After reading The Fault in Our Stars for the fifth time, I was inspired to write a story dealing with cancer.
Keep in mind I'm not a doctor, so there might be some medical inaccuracies. I did some research before starting this story, but like I said, I'm not a doctor.
Ignore the awful title and summary.
So yep, enjoy~
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I've always heard stories of teens getting cancer at my age, I suppose I just never figured it would happen to me. My nightmare started when I was fourteen. A cough that never seemed to go away. Mum began getting more and more worried when I would occasionally collapse in a fit of coughing, so she brought me to the doctor. Both of us figured it was just pneumonia or something, but the doctor did a blood test, a few other tests whose names I couldn't tell you, and then I took some x-rays. It was a few days later when he delivered the news to my mother and I.
I had lung cancer.
I remember my mother's face when she got that phone call. The way she broke out in tears, and how she tried her hardest to be strong for me as she told me about the diagnosis.
My first thought was 'I'm going to die. I'm going to die and leave my mother all alone.' And, I was terrified out of my mind. I wondered if my mom could even afford the chemo and expenses that came with cancer.
At age 14, my childhood was taken from me.
I think that deep down, I was aware that I most likely wouldn't survive the cancer. But I fought and I fought hard, for my mother. The cancer went into remission, and the constant hospital visits and exhaustion stopped, and I almost thought my life would be normal.
Almost.
At fifteen, the cancer came back. A relapse. We went back to the hospital and my cancer team greeted me.
More tests were run and this time, the prognosis was a bit different -
the cancer was, in fact, terminal.
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Going to a doctor and being told you have leukemia sucks.
Especially for someone like me - athletic.
So it was a huge shot at my pride when I found out, but I just was lucky it wasn't terminal! The chemo seemed like it would be tough, but the needles...that was brutal. But getting shots and IVs and cancer are kinda a package deal.
I'm only 16 and I was in the second stage, but it was still severe, I was hospitalized. Fucking fantastic.
Not.
"Alright Alfred. We're going to get you into your room so you can get comfortable. You've got chemo in four hours. Just a heads up - your roommate is a slight grumpy." I nodded as they made me sit in a wheelchair. I'll admit, it was kinda fun letting them wheel me to my room. But the whole being in a hospital part is a buzzkill. The nurse wheeled me into the room.
It was then I noticed the bright blond hair of the boy in the bed. He looked frail and was hooked up to all sorts of machines, and clutched a book in his small hands. But his eyes! They were fiery and full of life and emotion. A brilliant green colour that I didn't think was possible in a human being. Those eyes pierced me, almost as if they could read me inside and out. The boy said nothing as they wheeled me to the neighbouring bed. "Alright so get yourself comfortable and I'll be in to get you hooked up to the machines and get your IV." The nurse smiled as I got into bed and set my duffel bag on the ground beside the bed, then she walked out.
After ten minutes of silence, I turned toward the boy. "Soooo, are you a cancer patient too?" The boy shot me a glare, and he carefully studied my face. "Yes. I am." I heard the English accent in his voice immediately.
"Cool. The name's Alfred! Nice to meet ya."
"Arthur Kirkland. Likewise." His voice was sharp and concise, and his short replies sorta discouraged me to continue talking, but I pushed on. Arthur had piqued my interest.
"What kinda cancer you got?" I pressed
"Lung cancer." The Brit stated simply.
"I have leukemia!"
Arthur clucked his tongue "Leukemia has fantastic survival rates."
I nodded, my mind off on whether lung cancer had a good survival rate. Deciding that I didn't want to know the answer and the conversation was clearly over, I looked for something to busy myself with. My phone.
I bent over and fumbled with my duffel bag, trying to pull out my phone. Arthur turned and raised a brow at me, watching me struggle. After a few minutes, I laid back down and began texting some friends.
Arthur stood and walked to his bag, and I noticed how thin he was. He couldn't be a day over 14 years old. The blonde got his phone and got back into his bed "how old are you?" I asked.
"16."
"Woah, really? I am too. You look so small and thin."
"Yes, well, cancer does that to you." He replied coldly.
A minute later, the nurse came back and sat at my bedside. "Alright Al. I'm gonna have to stick a needle in your arm for just a bit, okay?" I gulped and nodded. Needles are my weakness. The nurse tied an elastic band just above my elbow "This is to make the vein pop out more." I bit my lip as she inserted the needle with a little tube on it. "And done." She took the needle out and the thin tube remained. She then attached the end of the tube to another tube that was connected to a bag of liquid hanging up on what looked like a coat hanger.
"Alright, rest up and you can go in for chemo in three hours."
"Thanks!" I smiled and she smiled back, before walking out. I looked over, and saw Arthur had gone back to his book.
I woke up an hour later, and looked to my right. Nurses had brought Arthur something to eat, and I watched him pick through it and way a small piece of chicken and a carrot. No wonder he was so small.
"I've had enough." He proclaimed in that accent of his. His nurse, a pretty brown haired lady, sighed "you really oughta eat more." And she took the tray from him. "Okay, pain med time." She changed the liquid in his IV so the medicine would go straight to his blood stream. Arthur nodded and I saw him relax as the pain medication flowed through him. I wonder how much pain he's in daily.
I think I miss the solitude of having my own room, with no one next to me. However, I can't deny that Alfred has quenched me of my boredom. Chances are, he'll either become cancer free soon and leave, or I'll die before he leaves.
I debated about telling him that I was terminal, but why bother? I already got enough pity for having cancer. Telling people I was guaranteed to die within a year would just make it worse.
So I held my tongue.
That boy, Alfred, apparently was afraid of needles. Heh, he'll get over that sooner or later with all of the needles that come with getting cancer.
After I ate and received more pain medication, I felt a bit more relaxed, and lazily snuck a peek at my new roommate. He had sandy brown hair, blue eyes, and glasses I hadn't noticed until now. His build suggested he was somewhat athletic and I bet having cancer and not being able to play sports devastated him. I turned back to my book when a bout of coughing over took me. I coughed only a few times, but each time stung my lungs. I winced after each cough. I felt Alfred's eyes on me, watching me, wondering if I was alright. I turned toward him, "I'm perfectly fine, Alfred. You can stop watching me." It came out sharper than intended and I exhaled a deep breath. A look of hurt crossed his face for a millisecond, before the American turned back to his phone.
I pressed the button next to my bed, for nurse assistance. My nurse, Karen, came in. "May I walk around this floor a bit? I need to stretch my legs." Karen thought for a bit, before nodding and walking out of the door.
"Dude! You're allowed to do that? I didn't know!" Alfred looked excited. A small smile crept on my face and I nodded, and stood up out of my bed. I hobbled slowly toward the doorway and eventually was out of the room and down the hall. It felt weird to be walking for so long, and my legs felt weak. This was so debilitating, and all this cancer treatment was essentially pointless. I was going to die anyway, this was an effort to prolong my life. And unnecessary expenses for my mother.
I shook those thoughts out of my head as I continued down the long hallway. Everything in hospitals were so sterile and pristine, it almost aeed fake. This was the cancer ward wing of the hospital, and this whole place emitted sadness. I wondered if I'd ever be moved to a hospice. I hoped not, I didn't think my mother could stand that. I coughed a few times and felt a dull ache in my chest. Time to turn around apparently. I used the wall for support as I turned myself around and began the descent back.
I when I got back into the room, Alfred was gone, probably at chemo. Had that much time passed already?
It was hard keeping track of the days and time when you were confined to the hospital walls. I wanted to go outside, but I knew my immune system couldn't handle it.
Alfred entered the room twenty minutes later. "Was that your first treatment? How was it" I asked, surprised at myself for initiating the conversation.
"Not that bad" Alfred shrugged, "It just felt like another liquid running through my body, I guess."
I nodded, remembering my first chemo. "I remember two years ago when I got my first chemo treatment. I was terrified out of my mind."
"You've had cancer for that long?!" Alfred's eyes widened and I nodded.
"It went into remission and then I relapsed and then-" I stopped myself, unwilling to reveal more. To reveal it was terminal. For some reason, I didn't want Alfred to know. I wanted to be treated normally by him, and so far I had. I looked over to the clock on the wall, and saw it was already five o'clock. I would have chemotherapy in roughly a half hour.
I had been getting chemo for years, and surprisingly, none of my hair fell out. Abnormal? Yes. But, it was a pain to comb through it and eventually I had given up. I was fighting a losing battle with my hair.
My mum came in the room five minutes later, and her eyes landed on Alfred. "I see you've finally gotten a roommate, Arthur." I nodded, thinking back to the days before I had cancer.
Alfred smiled at her "my name is Alfred! I just came in today, and I have leukemia."
My mother smiled back "Hello, I'm Arthur's mother. I'm sure my son appreciates your company. I sensed he was getting lonely in here all by himself."
I rolled my eyes, blushing slightly. I don't know why, though. "So, mum, you here to go with me to chemo?" She nodded.
"You really don't need to. I know it probably hurts you to have to-"
"I don't mind." My mom said, cutting me off. Alfred looked at us before asking a question that caught both my mother and I off guard. "Do you think I'd be allowed to still eat McDonald's?" I couldn't help smirking and I was about to reply when Karen walked in "It's that time, kiddo." I stood up with the help of my mom and we began walking out.
"Good luck Artie!" Alfred called after me.
He might've been annoying, but my mother was right. He sure did make for good company.
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Annnnnnd that's the end of the first chapter yay!
I have a good amount of this story planned out already. And about my other story, The Perfects. I don't think I'll be finishing it. I'll try though.
Man, describing the part where the nurse gave Alfred his IV always brings back memories of the blood tests I've had done. They take so much blood from me. ;-;
Anyway, I hoped you liked this.