A reason for living

Leukemia and me

May 6th, Thursday

„The test results said that it seems your body doesn't let you produce enough white blood cells, which explains your sudden bruises and infections. I'm very sorry to tell you- but you suffer from promyelocytic leukemia, or easier said- a blood and bone marrow cancer. I'm really sorry."

I turned 18 two weeks ago. This is my late birthday gift. I'm sitting inside the ER, after my neighbors found me lying on the floor in front of my apartment, unconcious. I felt like I had a cold two days before that happened, but I didn't know a simple cold would end up with cancer.

Cancer... it's such a known disease, but I never thought about how people actually feel having it. Making fun of it was something completely normal when I was a stupid teen, like always saying „god this essay gives me cancer." „my heart aches, I bet I have cancer." „can I die of cancer before this exam?" „stop crying, or do you have cancer!?" These jokes were funny back then, but no one ever understood what it's like to actually have it. Even I don't know yet, but it seems very serious.

The doctors keep talking about things like APRA, remissions, relapses, inductions, consolidations, maintenance, chemotherapy... I don't understand any of that. I just sit on the sickbed, only wearing my pants, legs spread, my torso crooked, hands intertwined between my thighs and my face deadpan. I don't cry, I'm not scared, I don't show any kind of emotion, while the doctors keep discussing what to do first with me. The older doctor, Doctor Hitoshi, turns his head towards me, clearing his throat to shut up his colleague from talking.

„Bakugou. My colleagues and I will need a little more time to discuss how to begin with your treatment." He admits correcting his thick glasses.

„Sure." I answer monotone, when I move my head over to the shelves with different types of needles and liquids on top. It's way more interesting than the medical stuff the doctors talk about. They look at each other, confused and surprised I don't seem to take this serious. I do. I just don't want to show them.

„Also, for starters, we want to ask if you have anyone from your family who we could talk to, in order to know if anyone could be a good match for you." The other says, Doctor Aizawa. I move my head back to the tall, black haired man with the white coat and blink a couple times.
„Match?" I ask shortly. He clears his throat.

„Well, since you will be needing blood, bone marrow, cells and other needs- we need to find someone who can match these things in order to donate them to you, when the time comes."

„Donate cells, blood and- bone marrow?" My expression doesn't change.
„Um- yes." Doctor Hitoshi answers quietly. Why are they more nervous than I am?

„I don't have anyone."

„We- um, we want to be sure of that, run some tests on siblings or parents if possible, to be 100% sure." He keeps explaining, whirling his thumbs around his hands, until Doctor Aizawa puts his hand on top of Doctor Hitoshi's, so he stops his weird movements.

„I mean, I don't have anyone who could come into question." Both doctors stare down at me, Aizawa is knitting his eyebrows.

„Your files say you're only 18? And your parents are alive."

„I don't live with them anymore. I don't have any connection to them." It's weird telling that the people who desperately search for someone who can help me.

„Mister Bakugou, it's- important for you. Having a match from your family is much safer than a stranger. Why don't you contact your family to ask them to run these tests for you? I don't want to rush, but this disease is a time bomb. It could explode any day." Doctor Hitoshi explains nervously. I blink a few times.