Her Fight

One

My eyes flutter open as I listen to the sound of the heart monitor. My heart monitor, I realize. Yet again I'm in the hospital and that's when pain shot through my body. Not expecting the pain, I groaned out loud and my mom jumped to my side.

"Oh my baby girl, are you okay?" She asked me. "Tom, go get the doctor." With that I heard the shuffling of my dads feet head to the door and out he went.

My dad had bad knees meaning he couldn't walk well, so he shuffled pretty much everywhere not just in my hospital room. It hurt my heart to know that he wasn't getting knee surgery because their money went towards my treatments.

I took a deep breath, realizing I was on oxygen, before answering my mom. "I'm fine, it's just a headache." It was partly true. I did have a headache but my whole body ached.

Before my mom could shower me with questions about how I was feeling my dad walked in with my doctor. "Good to see you awake." Dr. Hanson smiled. "How are you feeling? I heard you seem to be in some pain."

Dr. Hanson is one of the best oncologists in the state of Washington. Washington State not DC, as everyone seems to assume it's in DC. I also find him to be one of the kindest souls I know. It's clear that he truly cares about each and everyone of his patients.

"Yeah, a headache." I say practically staring into his soul as to say I want my family to go. I do this to him quite a bit so he knows exactly what I want.

"I'm going to need everyone to leave the room. It's a bit crowded in here." He said raising his arms with a clipboard in one.

"Bye for now, sissy." My younger brother Dax says giving me a hug.

"Bye, love you," I say hugging him back.

Dax is five and has honestly been the sole reason I continue to fight hard. I don't want him to grow up without me, I'm afraid he'll slowly and unintentionally forget the little things about me that he loves. I don't want him to wonder what life would've been like with me in his. It hurts too bad.

"Hey, I'm going to take Dax to the vending machine. Want anything?" My older brother, Peter, asks.

Sometimes I just want to break down in tears because of the kindness Peter shows me. He's twenty five, has a child of his own, and a wife, yet he visits me every-time I end up in the hospital. Even if it means taking time off of work.

"You already know; M&Ms." I smile.

"Of course you do, sis." He smiles back, turning away.

"We'll be right outside your room," my mom says as she and dad give me a kiss on the forehead before walking out.

"Alright, so is there anything else you wanted to let me know regarding your pain?" Dr. Hanson asked.

"Well I currently have a headache and quite a bit of pain throughout my body." I say.

"Rate your pain from one to ten for me, please. One being the least amount of pain and ten being intense pain." He said. He's said this to me hundreds of times, by now the both of us are bored of the statement but as he's said before it's procedure.

I thought about it for a minute. It wasn't too sharp but it was a pretty dull ache compared to other times. "I'd say about a 4." I felt the number was fitting and also large enough to get some more pain medication coursing through my veins.

It's funny, a year ago I could hardly take a full ibuprofen tablet without thinking I'd OD. I had gone through so much anxiety after taking them, once I had even convinced myself I was faking period cramps. Now here I am, wanting more drugs that are heavier than ibuprofen.