A Boy Named Harry

Chapter 3

It had been a week since I first met Harry. In that time he had gone home, and I had stayed at the hospital. I was scheduled to try chemo again, but under the circumstances it was being pushed back. I guess what I had thought was some simple ended up being really complicated. It was hard to understand, beings this has happened loads of times before, but each time I lose more blood. There was a moment where I was no longer stable, but I was able to get a transfusion. My mother said she never worried, she knew I would pull through, but I knew she was lying. As the week continued and I slowly became better, I texted with Harry. I was able to learn his favorite color, his favorite book, even that he quite enjoys singing. And in the time I was dying here a few days ago I thought about how I would miss learning about him and what he was like.

Harry has a job, at a bakery. Mum went down to it this morning to get some muffins. She claimed she had no clue he worked there, but I knew different. I imagine he asked how I was doing beings I was still in the hospital. Mum would say I was good with a tired look on her face and cry the whole way back to the hospital. It was routine when anyone asked her how I was. We all knew my time was coming. I gave myself another year, but Doc claims I will be up and at it in no time forgetting I ever had cancer. I don't think cancer is something you can forget, but I praise Doc and trying to keep my spirits up.

But I still haven't told Harry about my condition. For a friend I just made, how do you break something like that to them? There are a number of ways, none sounding right. Cancer isn't anything small and could very well take my life, which I know it's going to. My fight is coming to my last resort, something I never wanted, surgery. My worst fear is the surgery being a success, and failing afterwards, or dying on the table. I'm not scared of dying, I've fully accepted it, but I'm scared for my mum. She has no one left since my dad walked out. I have my sisters, but she hardly sees them since they live with my grandparents while I'm here all the time. I feel bad for the toll I've taken on the family. Sometimes the thought of ending their suffering makes me want to end my life myself, but I know how much more damage that would cause if I don't just let the disease take me instead.

Disease, that word is still so foreign to me. I was diagnosed when I was 11, but it still feels so strange. The thought of having cancer has become normal, and that feels so strange. It doesn't seem right that people have to go through this. Something attacking your body and trying to kill you from the inside out. It doesn't seem logical. They teach us in school that you will live to be 100 years old and die with no complication because they are afraid to tell you the truth. That sometimes in life people get sick, sometimes in life those people don't make it, and sometimes in life those people are yourselves.

I remember Liam, my best friend. We met in the ER, just like I did with Harry. We were both just kids, 11 years old, not even old enough to have crushes on girls or able to fully comprehend what was happening to us. We instantly became friends, the best. He initially wasn't even in the cancer wing, but when he was moved there I became excited at the thought of someone I knew being there with me. I was also saddened to see the cancer that had become of his kidney, because he could die in the state he was already in. He was only born with one kidney, and somehow survived until then. But the boy was a survivor. When he was fifteen even pronounced cancer free. There was always so much hope in his eyes and for everyone at the hospital, especially us patients, it was really a blessing. But the cancer came back and eventually took him, just like it will me. I hadn't talked about him much since he died, not something I really want to reminisce on. I miss him being around and the laughs we shared and how we understood what each other was going through, but that's gone now. He's gone now.

That's another fear of mine. When you die you're supposed to leave behind some legacy, but I have nothing. I've had cancer about half the time I've been alive and it now defines me. I lost my personality when I lost the will to fight, but I keep going. Liam had a personality, something that was so infectious you couldn't help but smile along with him, but I don't have that. I was never anything special and I never tried to be. But I don't want Harry to see me that way. I don't want him to see that I've lost all hope and that I've practically given up. I want him to see me as strong and passionate, at least someone might believe that.

Getting to know Harry has been a pleasure. He said he'd like to visit me when I get out of the hospital, but I really don't want him to. Seeing as it's obvious at how sick I am by looking at me, he would be able to tell. Mum thinks it's a good idea for him to stop by, no doubt it was her idea in the first place. Knowing Mum, he's already made plans to come over as soon and I'm out. Doc feels I'll be able to leave soon and that my vitals look a lot better than they did a few days ago, almost like it's a miracle. I still have to be here for a few more days, but I'm glad to know I can go home, get out of here.

My phone goes off and I know exactly who it is, because no one else would call me. "Hey, kid. How you feeling today?"

"Better. Still like I almost bled to death, but better," it was the truth. It's not like I couldn't feel what was happening to my body. It was hard to ignore it.

"That's good. You're mom stopped by the bakery this morning. She said you might get to go home soon."

"Yeah, we're looking at maybe discharging me Monday. But the Doc says a live in nurse might be best when I do leave."

"A live in nurse? What for? Thought it was a nosebleed.." I forgot he doesn't know the full story, yet. The full extent of my condition.

"Well, I'm pretty weak right now. I lost a lot of blood. He wants me to take it easy, way easy. I pretty much can't do anything myself right now. Not even walk. I could possibly need another transfusion or something. But I'll be back to normal soon," I lied. My normal gets worse each day.

"Oh. I'm sorry, kid. I was gonna come over when you got out, but it seems pretty bad."

"It's really not a big deal. Like you said, just a really bad nosebleed. I lost some blood, got a little weak, it happens. Come over," I really didn't want him to see me like this. But some company besides my mother sounds wonderful. I enjoy Harry, more than I should. He makes me feel a bit better. Talking with him gets my mind off of everything.

"Okay, I will. You said Monday, right?"

"Yes, I did."

"Then I'll come over Monday," I could almost hear his smile on the other line. I smiled, too. It's been a long time since I've hung out with someone. Thinking about it, the live in nurse thing wasn't a bad idea to tell him beings my room is practically a hospital room anyhow. I already had a live in nurse a while ago, especially when I was younger. I usually get one when I go through chemo, as that is when I'm at my weakest.

"Alright, see you Monday."

It kind of made me nervous, the thought of Harry coming over. I get very few social interactions with people outside of the hospital. This is something new to me, almost foreign. Forgetting what is was like to "hang out" I wondered what would happen. What we would do, the things we would say. Would he continue to ask questions about my condition? Would we continue to tell each other our favorite things? It had been years since I made a new friend, as Liam was there for me for seven years that I didn't need to make any new ones. But as I lay back on my hospital bed, resting my head against my pillow as I did any other day I was here, the thoughts drifted away and slumber began to set in. Being sick, I sleep often, causing me to miss much of the life around me, watching my life continue and live itself rather than me living it. And I couldn't help but dream of Harry, my new friend.