I have managed to attend this class twice this week, a record as of late. I went in for an appointment on Tuesday and was admitted because my medication was damaging my kidneys and liver. A mess that I have to keep watering down because I am swamped with biology and physics. Although, I won't be in school for much longer, I've decided to get a bone marrow transplant. This is the only cure for my illness. There is a 70% chance it will work, and a 30% chance I will die. I suppose there is a percentage of how likely a person is to die any given day so I'm not bothered by it. Death is not the scary part. The worst part would be holding my mother's hand as she watched me slip into nothingness. Or seeing my baby brothers for the last time. Though I can't let my fear intervene with the reality of this situation. I am a frail being, and chemotherapy in itself might kill me. I've accepted this. So when I look back on this week I see exponential decay. I see the gleam of my jaundiced skin, horrifying, but excited to be back to school. I see devastation as I found out I was going to be back in the hospital, missing more school. Then I see nothingness as I realized that I won't be able to continue taking this class for much longer, I won't walk at my graduation, may not see my brothers grow old. I reflect, and it's painful. Soon I will look like the child in the picture and life just won't seem worth it.
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April 2017
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