ORIGINAL:The Boy With A Touch Of Cancer(BxB)

11. Back In The Hospital

I woke up the next morning, and I rolled over, groaning in the process as it felt like I'd been run over by a truck.
It didn't surprise me that my whole body was achy and stiff since I spent quite a few hours on the bathroom floor last night puking up what little amount of food I managed to choke down.

I heaved a yawn, stretched, then as I tried to sit up, I started coughing so hard it felt like I was gonna cough up my fucking lung. 'What the fuck is with all the coughing this week?' I wondered as my lungs stopped burning, but then started aching soon after.
A deep stabbing pain had filled my chest, and it was making it very painful to breathe; making it damn near impossible to take a deep breath.

I wish I could say I was just now starting to notice these symptoms, but I've been noticing them all week; noticing that they've gotten progressively worse over the past week, especially the past couple of days.

I slid off my bed and struggled to my feet. Every muscle in my body was stiff and it felt like they were being weighed down by lead; almost forcing me to stay in bed because of the pain.

I shuffled over to my dresser, and I grabbed a thermometer off the top of it, yanking off the plastic sleeve and popping it in my mouth, already knowing I was definitely running a fever just by how hot I was.

103.3, that's what the thermometer said, and for my leukemia filled bloodstream--rendering my body's ability to naturally fight infections--that's a really high temperature.

'Shit' I thought as I tossed the thermometer back on my dresser, now fully alert (apparently all my body needed was the fear of being sick to wake itself up), and terrified.

I ran out of my room and down the stairs, and as I entered the living room, I yelled, "Hey, Mom!"

"Yeah!" she answered

"I'm...uh...I..." I panted, stopping at the end of the stairs to catch my breath.

Mom looked me up and down, her eyes widening. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

I slid into a seat at the dining table, my chest feeling like it was about to burst into flames, and I was completely out of breath from standing for no more than a few minutes.

Mom came over to the table, worry filling her already widened eyes as she sat down across from me. "What's going on, Ethan?"

I took a deep breath and said all in a frantic rush, "I'm running a fever. I can't stop coughing. I can't fucking breathe. I'm more tired than usual, and even the thought of eating makes me wanna puke..."

Mom stopped my rambling by flying out of her chair and pelting me with questions. "How high is your fever? How long have you had it? When did your symptoms start..." she trailed off as she paced back and forth in front of me, obviously trying to work off her nervous energy. She stopped pacing and turned her terrified gaze to mine. "Do we need to go to the doctor? Is it that bad? I just don't want it to be like last time..."

She trailed off again and tears filled her eyes as she stared at me. Her lip started trembling slightly, and I really didn't want her to cry, so I jumped out of my chair (gritting my teeth through the pain) and tightly wrapped my arms around her.
"Shh. I'm okay, Mom, really. I'm sure it's just a little cold or something," I said gently into her hair, attempting to keep her from freaking out as much as I was.

She took a deep, shaky breath and pulled away from my chest. She looked up into my eyes, and said with a humorless laugh, "What the hell am I doing? I should be comforting you right now."

I swiped the few tears that had leaked out of her eyes away, and I "confidently" responded, "I'm okay, Mom. You need more comfort than I do right now. I mean, do you see me crying?"