Sickness, A Short Story

Sickness

Cancer invades your body, infecting cells and organs alike. The tumor begins to grow as it latches itself onto your lung. You start to feel different, it's harder to breathe and you begin to have violent coughing fits, but you just write it off as allergies. Soon, the pain becomes unbearable. Your lungs can barely keep in air in them; making your breathing shallow and voice raspy. Every part of you hurts from the lack of proper oxygen supply, and you feel as if death is among you, looming in the corner, waiting for you to kick the bucket.

Finally you have no choice but to investigate the cause of your suffering. The doctor runs a few tests, then notifies you of your illness. You have stage four lung cancer. At first your mind is blank, but then millions of thoughts come crashing in all at once. Why you? You exercise daily, you eat right, no one in your family has ever developed cancer of any kind, you don't smoke and neither do your friends, so why you? Of all the people in the world, why are you plagued with this disease? The voices of the doctors sounds like low hums as you go completely numb, feeling shocked and scared by the news. Finally the words being thrown at you break through the haze, just in time for you to hear the treatment chosen. The tumor that has made itself at home in your right lung has grown too large to be removed, so they'll be using chemotherapy to see if it shrinks down enough to be taken out. Robotically you nob your head, and the start of endless phone calls begin. You inform your friends, family, partner, anyone close enough to you to care about the situation. Words of encouragement are thrown at you, but they just go in one ear and out the other. You become frustrated by their optimism because only you know how bad your cancer really is and you hear the doubt they think they're hiding behind fake smiles.

Your lover walks you into the hospital, holding your shaking hand, trying desperately to calm the nerves both of you are failing to hide. Today is your first round of chemo, and the chemicals they use hit you like a truck. Your brain feels like mush, and your body hurts worse than it did before, but you try to push through even though you have no faith in your treatment. You were too far gone to be saved, but you let others keep their faith. Everyone believes that you'll be cured, that your cancer will disappear and everything will turn out alright for you. While their hopefulness is appreciated, you know the truth and so do the doctors; you weren't going to survive. You understand your time on Earth is coming to an end, but you still get week after week of chemotherapy in spite of what you know to be true.

Months pass and nothing gets better; your mind and soul feels broken, your body is weak, and the cancer in your lung has only grown larger in resistance. It feels as if you are no longer yourself, but merely a shell. Tan skin is now pale, bright eyes now look as if they're covered with film, and a once loud and joyful voice has become whisper quiet and harsh. You cant put up with the pain anymore, so you finally let go. You pass on the pain to your grieving loved ones, replacing it with complete and utter bliss as you fly into the heavenly light waiting for you.