Five weeks after starting chemotherapy, I made another great decision. No matter how much the doctors bumped up my chemical dose, my symptoms did not get any better and I began to feel worse having chemo than when I wasn't. So I made an appointment with Dr Basely.
"How are you feeling, Alli?" He started again.
Consultant Room Number Six. I shuddered.
"Not too good." I frowned, feeling very small as my thin legs did not quite reach the floor.
"You believe you have moved further down the line?" Leaning forward, he put his head in his hands and fixed his blue eyes on me.
"Yes. Dr, I want to stop having chemo now. It's not really helping."
"Well, naturally it is up to you. But if you continue on, it could give you a few more weeks."
I shook my head, "Dr, I'm tired of this now. I'm tired of trying to get better after chemo. I'm tired of being tired. I've had enough."
"The headaches, they will get worse."He warned.
I bit my lip and my next words whooshed out of me in one quick breath, "I just want to go now."
Death. Yes, I did crave death. Not as much as I wanted to spend more time with my friends and play football. But I couldn't kid myself anymore that chemo was the right thing.
"Okay. Come back if you have any problems."
"Goodbye, Dr Basely."
We both sighed, knowing the double meaning in our words. This would, undoubtably, be the last time we saw each other.