The Dying Light

This is a story of a cancer struck teen who believes in the one speck of light which he saw in the hospital where he was diagnosed.This is a realistic story without any fantasy.This is a story of life

I believe some people are just there. People don’t even know about them. People don’t even want to know them. They actually don’t even know about themselves. They don’t even know who they are. Life has its own sides some positive, some negative and I have been waiting for positivity since the time I was diagnosed with this dreadful disease. I have eagerly waited to be magically healed but it never happened. This is a story unlike all cancer stories.  I am Matt Taylor and this is my story.

 

The night was warmer than most as I made my way to the hospital downtown. It was a 13 year old me, clutching my dad’s hand as I exited the car. It was a regular checkup. As I made my way to the entrance of the hospital, the night seemed to close in on me. After about half an hour the test was done. I eagerly awaited the test report as I sat bored in the waiting room. The hospital had a single creepy white light on which lit the murky hospital. It gave me the chills. The report came soon after and with it brought the drizzle of tears of my father and the night. I was diagnosed with cancer.

 

Life changed a lot after that. I approached adulthood.  My hair was shaved, my friends became few and now I was the most important ant priority of my family.  I undergo chemo a lot. Mom quit work. Dad went out less and I was mostly in my room reading and rereading poetry. They say depression comes as a side effect of cancer. Actually depression is a side effect of dying. Sometimes I would wander in my thoughts about what my life would have been before this treacherous disease before I was diagnosed with a level 3 liver cancer. Maybe I would have completed my education, got a job, have kids and do whatever ‘normal’ people do. Things would have been so much better.

Support group had always been a drag for me. But I didn’t have any other place to go hence I woke up at 4:30 am took a bath and dressed up in denims and made my way to the support group which opened at 5 am. I walked inside and greeted the 30 year old man who was a cancer survivor and made my way to the stairs. I could have taken the elevator but that would mean that I was not ready to die yet. I took a tumble on the stairs and waited for the pain to hit me faster than the cancer. It didn’t. The pain merely set jitters in my body. I sat down with the support group members. In came Nathan. I and Nathan knew each other since we were 13 we had underwent chemo together. Apart from the usual chatter with Nathan support group was all about hope of living. I checked my phone several times not because I wanted someone to message me but because I was in desperate need for time to flow. As flat as it sounds I didn’t want hope. Death was my only hope.

That day nothing happened I just feel unconscious in the midst of the group and was transported to the hospital. Maybe my story isn’t very different from other cancer stories. Nothing insightful, interesting and noteworthy happened in my life. I was and now I am not. I sit telling my tale from my death bed. Tears of my parents flowing beside me and of the doctors standing dejectedly as I await the ride to the afterlife and the very same creepy light of the hospital suddenly goes out. 

Author's Note

I have tried to use the light in the hospital as Matt's only connection to life and hope.Constructive comments are appreciated.