Status: on an obvious haitus... sorry!
Dark Side
Chapter One
It’s been nearly a year since it happened.
Last year, I started to have these splitting headaches. I was sleeping more often and always seemed to be tired, regardless of how many hours I slept. Eventually, I would wake up with the sudden urge to vomit, and it wasn’t pretty. I ignored it, though, thinking it was only the flu or a severe cold. When my back started to hurt, my mom mentioned that I should go to the doctor. I refused and told her I was fine.
I had an irrational fear of hospitals. I hated going in for just a mere check-up. Doctors in their white coats, the needles, the large machines, and the fact that people died didn’t help.
It wasn’t until my mom, brother and I were having a small little dinner that I realized how serious this was. One minute, the three of us were laughing at some joke Matt told. Then, I just stopped. I clutched the table and furrowed my eyes at my brother, or rather the two images I was seeing of him.
“What’s wrong, Eleanor?” Mom asked me, gently grabbing my hand. She was constantly worried about me, and this eruption wasn’t helping.
I snarled at her and hastily pulled from her grasp. “Don’t you dare touch me,” I hissed, glaring.
The two of them were quiet and didn’t know what to think of my sudden outburst. The headache that I always managed to push back grew to be more profound in a matter of minutes. We ended up at the hospital an hour later, after a lot of coaxing from my mother, begging that it was time for me to go.
The doctor was fairly certain that the problem was in my brain, and had an MRI done to help prove it. Then, we had a biopsy done. All of the tests were raising panic in me and I was starting to get scared.
It took a while to process as Dr. Sherman explained everything. “You have a form of brain cancer, called Medulloblastoma,” he said. “It’s a tumor that’s in your cerebellum, which is the part of the brain that controls your balance and some motor function. And, because you waited so long to come in, it’s also spread to your spinal cord.”
My mom butted in and stopped him. “Okay, so you’ve given us the bad news. What are you going to do?”
Dr. Sherman smiled. “We are going to operate and hopefully, I’ll be able to remove the entire tumor. And then, to avoid further complications and improve the likelihood of the cure, we’ll start you on radiation therapy and chemotherapy.”
“Seems like a lot,” I mumbled, staring at the MRI scan.
“It is, but it’s all to make sure that you get better.”
So, I pushed my fears aside and had the surgery. Then, I went to my first radiation session and then, my chemo session. The nurse put the IV in my arm, and as soon as it was over, I was exhausted. Matt had to support me as we walked out of the hospital to the car.
In the end, though, everything worked like it should and I was officially cancer free.
Last year, I started to have these splitting headaches. I was sleeping more often and always seemed to be tired, regardless of how many hours I slept. Eventually, I would wake up with the sudden urge to vomit, and it wasn’t pretty. I ignored it, though, thinking it was only the flu or a severe cold. When my back started to hurt, my mom mentioned that I should go to the doctor. I refused and told her I was fine.
I had an irrational fear of hospitals. I hated going in for just a mere check-up. Doctors in their white coats, the needles, the large machines, and the fact that people died didn’t help.
It wasn’t until my mom, brother and I were having a small little dinner that I realized how serious this was. One minute, the three of us were laughing at some joke Matt told. Then, I just stopped. I clutched the table and furrowed my eyes at my brother, or rather the two images I was seeing of him.
“What’s wrong, Eleanor?” Mom asked me, gently grabbing my hand. She was constantly worried about me, and this eruption wasn’t helping.
I snarled at her and hastily pulled from her grasp. “Don’t you dare touch me,” I hissed, glaring.
The two of them were quiet and didn’t know what to think of my sudden outburst. The headache that I always managed to push back grew to be more profound in a matter of minutes. We ended up at the hospital an hour later, after a lot of coaxing from my mother, begging that it was time for me to go.
The doctor was fairly certain that the problem was in my brain, and had an MRI done to help prove it. Then, we had a biopsy done. All of the tests were raising panic in me and I was starting to get scared.
It took a while to process as Dr. Sherman explained everything. “You have a form of brain cancer, called Medulloblastoma,” he said. “It’s a tumor that’s in your cerebellum, which is the part of the brain that controls your balance and some motor function. And, because you waited so long to come in, it’s also spread to your spinal cord.”
My mom butted in and stopped him. “Okay, so you’ve given us the bad news. What are you going to do?”
Dr. Sherman smiled. “We are going to operate and hopefully, I’ll be able to remove the entire tumor. And then, to avoid further complications and improve the likelihood of the cure, we’ll start you on radiation therapy and chemotherapy.”
“Seems like a lot,” I mumbled, staring at the MRI scan.
“It is, but it’s all to make sure that you get better.”
So, I pushed my fears aside and had the surgery. Then, I went to my first radiation session and then, my chemo session. The nurse put the IV in my arm, and as soon as it was over, I was exhausted. Matt had to support me as we walked out of the hospital to the car.
In the end, though, everything worked like it should and I was officially cancer free.