On Me (Matt Sturniolo)

16.

"I'm getting worried about her ... she's never reacted to it like this before-"

"I'm sure she's okay, her body is fighting it off-"

"She looks fine. She's...sleeping"

"Should I call the doctor?"

Even though I was out of it in bed, I could hear Josh and Rachel talking about me.

If I had the energy, I'd of told them to go away and leave me alone, but I didn't...so I lay here. My body was on fire and I had a horrible metal taste in my mouth.

This was the worst I've been, but I was hydrated so I knew that was good because if I was sick and dehydrated, I would be worried.

I'd been in bed all day before I started to feel remotely human again, but I was still throwing up.

My muscles and joints locked in place, so it hurt when I moved. Rachel figured it was a good idea to have a 'throw up' bowl beside my bed.

It worked...but I struggled with the smell when I was on my own. Josh had to work and so did Rachel, and I didn't expect them to be here all the time.

The after effect of my last chemo session was kicking my ass and I spent most of the last two days hunched over the toilet, throwing up.

Every time I was sick, I felt the burn in my throat as every muscle gagged and stretched because of the disease inside me.

Thankfully, as I threw up today, nobody was in the apartment, so I knew I was going to be okay.

I was exhausted after being pumped full of chemo and then throwing up, so all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and never see the light of day again.

Until tomorrow, that is, but I had stuff to do, and to be honest, after spending a lot of time in bed recently, that was the last place I wanted to go.

So I forced myself to keep going.

I did the laundry, cleaned the apartment, I tried to make dinner but the smell made me throw up, so I decided not to eat it.

As bad as chemo was, the only good thing was either eliminating or reducing the cancer in my body due to improvements in the amount of poison you can be given without your body shutting down...but as I stood in the bathroom, that wasn't my first thought.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I looked fucking awful.

My complexion was grey, I could see my collarbones, my lips were bloody, chapped and dry and there was dark circles under my eyes.

My cheeks were hollow and my skin was sore.

In that moment, it hit me that I was really ill, that I was potentially dying and even though cancer was taking over my body, so was the chemo.

What was the point of going through this if it wasn't working?

I knew I had a check up coming, then eight weeks of radiation, but really, what was the point if I was going to look and feel this way anyway?

I wasn't even remotely pretty anymore and whatever self esteem I had left went out the window.

I lost so much weight, it was heartbreaking.

I stared at myself, thinking about the times I wished I was one of those girls who could eat what they wanted and never put on weight.

I hated my hips, I hated my thighs and I hated my stomach, but I'd kill to have them back now.

There was no wonder Josh never touched me anymore or tried to make me feel better about myself. Who would want this?

Who would want me?