one | hospitals

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I wake up to the smell of disinfectant, something I will never learn to appreciate. I hear the annoying beeping of the heart monitor beside my hospital bed, and feel the itchiness of the hospital gown against my pale skin.

These three things are the reason why I know where I am, and what has happened before I even open my eyes.

I got sick again. Probably another fever.

You see, that is a common symptom of Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma. As well as, abdominal pain, night sweats, weight loss, fatigue, and chest pain (coughing, trouble breathing).

All of which I have suffered with.

I have had cancer for about a year now, and it doesn't seem to be leaving anytime soon.

I always was a sick child; always having the flu, fevers, trouble sleeping. My poor parents were always having to worry about me, more than they should have.

Always having to ask themselves, did Lenna have her medicine yet? Is Lenna okay? Is Lenna sleeping? Does Lenna have another fever? Is Lenna paler than usual?

But nobody, not even me ever thought I would be dealing with more than frequent fevers and the flu.

Now I'm on my death bed, and many may think that I'm being dramatic, but I know, deep down, I know this is going to be the death of me.

I can feel it deep in my bones that my life is going to be over soon, and instead of dwelling, I've forced myself to accept it. Forced my family to foresee the inevitable, no matter how much they hate looking down that dark road.

I've also forced myself to keep everyone at an arms length, not wanting too many people dwelling on my inevitable fate.

So my once best friends have become strangers. They've become people I pass in the hall; and when they're not looking, the people I shoot looks of longing to.

But I don't allow myself to be selfish, don't allow myself to drag them down with me.

I feel awful enough with my family having to go through this, there is no way I could let anyone else experience this pain as well.

When I finally open my eyes, I am greeted with the usual site.

I see my father holding my mother, whispering soft words of encouragement and promises; that are no doubt going to be broken one day, into her ear as she cries. I see my brother, sitting in a chair beside my bed, holding my sweaty hand, as he looks down, no doubt watching all of those moments we won't be able to experience together.

This is always what happens when I first wake up. Nobody ever notices at first, and sometimes I think it'd be better for them if they never did notice. Better for them if they think I've never woken up, better for them to move on with their lives, and leave me to my oblivion.

But of course, my brother starts to sense my limited movements and notices I'm awake.

He smiles sadly at me and says "Hey Lee, how are you feeling?"

My mother is then notified of my now awaken state, and comes rushing over, smoothing my brown hair and bringing it away from my face, as she silently sobs to me, and thanks whatever Gods are out there that for now, I'm okay.

My father watches the interaction sadly, and goes over to pour me a glass of water. Only when he brings it over to me, am I able to address my family, starting of course, with my mother.

"Hi mom, hi guys. I'm okay I promise. What happened this time?"

My father then wraps an arm around my mother, after giving me a kiss on my forehead while Dylan, my brother, explains what happened.

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