I've always thought of hospitals like death camps. Anyone would if they had to sit there, listening to doctors use long medical terms that basically means my body is disintegrating and smell sick and dying people, not to mention the blood. You start to realize that those sickly white walls are anything but sanitary. You start to notice the stains of deep red lining them. You can practically hear the souls soaked in the foundation; hear them speaking to me, calling to me. But, in reality, the only thing calling to me is the beeping of the heart monitors that surround me. Out of everything that has plagued my life in this hospital, the worst is that monitor. The constant beeping reminds me that I'm still living, that I have not given in yet despite my pleading. Even when I am not chained to one, they're everywhere. Hooked up to people, telling them they're still here with every hideous tone. No other death postponing machine is quite like a heart monitor. All a heart monitor does is dig you a grave and suspends you above the crossing line of living and dying. The only thing more annoying than heart monitors is overly optimistic people. Especially those who are in a hospital. While everyone around them is dying and giving in they choose to remain oblivious to the world around them and stay happy. They have no reason for this. It is a death camp; if you make it out alive, you won't make it out the same. So where is the reasoning for optimism? Faith? Religion? Hope? By now, those options fade out of existence. Just another thought lost in the void. But these people have no right to be so happy. Life has dealt them the worst hand and how do they react? Like he can make it out by just putting on a happy face and taking it head on. Like he can spend the rest of his life rotting away in this hospital? No one should be this enthusiastic to live this kind of life.
Except Jacob... He was so excited he got to wake up and face the day, not knowing whether or not he was going to die. He never cared about that. Figured that life had a plan for him and he was determined to live it out with his best capability. He was annoying about it. Between him and that damn heart moniter my life was a giant flashing notice that read "YOU ARE ALIVE". And he was so erratically happy. No matter what life threw at him; growing tumors, risky surgeries, whatever else, he was always smiling. But I remember the first time I saw him cry though. I was sitting with him on the bathroom floor as he puked into a bucket. He had accidently ripped open the stitches on his chest, the bathroom was painted in blood. It was horrifying to watch it all go down. The screams of agony, the long heavy cries. But when he stopped, he immediately sat up and looked at me, blood dripping down his chin. He wiped it away with a finger and laughed.
"Looks like I'm ready for Halloween this year" He was just in pain a few minutes before it should be impossible for one man to complete such a shift in emotion. But that was Jacob; never a moment did he give into the grip of cancer. And oh was it irritating. To hear the never ending jabber about glass half full life and how every individual on this planet is worth something. In Jacob's world, everything was beautiful and exhilarating, me above all. To him; there was always a silver lining. But having cancer didn't come with that. There was nothing happy and bright about your body dying. He was lying to himself. And he would shout his encouragements to the world, reminding me that I was worth something and that every day on this planet was another day to kick cancer in the face. It was almost as nonstop as a heart monitor, an everlasting throb.
But then it on a Monday. Of course it was a Monday. I've never enjoyed the start the week. It meant I survived yet another week and there was another I had to struggle through. Jacob was in the hospital over the weekend after having surgery to remove the tumor that was causing more and more problems each growing day, eating away at his stomach. It became such a problem they needed to operate. And, of course, he had to have that plastic oximeter on his finger. It screamed at me, each pulse giving me a migraine. It was all so typical. I pulled up a chair next to the bed and grabbed his hand. I asked him how he was feeling, kind of anticipating his answer to be horribly gleeful. "Like a million bucks," he beamed at me. I knew he wasn't. He looked terrible; his body looking so weak and fragile, his deep brown eyes were sunken and dead, and all the tubes and IVs sticking out of him made him look like a robot. But no matter what, Jacob couldn't be done. He wouldn't allow cancer to take him.
"Are you sure?" I asked him, " I can go get something for you,"
"I'm on cloud nine, my love," he gripped my hand tighter and coughed, not breaking his smile.
I gave in and laid my head on the bed, letting Jacob rub my back and talk about who knows what with that damn monitor ticking away in the background. My migraine was growing worse with every pulse and every sunshine filled word that flowed out of Jacob's mouth.
And then, he stopped. Jacob never stopped talking, it was a constant downpour of words dripping with honey. He gripped my sweatshirt and looked down at me, "I love you." I was shocked. He had never said it to me so seriously before. Sure he had joked around with me and said it but I didn't think anything of it. So, naturally I panicked, not knowing what to say. I looked up at him, the monitor grew louder and louder and I couldn't concentrate. The noise was becoming unbearable. "Jacob," I tried saying something to him, anything, but the monitor was too loud to try to tell him what I was feeling. I used all my focus, "Jacob, I love you," but I couldn't hear myself say it. I tried again and again to tell him. "Jacob I love you! I'm sorry I don't hate you!" I tried shaking his arm to get him to say something, anything. But I couldn't even hear myself over that long, agonizing flatline. He was gone. Jacob died trying to confess his love for me and all I did was just sit there. He didn't even get to hear me finish my sentence and say I love him too. Despite my pleading, I don't hate him, I could never hate him. He was the only thing that kept me from giving in completely. He thought I was something special, that I was more than just a bitter girl with cancer. And that heart monitor was a reminder of it. Now they're both silent.
It's been about a month since Jacob died, and I thought I would be getting better. But it's only gotten worse. Heart monitors sound more bitter than they ever have. Flatlines are worse. The cancer ward is full of the screaming rings, each time I'm pulled back into that memory of Jacob dying. And I still can't do anything about it. Just stand there; letting the world spin around me. On nights where it gets particularly bad, I feel the urges of calling Jacob or going to his house, anything, but I can't. Life decided that the ray of sunshine that is Jacob needed to leave but left my gloomy bitter ass here. I know I sound like an obsessive teenage girl, but put yourself in my shoes for a moment. Try having everything that you built for yourself, ripped away from you in a single moment. Since the moment I got diagnosed, I have been ready to die. I spent so much time trying to cling onto something, anything, to stay alive. Jacob was that thing. I wanted to become attached to him and I wanted to use him as my light, but there was a part of me that knew he would die. So I built a wall up to try and to tell myself that I hated him, that he was annoying and stupid and I just kept him around because I felt bad. But I knew that wasn't it. I did love him. And when I finally realized that, he was brutally snatched from me. This cancer has taken everything from me. My body, my love, my own sanity. And I've been ready for it to take whatever is left for a long time. Since this disease took Jacob from me, I have been planning on just killing myself. Everything is worthless by now, my life is drawn out agony and I'm so tired. I can't keep waiting for my body to consume itself already, so here I am. I've never written a suicide note before, so I'm not really sure how to end this. What do you say? Apologize for something you're not actually sorry for? I guess I'll just say goodbye. And also, I'm not sorry.
