Cancer

• Aimee Watson, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2012

I should really be celebrating to be alive by confronting what it is really like to die. Sure I haven’t died yet but it’s really going to happen. They said it would, but this is quicker than anyone expected.
When I was 7 years old I was diagnosed with brain cancer. When I was 9 years old I lost the ability to use my legs. When I was 12 I was put into constant care of medical experts in the paediatric cancer wing of the local hospital. I am constantly hooked up to machines. I am constantly found with a needle in my arm. I am also constantly thinking of death.
When you mention death to a stranger on the street they might think of an old relative passing away or a car accident. But do they ever think about themselves? They know it will happen to them but they always think there will be more time. I on the other hand think about it every day, about myself. When people mention death to me they immediately apologize because they know I will think of me; and they’re right.
I see new families come into the hospital every week. Anxious, nervous and weak. I always wonder what will happen to those children. It makes me feel sad that half of them will die, including me. My family visit me everyday pretty much. They moved closer to the hospital so they could be near me. To be honest, I know they hate living where they do.
I remember when I was 8 and I had just stopped chemotherapy and I was getting back on track but I had no hair. I felt very self conscious and unpleasant. My parents decided to take me and my brothers to the zoo. I was embarrassed to be in public but my family were always there for me and we did have a great day that day.
That night I was rushed to hospital. So that’s when I decided that when something good happens there is always something bad coming, no matter how far away.
I am 15 years old and have battled cancer more than half my life. The doctors said I wouldn’t make it to my 18th birthday. Now they are worried that I won’t even make it to my 16th.
Living with cancer is like running away from a murderer, sometimes you can run fast enough to get away, sometimes you can’t. I have never really been a good runner.
I am glad I know how I feel. I don’t want my family to worry. I need to lose this battle. I cannot keep fighting. I want to let go. If I could keep fighting I would but when your mind, heart and body are all telling you that you can’t go on, you have to make that decision. It will be hard, traumatic and heartbreaking. But you need to make; and I have. It’s my time to go.