I awake to a sharp stabbing pain in my skull; it feels like pins are being pushed into various parts of my brain. My lungs are deflated balloons and every atom of oxygen has decided that it hates my body and so avoids it with all their might. I try to scream but a measly whimper escapes my lips. I begin to panic as my limbs become heavy, heavy without oxygen. It feels like fireworks are exploding inside my skull, flying debris into my brain like confetti. I can't escape the pain and it encompasses me entirely. I pray for sleep, unconsciousness, even death to come and sweep me into their peaceful arms. Anything would be better than this pain. My lungs are trying so hard to breathe, but my heart is slowing down. My eyelids are closing but not before I catch a glimpse of him, Augustus standing at the end of my bed; a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth, but no sign of a crooked smile.
I wake up in the ICU, just like last time. Alone and confused by how I ended up here. It is never quiet; beeps and wails echo throughout the place, trying to drown out one another. I lay staring at the ceiling, listening to the alternating sounds. The machines symbolised life which contrasted with the cries symbolising death. I wonder how my parents will react when I finally die. Will they openly cry, exposing their pain, or will they be subtle, letting tears run down their cheeks. I hit the red call button which it all becomes too much to think about.
The nurse arrives quickly with a tight smile, my parents following behind her. They run to my bedside crying but looking relieved to see me. I am enveloped in their arms, feeling their love radiate outward. This is not like last time though. There are no smiles or reassuring words of health. They only have time to say my name before Dr Maria walks in with her team of doctors.
"Hazel I am glad to see you are awake, but I'm afraid I have some bad news for you." She looks me in the eye and I know this is it. My stomach drops to my toes and I find it difficult to swallow.
"As we have discussed before, your drug Phalanxifor controls cancer growth but cannot stop it. Cancer will find a way to evolve in spite of the drug and unfortunately in your case, the cancer has spread to your brain. I wish there was a way to treat you but the doctors and I have concluded that any treatment would be futile. We will give you pain relief and a trial drug in attempt to length your life but you have mere months to live my dear and for that I am truly sorry."
I can see my dad crying with his arms wrapped around my mom. I don't know what to think. My thoughts are scrambled, crawling around the cancer devouring my brain cells. I wonder how Augustus felt when he found out about his inevitable death. Did his parents break down like mines are in the process of? I hate to think of his suffering now; I hate the image of a weak cancer-riddled Gus hunched over in his wheelchair. But he still called me Hazel Grace and joked in the face of death. He had the strength I do not, now that I know death is oncoming.
I am allowed to leave the hospital after a week, even though I have to continue my medication at home. It doesn't feel like I am dying. I still watch copious amounts of bad television shows with my parents beside me. Breathing has become harder though, like my lungs are being pressed down by a great weight. I find it difficult to form coherent thoughts at times and I begin to panic, thinking of the cancer feasting on my dwindling brain cells. Is this what Caroline Mathers experienced; the sensation that something was gnawing away at her brain, her thoughts, her memories. I don't know what this cancer was capable of but it frightens me; the same kind of fear that Augustus felt towards oblivion. I like being a person. I want to keep at it. I don't want to become a shell, full of cancer and devoid of myself.