Dying With Dignity

I Do Not Want To Die. But I Am Dying. And I Want To Die On My Own Terms

Two months later

l sighed at my reflection in my bathroom mirror. I could tell a little more each day that my body was deteriorating little by little. My spiral brown hair started coming out in knots when I would brush it, as the months progressed. My once flourishing vibrant green eyes, now had permanent purplish bruise looking rings around them that never went away no matter how hard I tried. Once I knew that I was sick and that my body was never going to heal again, I started noticing every thing that was changing about myself. My body needed more rest then it you used too. I used to be able to function on only a few hours of sleep and survive perfectly, now I have to get a minimum of nine to ten hours easily. I had a permanent headache that I woke up with, I've had it for so long now that I hardly even noticed the pain anymore. My arms and legs bruised more easily and they were more brittle, like my bone were literally breaking themselves down.

I was falling apart.

"Fay, Breakfast in five!" My mother shouted up at me from down stairs in the kitchen.

My parents tried to force me to eat every single meal a day, three times a day and then some snacks in between, like it was going to be my last meal ever. Before I got sick, I never ate breakfast and my mom never made me eat either. In fact, they never even cooked breakfast before, but now that I'm sick, they feel like they had to be apart of every little thing that I did, including eating meals.

"Okay, momma." I knew that I had only had so much time with my parents on this earth, I had to make the most of every minute that I spent with them, even if that meant enduring eating breakfast that I wasn't even hungry for.

I started down the staircase when the needlelike tapered pain hit the back of my skull, making my vision go blurry for a split second. I leaned against the wall, silently hoping for the pain to pass. My body had to cooperate with me today. It was the day that I was going to tell my parents everything that Dr. Johnson and I had discussed, what she was going to let me do. The pain didn't subside after standing there for a few minutes and I knew that this was going to be a bad day with a lot of pain which normally meant for me, pain medication. The only reason I didn't particularly like the medicine was because it made me feel droopy, and in a time like this where I only had so long before I was nothing, I wanted to be completely aware of everything that was happening. Most of the time though, I didn't get to decide. The unbearing pain of my tumor got to decide for me.

"Fay? You alright, sweetheart?" My mom must have heard me when I hit the wall, she was always listening just in case we had another incident like last week. I had completely fallen down the stairs, but that was only because I had simply tripped but my mother is determined to think that it had to do with my tumor and me losing my balance. She literally lived and breathed everything that had to do with my health.

"Yeah. I just got sidetracked with my thoughts for a second." I didn't want to tell her that I wasn't feeling very well today, she worried enough as it was.

"I made pancakes! You're favorite." She smiled at me with sympathy in her eyes. I hated that sympathy. I got sympathy from everybody who knows and I didn't want it from my parents on top of everyone else.

"Thanks, mom. You're the best." I kissed her cheek lightly and continued the walk down to the kitchen.

My father always sat at the end of the table in front of the window. He always said he didn't like the sun shining in his face as he ate his food, but I loved it. I loved the feeling of warmth on my skin, it reminded me that I was still alive.

"Good morning." I made my way to my father and kissed him on the cheek as well before circling around to my side of the table.

"Morning, dear." My fathers voice sounded rough this morning, like most mornings now when him and my mom had fights. They fought mostly every day now that I'm sick and I only wonder how much longer they'll actually stay together after I'm gone.

I shuttered at the thought of my parents splitting and knowing that my sickness was going to overall be the cause.

"How are you feeling this morning?" My mom asked me as she sat down.

"I feel great." I lied, picking up the syrup and pouring a heaping load onto my pancakes. "I actually wanted to talk to y'all about something." I was nervous at what I was about to tell my parents, knowing they were going to be upset and disappointed in my decision.

"Oh. This sounds important. Tom, put your paper down and listen to our daughter." My mother sounded bitter towards for my father for some reason that I didn't understand.

I wonder what they were fighting about this time. I thought to myself as I prepared for what I was about to tell them.

"Just have a open mind, okay?" I glanced between both of them, making sure they were fully paying attention.

They both nodded and my father gestured for me to continue.

"So as you know, I've been having my meetings without you guys with Dr. Johnson these last few times because I wanted to be alone. Well, I wanted to tell you know what we discussed and what I've decided to do." I stopped speaking for a second to collect my thoughts before continuing.

"My body is only going to get worse and I don't want you or anyone else to see me like that. I don't want to see myself like that." I clenched my eyes closed dreading their reaction.

"I want to go through with Physician Assisted Suicide." I took a deep breath waiting for them to speak but already knowing what they were going to say.

"Excuse me?"

"You want to what?!"

Both of them shouted at the same time, making me press my eyes shut even tighter.

"HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?" My mother screamed making me pop my eyes open at once. She was standing at this point. I could see a light blue vein in her head right where her temple was, you could only see it when she was angry.

"Just listen to me for a second." I didn't shout at either one of them. I knew they would be upset. I would have the same reaction if it was the other way around, but it's not. They weren't dying. I was.

"Why would you want to kill yourself?" My dad blubbered his face slightly red.

"Dad," I peeked over at him, tears gathering softly in my eyes. "I'm already dying. And there is absolutely nothing that you or I, mom or Dr. Johnson can do about it." I whispered to him, salty drops fell from my eyes and hit my lips.

"Dr. Johnson will just prescribe the right medication and whenever I'm ready, I'll take it and just fall soundly to sleep. No pain, no suffering, no watching myself die. Just sleep."

I tried convincing them that this was the right decision but they kept trying to argue with me and tell me that I couldn't make a decision like that on my own, I knew they weren't going to understand.

"I am almost nineteen years old. An adult. I can make any decision that I want. You can call me selfish or say that I'm too young but the truth is, it's selfish to ask me to stick around as I die. It's selfish to ask my family to watch me die. I refuse to go out like that. I love you guys with all my heart and I am asking this one time that you don't have to agree with me, but I need you to support me."

I already made my decision and there was nothing that they could do about it. I was going to die with dignity and that would be on my own terms.