For granted

This smell, the smell of disinfectant mixed with drugs and whatever else makes me hate this smell so much. It's so pungent. Every time I perceive this smell it makes my dreaded reality seem just too real. I already have enough reminding me every day. The site of the uniform irks me. I wonder whose idea it was to create such discriminating and depressing clothing - they couldn't even give it a little flair. I feel like wearing it just wears you down and I refuse to be tied down by such depressing clothing. 

The floors were so clean, it was glinting. I could see my reflection on them. Across the hallway from where we were Was The maternity ward, pregnant women sat in numbers waiting for a consultation with the doctors - at least some people did come to the hospital for a good reason. 

The nurses walked around the different wards checking on patients, some of them looked like they could use some rest, some of them had huge smiles on their faces ready to assist a patients, others wore frowns just from thinking about the task ahead I presumed. It must be so difficult working in a hospital, I don't know how they manage to stay sane with so many sick patients and with people dying daily. It definitely wasn't a job for me - not that I could have one now even if I wanted. 

The air around the place is suffocating. 

My mum senses my discomfort, she tightens her fingers around mine and brings out a nose mask for me to put on. She knows how sensitive I am to smell, and she knows how much I hate the smell of this place. 

I'm grateful I have her around, I don't know what I'd do without her. Having a mum is never overrated. We enter the room. There she sits, head buried in work like always. There is a huge pile of papers and a very big book almost the size of an encyclopedia - maybe an encyclopedia about the human body - on her desk. A smile appears on her face as she raises her head and sees us - I don't know why she is happy to see me, because I'm not happy to see her. 

" Hi, Hailey. " 

I don't respond " Hello, Rose. " my mother says as she nudges me with an elbow for my lack of courtesy. 

" Good afternoon Doctor " I responded nonchalantly.

" How are you doing today?. Remember to be optimistic and enthusiastic about your treatments. You might not believe it but a positive mindset helps the treatment work better. " she should be a psychologist instead. Always has a motivational speech to give. I honestly don't understand how enthusiastic I can be in my current condition.

" Yes ma'am "

" Shall we get started then? " My mother and I fill her in on my condition during the past few days, after which I take another series of tests ( same old) and then the dreaded chemo. 

I sit at the passenger seat, Glancing outside the translucent window. I see the sky is gloomy kind of like my current mood, but the environment is the complete opposite, still bubbling with life. Some street kids were running about half naked enjoying playing under the rain, a group of dancers were dancing to joeboy's focus in front of a huge minimie banner - obviously for promotion, others were trying to look for a shade to hide under until the rain subsides. I could see a young girl shouting after a motocycler had splashed water over her outfit. Seeing everyone so full of life was hurtful - not to sound like a sadist - because I knew I would never be like them again. 

The people, the Pitter Patter of the rain, the rustling wind and trees dancing to the tune of the wind all seemed so beautiful and serene. I've never been one to appreciate nature or the environment before but recently I tend to pay more attention to the little things around me. The radio is tuned and currently playing a Billie Eilish song. The song adds to the serenity. Billie's songs have become a source of refuge for me lately, they are so spiritual and oddly comforting though some people tend to find it depressing - I know I did just last year.

 I pull my knitted white cardigan close to my frail skin and drag my beanie lower to shield the growing chills I feel.

" You must be cold? "

" I can manage, just turn on the heater " she turns it on. 

" Honey, Jessica is having some friends over tonight, I hope you don't mind? " I close my eyes and ignore her question. Hopefully, she'll get the memo. 

"Honey? " and she didn't. 

"Would it matter if I did? "

" You know I hate it when you act like this"

" Act like what mum? "

" Like a fragile little girl who is being victimized. " she pauses " sorry that came out wrong"

" Well guess what mum, currently I am fragile in case you haven't noticed. "

" Honey, you will get through this. "

" We both know that's not true, it's only a matter of time." I don't want to argue, right now I just don't care about anyone. " Look Jess can have her party. Let's end this discussion now, I'm really tired. " I know this is just as hard on my mum as it is for me, but right now I feel like shit and I could care less about how she feels. I hate the way I feel after every chemo session, I hate Tuesdays and I hate my life!. 

I enter the living room and Jess is preoccupied with styling her hair, she doesn't even notice when I come in. I'm kinda grateful she doesn't crave my indulgence because, the way I feel right now and the sight of her looking like she has no problems at all, I don't think I can have a friendly conversation with her. I walk upstairs to my room, lock the door and fall on my bed. 

The wet pillow reflects my sadness as I look back on everything happening in my life now. Mum probably doesn't know I heard her conversation with Doctor Rose. There is no hope for me and I'll only get worse, chemo will just slow it down but the end is inevitable. I always knew that's how it'll be, I'm not stupid. I've watched movies with cancer patients and I've studied mine, but hearing it made it all so real. I can't stop thinking about why this is happening to me at such a young age. 

I hate it when people pity me. It's easy to give out petty pity without actually sympathising with others, and honestly these people actually don't want your pity. I used to pity patients with cancer, I never thought I'd become one of them. 

I stand up and sit facing the mirror. The sight of my image in the mirror is depressing. I pull the beanie from my head and my hair is a shadow of what it used to be. I used to have long dark curly Afro hair. Jess's was nothing in comparison but yet seeing her play with hers moments ago brought a jolt of envy down my spine. 

I remember how I used to joke and complain about having thick hair and how I just wanted to get rid of it or have it stretched out - well joke's on me.

My beauty has always been a source of pride for me. I can say this confidently but if I were among ten girls there could hardly be one prettier than me. All the guys wanted my attention, girls wanted to be friends. I was the true expression of " Black is beauty ". But looking at myself now, beauty indeed is fleeting 

I miss the old me and I'm sorry I didn't cherish her enough. I felt I'd always have good health so I took it for granted. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd become a cancer patient. Mum says I'm still pretty but she's just being a mum. I lay back in my bed and slowly fell asleep. 

The sound of giggles and laughter woke me up. Must be Jess guests. I hope she doesn't call for me, I'm embarrassed to show myself in my current state. I try to fall back into sleep but I notice a note slipped under the door. I picked it up to read, it's from Jess. 

" I know it's hard on you and I can't imagine how you must feel dealing with something like this but it's hard on me too and I just really miss you so much. It's hard for me thinking I'd be going to university soon and I'd probably never see you again - I hope a miracle happens. I know you're burdened and I don't want to burden you, but God knows I cry myself to sleep every night just knowing that there would come a time when I'll reach for you and you'd be nowhere beyond reach. I'm begging you, just for tonight to be that fun big sister I've always loved. It might sound hypocritical coming from me but you should enjoy your life while you still can, for yourself and for us. Let's create memories I can remember you by. Your loving sister Jess. "

Once again the tears rolled down my cheeks. Dying is hard on the person dying, but it's probably harder for the loved ones who are left behind. I had become so engrossed in my sad fate I forgot the fact that there are people who love me and whose last memories of me would be what I'm showing now. I pick up my phone and call Jess to my room. 

" I'm sorry I made you feel that way. "

" I'm sorry there's nothing I can do to help when you're going through so much. " I hold her in a tight embrace and we weep together for God knows how long. 

" Enough crying, now let's get you glammed up."

" I'm not sure if makeup would do much"

" you are still very much pretty sis " it sounds much more believable coming from Jess than from mum. 

The get together had been fun, her friends did their very best not to feel sorry for me - at least not to show it. I had a good time for the first time in a long time. 

Yes, I was once a beauty to behold and yes I did take it for granted most times and complained about things I shouldn't have like how thick my hair was, how chubby my cheeks were, how small my breasts were and how dark my skin was. Having it all gone has made me realise to cherish what I have before it's too late and I plan on cherishing these final moments with Jess and my mum.