Chapter 1: Well This Sucks.

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        Stage 3. Stage 3. Stage 3. Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. 30% chance of survival for the next year. Oh my God. The words my doctor is saying are ringing in my ears. He talks about how typically, osteosarcoma is highly treatable, but its worked its way in my system too far for much treatment. He seriously talking to my parents about what hospital I should live at. For real? I've had extreme joint and muscle pain recently, mostly in my legs and knees. I passed out today in school, during gym. That jack-ass gym teacher tried making me run a mile, and my legs gave out and I passed out. I'm just waking up now in the hospital. My mom is sobbing, my dad is not holding up much better. My brother, Jake is staring off into space. I force myself to sit up, but my head is throbbing. My mom rushes over to me.

        "Oh Henri. Oh thank God. Hi honey. Hi." She says kissing my face.

        "Mom, where's Ruby? Have you called her?" I ask about my sister. She goes to college at Marquette University, about 2 hours away from where I live. My mom gives me a sad smile.

        "Honey, I haven't called her yet. But the soonest I'm sure she'll be able to get here is in a couple days." She says.

        "Your point? I'll still be here in a couple days." I say slowly, focusing hard on every word just to get them out of my mouth.

        "Well, let me brief you on everything that's going on. You were rushed to the hospital after passing out. The found cancer in your legs. Osteosarcoma. Pretty curable, but you are stage 3 and we just found it, so it's spread a little bit. Among the possible treatments is chemotherapy and... double amputation. Even after that you'll be in and out of the hospital so much, we have found another, cheaper solution. There's a place just a little ways out of Chicago, called Reginald Jones Teenage Cancer Institute. It's a place just for teenagers effected by cancer, mostly terminal. It's like a hospital, but more personal. Friends to be made, outings, school, ect. It's cheaper than putting you in and out of the hospital. I think that'd be a good place for you Henri." She says. I almost choke on air. I hear my heart beat racing through the heart monitor.

        "I... will you guys move to Chicago with me?" I barely manage out. She shakes her head no.

        "But it's a great facility. You'll be in good hands and we'll visit very often. And skype. We'll never be more than an hour's flight away. I think this place will be best for you Henri." She says. I know it hurts her. I nod.

        "I'm really tired Mom. When do I leave?" I ask.

        "Well, You need a couple days to rest. I think we'll start sending things over tomorrow, you'll move in there in about 3 or 4 days. Soon. You're in pretty critical condition. The sooner the better." She says.

        "Okay. I'm just gonna nap for a while." I say and she nods and kisses my forhead.

*************************************************Three Days Later**************************************************

        "Honey, do you think you can walk through security?" my mom asks. I'm in a wheelchair, and extreme pain. And a bit loopy from my drugs.

        "I don't really want to." I say. She nods and wheels me through airport security and then to Starbucks. I'm not sure if I should have caffiene in my system, but hell, who knows who long I have left> Carmal mochiattos to high heaven, please. I sip it slowly and then (despite having just drank coffee) fall asleep. I wake up a little when my dad is lifting me off my wheelchair and into the airplane seat, but sleep all the way through the flight. I have some more drugs pumped into my system by a young nurse, probably in her mid-30's right at the airport when I get off the plane. I get in a taxi and am driven to Reginald Jones. Before I can even register what's happening, I'm being prepped for surgery and in an operating room. I daze in and out but never fully wake up. After what seems like minutes but was probably hours, I wake up in a blank, sterile room. No one is there. I feel a weird numbness in my lower legs, and a burning feeling in my upper thighs. I look down. About mid-way down my thighs is where it ends. Stumps. Wrapped in bandages. I click for the nurse to come, but black out before she can make it in the room.

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