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「故事·听力」My Brain Is Slowly Dying

LearnAndRecord 2022-07-26

My Brain Is Slowly Dying. I Have One Year Remaining

Hey, guys. My name is Dave. My story is sad, and I hope it never happens to any of you, but here's an example of how a person goes through all five stages of grief. And I'll tell you how to handle it.


As it usually happens, everything started at the most inappropriate period of my life. I had just turned 16, I had my beloved mother, the best friends in the world, and a beautiful girlfriend. And then I started having headaches. Nothing unusual, right? I thought it was because of the weather, or a lack of sleep. So I was just taking painkillers and minding my own business. But after a couple of weeks, I became dizzy, which just added to the pain. I was just lying on the bed, but it felt like I was rocking back and forth... like I was on a ship in a storm or something. Obviously, I had to go to the doctor. At the appointment, he examined me and said that they needed to do an MRI of my brain - a common thing for my symptoms. 


After the test, we waited for the results in the hallway. I saw that my mother was really worried, and tears came to her eyes. I was a little confused, but my mom shared that years ago, my dad had to have surgery and he was fighting a disease. The doctors told my father that he had only two years to live and he wanted to leave something behind. A year later I was born. And after another year, he died. My mother used to say that I looked just like him. But I don't remember him at all... *sighs* This didn't make things any easier. I wanted to cheer her up, and I told her that I couldn't have cancer and that we'd know for sure soon. But I was wrong.


The doctor called us in, and had some bad news. He hung up a picture of my brain and pointed to a little glowing point. He said it was a tumor. Then he asked if any of my family members had cancer because then I could be predisposed to the disease too, and this tumor could be malignant. It's really small now and needs to be removed, and the sooner it's done, the better. But I swear to you, I didn't see anything. So I refused to believe that I had cancer. This dot was so small that it could be confused with anything! At that moment, everything was absolutely clear to me - this doctor was wrong, and we just needed to go to another hospital and they'll just give me some migraine pills. My mom begged me to start treatment faster, but I was old enough to make my own decisions. After another week I was downing painkillers, and trying to convince my mom that I was better, so she wouldn't worry. But at some point, I noticed that my vision was getting worse, and I got scared. It looks like the doctor was right. I did the MRI again, and now it was clearly visible - the tumor was in my brain, and it had become bigger. There was no doubt that I had brain cancer. Thus ended the first stage of acceptance - denial. And things started to get even worse.


The hospital became my new home. I didn't want to accept the diagnosis and I was mad at literally everything. Doctors in white coats, endless tests, hospital food, and my room, where it felt like I was in prison. But most of all, I was angry at the pity people had for me. My friends and my girlfriend used to come to me with their sad faces, and try to say that everything was going to be fine. My mom kept holding my hand and crying. I was so sick and tired of it. Why me? Why is this happening to me? "Predisposed to cancer," those words were in my head. Is that what I inherited from my father? Brain cancer? I'm in the hospital now because my parents decided to have a child who would be "predisposed to cancer"? I blamed my mom, I yelled at her, and I kicked her out of my room. I have never been so angry in my life. I thought it would be easier if I could just be alone. But they didn't want to leave me. When I was under the drip, a whole delegation of my friends came to me. And of course, they started to say how important it was to be with your loved ones and that my mom should be with me and blah-blah-blah. Every word of it made me angry. How can they not understand? I'm dying! And they're trying to tell me what I should do? I yelled at them and ordered them to leave. But they refused. They said that I needed the support of my family, even though I didn't understand it right now. Then I shouted, "If you don't want to leave me alone, then I'll just leave myself!" I snatched the IV from my hand and got up quickly. But even before I could get to the door, my head started spinning and my eyes started to darken. And a second later, I passed out. This was the stage of anger. It's very dangerous because I could hurt myself and others in a rage.

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