Her Cancer Story (completed)

Chemo

I woke up in a thick layer of sweat, my whole body shaking out of my dream. The clock on the TV read 3:36 a.m. Today I felt... good?
My body was still very thin and weak, but I could breathe and walk and stand and go to the bathroom on my own. I slid my legs out of bed and walked to the bathroom.
Today is the 26th of January. If I were a normal 14 year old, I should be getting my period today. But because I'm a rare type of leukemic patient, I'm on a special medication that prevents me from ever getting my period. This is because if I loose too much blood, even if its menstruated blood, I will fall into a coma and get into a bad relapse stage. After going to the bathroom, I wheel my IV Chemo pole over to my big green chair with a patched quilt.
I then pulled out an Elmo Coloring Book I stole from the Pediatric Arts and Crafts Room last night; along with the extra thick crayons. I started shading in a picture of Cookie Monster~ my favorite character.
Half way through my artwork, Perkins walked in with one of those grey supply boxes filled with numerous medicines and shots.
"Hey! What are you doing out of bed, Miley? Feeling better? It's only 4 in the morning! You should be sleeping!" She smiles and started to poke around my veins as I rest my left arm on the blonde wood spin table thats attached to the chair.
"Yeah, I guess so." I respond. "What are you giving me?"
Perkins doesn't respond until an IV is hooked up to my arm; even though I have four tubes going into my chest through my central line.
"These are just some regular IV fluids to help you feel a little better and keep you hydrated. We do this a lot now that you are older, because the more chemo your body receives, the less appetite you have and the less you are wanting to drink fluids." She explains. That does make sense, I think. I have not drank or ate anything since I've been admitted almost two weeks ago. I've not felt like eating or drinking at all. Nor have I felt up to doing anything physically active.
Perkins leaves the room as I turn the TV on quietly and flip to Cartoon Network on channel 4. When I was little this is exactly what I would do while receiving Chemotherapy. Today I just wanted to go back and be a little kid again. Is that too much to ask?