Start writing here…I’m dying.
Much faster than I would like to be honest, but what can I do? Its not like I asked to be in this world, so if I have to leave this way, then that’s fate. I won’t stop it.
My doctors have me on experimental treatments that I don’t care for. I always reject the new medication even when I take small doses. Nothing has changed though. I can still feel the pain surge through my body everything, and sometimes, I can’t feel anything at all. I still don’t have long either.
Everyone dies, just at different times.
So what my time was cut short? I just want something that can take away the pain, I don’t care about how much time I have left, I just want the pain to go away.
“Lucas? Are you paying attention?” My doctor asked. I looked at her, snapping out of my boredom. I wasn’t paying attention. Its not like I want to.
“I tell you that I don’t care. The experiments don’t work and I want to just go home.” I sighed. I say it not to be rude, my doctor already knows I don’t care. I say it because she doesn’t listen to me. Nothing is working. I’m still going to die.
“Lucas!” My mother hissed at me.
She refuses to believe that my death will come quicker than she would like. It makes me miserable how she wants me to keep trying all these things. Its not something I want to endure. I’m done.
“I’m being serious right now.” I said quickly.
“He’s just a little...moody.” my mom said to my doctor, pushing her blond hair back from her eyes. I frowned. I’m not moody, I’m annoyed and frustrated and I want to go home. I said this already.
“I understand how you’re feeling, Lucas and-”
“If you understood how I was feeling, you would have let me go home last night.” I said.
I’ve been here since yesterday morning. I started coughing up blood after breakfast so my mom thought it was a great idea if I were to go to the hospital. Worse idea ever. My medication has a lot of side effects, so I wasn’t surprised to know I was bleeding. It wasn’t even that bad, just a few drops.
My doctor looked at me, and I saw that she was really trying to be sympathetic. That’s a doctor’s job though, they have to relate with their patients, or at least try to. My doctor is a cancer survivor, and as much as I have respect for her because she in fact does know what I’m going through, she technically sort of doesn’t.
I wonder if she wakes up every morning, not even able to move out of bed because her skin burns like she’s on fire. I wonder if she ever rethinks eating because she knows the type of pain it causes her. Or what about trying to be athletic, or even just wanting to be in the sun. Does she feel pain when she tries to take a shower, or just wash her hands? What about trying to walk up the stairs? Does she feel her chest cave in like her lungs are collapsing? This is only the beginning for me. That’s just a basic routine. It sometimes gets a whole lot fucking worse.
Now, everyone experiences their own pain. I would never say that cancer is better than what I have. Who the hell would say that? I would never say that I have it worse than any other person who has any type of disease. Why compare myself?
The only thing is that I will be dead in a couple months.
I sighed and started to pull at my IV. I want to go home, but my mom glared at me with her dark devil eyes and it forced me to stay still.
“I want to give you a heavier dosage on your medication. I know it doesn’t seem like its working, but your CT scans and MRIs show improvement.” she said. I wasn’t going to feel better about that.
I’m always not going to hurt my mom with my negativity.
“That’s great, can I go home?” I asked, choosing that as a response than my infinite others.
“Of course you can, right after we take a blood sample.” she said.
I rolled my eyes.
I hate the hospital. I hate having to lay in this bed wondering if someone died in it. I hate seeing that when my mom walks in here, she becomes the most depressed woman in the world. Like I said, I never asked for this. No one would. I wonder if now I can eat.
I don’t feel pain but it won’t last long.
“Thank you.” My mom said quietly to my doctor.
I bet she was going to lecture me on my behavior. But I’ve been like this for months. A bad attitude can be a side affect of dying but most people aren’t like that. I wouldn’t say I have a bad attitude but I could be a bit happier. Why? Because I’m not dead now, because I have more months to live, because people are trying so hard for me just to help me get better. Sometimes, people don’t have that kind of support. I’m lucky to have it.
When I was discharged, I knew that the first thing I wanted to do was walk outside. I don’t feel pain so I might as well make this work. Being up on my feet makes me feel so much better, but sometimes I can’t handle it. My mom wasn’t surprised that I was in a hurry, I did also want to get out of here.
I have to keep up with my medication again. I don’t like it, I never like it but like usual, I have to suck it up and take it.
Pills to help with muscle growth. Pills to help with sensitivity. Inhalers to help with blood cells and antibodies. More pills to kill the pain. More pills to help regulate my heart beat, my breathing, my digestion, my mentality.
Of course I would get so tired of this. I just want to pause life and take a breather for a second. There is not a moment in my life that I’m not taking any type of medication.
“Hey mom, I’m going out.” I said quickly as I grabbed my key from the table. I wanted to get out as fast as possible but it wasn’t going to work. I could hear my mom shuffling around as I tried to make a quick get away from her.
“You just got back from the hospital.” my mom practically ran over to stop me. I know she can’t stop me. That’s the last thing I want her to do.
“Come on, you know I still have a life and friends,” I said quickly.
I may be sick, but not anti-social. And being outside won’t kill me either. I mean it can, but it won’t.
I can handle it.
My mom wasn’t sure, she looked at me with doubt in her eyes. She always looks like that when I try to go out. It scares her. I could literally collapse any minute, but what’s even more scary, or intriguing depending on how you look at it, I could just collapse here. The same out come happens so it doesn’t matter. My mom doesn’t care. I looked into her eyes and gave her a sad face, a face so sad that she would have to let me go.
“I promise to come home at least, maybe unharmed or not bleeding. Then again, life.” I shrugged.
“I just want to see a couple friends.” I said quickly.
“Be safe, wear a jacket. Be safe." she warned me, a usual desperation in her eyes. She always does this.
I just rolled my eyes as I went to get another jacket. If I get too cold, the pain makes me feel like I stepped right into a see of ice. That feeling sometimes makes me scream, so it truly is better if I keep warm.
“I’ll be safe, mom.” I said as I put on my black jacket. It really is safer if I wear a jacket.
A lot of things aren’t safe for me to do. Driving, exercising, staying outside for too long, anything active. I can't do any of it for long periods of time. I just have to be more than just extremely careful when I do any of the above and etcetera.
I don’t really go out much and I can’t help that. I’m not surprised I still have friends who want to stick by me even after they know I’m just going downhill. There’s no hope. But friends are cool, and I’m just lucky. I can’t really eat out, or drink out, but I go where they want to go anyway, I just get water and be done with it. I don’t mind going to the mall or to a café, or a cool place, as long as its not the hospital, I’m fine with it. Its comforting. They always invite me to things even though I tell them I’m in the hospital. They don’t care. They still make me feel like I’m a part of life.
And that’s what sucks because it won’t be long till I have to leave.
It was a bit warm in here, which made everything all the better. I have sweat gland issues, so sweating is a problem for me. But don’t fear, I have medication for that. My body is very inefficient with regulating body temperature and other things. I was just a bit relieved that I could recognize it was warm. Its a nice feeling sometimes.
As I walked, I didn’t notice someone coming. There were too many people and I didn’t see this person.
I ended up bumping into them because I was so distracted by the fact that I saw my friends sitting at a table. Next thing I know, there is burning hot liquid on my body. At first, I thought the medication wore off, or my body was being cruel to me, but I had coffee spilt on me. Not to mention on the short guy in front of me, and he was not too happy about this whole thing.
“Good fucking God, can’t you see where you’re going?” he asked me loudly, holding his arms out as the coffee dripped from his sleeves and shirt.
He didn’t look down to see the mess. He didn’t look up to see my face. He wasn’t glaring at me or anything. He cursed loudly though as he pulled on his shirt. I was only surprised that he wasn’t watching where he was going. It takes two to bump into each other.
He was shorter than me, and as much as I respect short people, I can’t keep looking down to make sure one isn’t near me.
“No, weren’t you?” I asked. Not to be rude, but I was curious.
“I’m fucking blind you idiot.” he waved his hand in front of his face just to show me.
What really caught me was that I should have just noticed his pale grey eyes first. I saw nothing through his eyes, like they were lifeless. Strands of his black hair were over his eyes, but its not like he would notice something blocking his vision. I stared down at him as he continued to stay more upset that some of his coffee spilled on his clothes.
I wouldn’t walk into a person on purpose, I wouldn’t even dare walk into a blind person on purpose.
“Goddammit, now I don’t even know where I ended up.” he said and went into his jacket pocket, pulling something out.
He unfolded the walking stick and let one end of it touch the floor.
“Thank you, thank you. Its not like I need anything worse to happen to me.” he said sarcastically, really sarcastically. I thought there could only be so much attitude held in one person, but he exceeds it.
I could say I didn’t mean to walk into him like that, but why waste my breath? He would give me reasons as to why I should just go walk into a wall. I held in a laugh as he walked by me, still cursing as he tried to get by. I want to feel bad, but for a person who has a mouth like that, I can’t feel that bad. It was funny.
My friends were watching the whole thing, and they were laughing really hard, really hard. I have never seen something like that before. But I was trying to hold back my laugh because it wasn’t something I should be laughing at. Its serious.
My shirt was still stained, but the coffee warmed me up. Life isn’t that terrible to me.
“Nice one, man.” Tony laughed like hell.
“Guys come on, that guy is blind.” I said. I really wasn’t trying to laugh too much.
“We know.” Josh said. I sighed, but I was still smiling as I rubbed my forehead. I need more morals. “That was Vale you bumped into,” he said.
“Never heard of him.” I said.
“Never said you had to. But just to let you know, he can be the most cynical person you ever meet.” Josh said.
I’m not surprised.
I’m only guessing that he has a bad attitude, and not because he’s blind either, maybe everything is just terrible for him, like life or something. It might not be as harsh as it is for me, or maybe its so much more worse, but everyone has a right to be believe that life serves no purpose, or nothing good comes out of living.
People like him aren’t hard to come by.
I was entertained, and usually I just don’t give a damn, I really don’t. Nothing just entertains me that easily since the whole life and sucking thing, but I guess I found this funny.
I don’t know if bumping into someone made me have a better day, or if its the fact that I was out of the hospital and with friends. It was a good day I guess. Everything went fine for me.
But when it was time for me to go home, I was a little shaky. I was hoping it was side effects to the medication that I took earlier. I didn’t eat anything today at all, and I was fine too. All I had was water and last time I checked, that barely causes problems. If it was some other problem that my body couldn’t treat on its own, it only just proves that I’m reaching my self destruction faster.
I was finally sweating in this cold weather, but it made me sort of sick. My legs wobbled and my knees were caving. The second I was able to actually lean against my car, I began throwing up. My mouth tasted like iron and the taste of that made me more sick. Its not the worst pain, but I was so uncomfortable. Losing blood like this made me feel light headed.
I pressed my hand on the window and tried to gain my balance. I get a second to breathe, but I know my small peace won’t last much longer. I was feeling dreadful of my next decision, but I had no choice; I pulled out my phone from my jacket pocket and dialed mom’s number when I unlocked my screen.
“Lucas? Are you alright?” she picked up on the first ring which was not a surprise.
Even if I were to die in some fucked up situation, the first person I would choose to call would be mom before I dial nine-one-one.
“Can you come get me, I’m not feeling well.” I said, breathing heavily. The taste of iron didn’t make this better and I can’t wash it down with anything.
“I’m coming, just stay where you are.” she said quickly and I could hear her shuffling around.
I don’t know if I could even stay standing, let alone alive. My heart beat was racing, and I didn’t know what else to make of it. My breathing was so uneven as I tried to keep my blood in my body. I tried so hard to breathe, but it just got worse and worse as my vision began to darken.
I wasn’t staring at the silver paint of my car.
I had passed out the minute I knew it would happen.