I remember how I thought about dying when I was younger. I always hoped I would just fall asleep and don’t awake anymore. However, this dream vanished not long after my 18th birthday.
"Hey Mum."
"Hello, Nora." Mum smiled warmly at me.
She stood in front of the oven, watching something. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious.
"Hmm...Mum what are you making ?"
"An apple pie. Grandma and Grandpa wanted to come by later."
"Oh. That's...nice." That's going to be boring.
"When will they be-" I stopped midsentence as I began to cough. My throat was suddenly hurting like mad. I held my hand in front of my mouth and coughed hard. Mum looked anxious at me. After a few seconds it stopped.
But...something in my hand felt strange...wet. I looked at it, closed my eyes and looked again.
There in my palm was blood.
I'm not very sure about the things which happened after that. I remember that i fainted and Mum began to cry. She drove me to the hospital. The doctor examined me and told us to wait. My father joined us soon.
The doctor came back und told us what we already expected :
I had lung cancer.
So I moved in. I had an operation, which went quite good. Then the very hard part began. The chemotherapy.
My hair fell out. I was vomiting. I was so exhausted, I couldn't move. My whole body was aching like a hundred knifes were stabbed into it.
It was hell.
