REVISED:The Boy With A Touch Of Cancer (BxB)

11. Back To The Hospital

The next morning, I woke up and rolled over, groaning in the process as it felt like I'd been run over by a truck. It didn't surprise me that my body hurt since I spent most of my night on the bathroom floor puking up what little amount of food I managed eat.

I stretched in an attempt to ease the stiffness in my limbs. As I tried to sit up I started coughing so hard it felt like I was gonna cough up my fucking lung. What the fuck is with all the coughing this week?

A deep stabbing pain filled my chest, and it was making it painful to breathe.

I slid off my bed and struggled to my feet. Every muscle in my body was stiff and it felt like they were being weighed down by lead.

I shuffled over to my dresser, and I grabbed a thermometer off the top of it. I popped it in my mouth, already knowing I was definitely running a fever just by how hot I was.

103.3, that's what the thermometer said, and for my leukemia filled bloodstream--rendering my body's ability to naturally fight infections--that's a really high temperature.

Shit. I tossed the thermometer back on my dresser, now fully alert (apparently all my body needed was the fear of being sick to wake itself up) and terrified.

I ran out of my room and down the stairs. As I entered the living room, I yelled, "Hey, Mom!"

"Yeah!" she answered

"I'm...uh...I..." I panted, stopping at the end of the stairs to catch my breath.

Mom looked me up and down, her eyes widening. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

I slid into a seat at the dining table, my chest feeling like it was about to burst into flames.

Mom came over to the table, worry filling her eyes as she sat down across from me. "What's going on, Ethan?"

I said all in a frantic rush, "I'm running a fever. I can't stop coughing. I can't fucking breathe. I'm more tired than usual, and even the thought of eating makes me wanna puke..."

Mom stopped my rambling by flying out of her chair and pelting me with questions. "How high is your fever? How long have you had it? When did your symptoms start..." she trailed off as she paced back and forth in front of me, obviously trying to work off her nervous energy. She stopped pacing and turned her terrified gaze to mine. "Do we need to go to the doctor? Is it that bad? I just don't want it to be like last time..."

She trailed off again and tears filled her eyes as she stared at me. Her lip started trembling slightly, and I really didn't want her to cry, so I jumped out of my chair (gritting my teeth through the pain) and tightly wrapped my arms around her.

"Shh. I'm okay, Mom, really. I'm sure it's just a little cold or something," I said gently into her hair, attempting to keep her from freaking out as much as I was.

She took a deep shaky breath and pulled away from my chest. She looked up into my eyes, and said with a humorless laugh, "What the hell am I doing? I should be comforting you right now."

I swiped the few tears that had leaked out of her eyes away, and I forced confidence in my voice. "I'm okay, Mom. You need more comfort than I do right now. I mean, do you see me crying?"

She laughed lightly. "Well, thank you for calming me down, but now we have to focus on you. I'm calling Dr. K and seeing what she has to say, okay?"

I nodded and one corner of my lips lifted slightly. "Okay. You do that, and I'm going to eat since I'm starving."

That was technically a lie as even the thought of food was making me feel nauseated, but I wanted her to think I wasn't as sick as I felt, so she wouldn't freak out any more than she already did.