Far From Finished

Celia is ready to fight the good fight...and then some

Celia took the straw from her mouth and leaned back, wincing.

"Is the headache back?" asked the nurse.

Celia whispered that it was, her eyes squeezed shut against the pain. If there's no nerves in my brain, how can this hurt so bad? she thought.

As if the nurse had read her mind, she said: "It's the tumor on your brain stem that hurts, sweetie, not the cancer cells in the brain." She pushed the contents of a needle into Celia's PICC line. Celia whined as the anesthetic burned its way up her arm. Everything hurt, and it wasn't fair.

It wasn't me that smoked, it was Mom and Dad! But everybody who ever had a conversation about it could tell you: cancer doesn't care. It's the only true equal-opportunity player in the world.

She shifted on the bed. The headache was much more manageable, but it still felt like a rotten gourd begging to burst. Still, she couldn't get comfortable; it felt like she was made out of broken glass, and the damn IV wasn't helping. She cursed under her breath.

"What was that, honey?"

Celia croaked, "Don't call me 'honey; I'm not bee shit." she gave the nurse a brave ghost of a smile, and the nurse smiled back.

She started to drift, feeling the chemo fight with the anesthetic. Jesus, the radiation is better than this! she thought absently.

Her mind was pulled back from the comfort of sleep by the doctor's quiet voice.

"No, I'm afraid it's not shrinking. It's not growing...but it's not shrinking. We'll have to be more aggressive with the chemo; any more radiation will fry her brain...."

Celia sighed quietly, realizing that the fight was just beginning.

The only equal-opportunity player; but I play harder...And mercifully, she drifted off for a while.

NOTES: ▼

Word Count: 300
Submitted for "Daily Flash Fiction Challenge" 
Prompt: Use the words headache, needle, straw