“This is Temodar. This medicine sends chemotherapy straight to the brain,” Doctor Werner, my new physician gave a genial smile, handing over the prescription to me.

“Nothing is of any use doctor, I know I’m not going to get well.”

“Have the doctors sounded the death sentence to you yet, son?”

“No, but…”

He ran his fingers through his greying hair, “Then why do you think that it is the end of the world? You’re alive, hale and hearty, don’t let the disease get to you.”

“I’ve had two operations already and this tumour isn’t going to stop anytime soon. Radiation, chemo and what more? It’s not as if a miracle is waiting,” I argued. “The seizures and the headache has become a part of my life, a part of my entire existence. I want all that to end. Don’t I have the right to die without being supported by ventilators and such stuff?”

“You always have the choice of do not resuscitate if you want that,” he said grimly.
I felt like tearing my hairs apart.

“I guess you’re hinting at something which I’m not exactly getting, Daniel,” he commented, taking up my MRI reports. “Your tumour hasn’t progressed much this week and it’s a positive sign I guess. It’ll help the radiation to catch up faster.”

“I’m hinting at a way to die in the midst of my dear ones at my own will,” I gritted my teeth.

“I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “Physician-assisted suicide is not an option when you’re going through an emotional turmoil. Besides our state doesn’t offer it.”

"I’m not going through an emotional turmoil,” I snapped. “I’m perfectly fine. And I’ll go to Oregon if I have to. I will take the bare necessary treatment and then hospice and palliative care. I know it’s hardly a decision but I won’t let the cancer to force an awful ending on me, my family or…or…Never mind.”

He was quick to notice the slip though he kept his expression neutral. Thinking about Phoebe would make this only worse. She was my fulcrum, my weakness and my strength. Seeing the hurt, the betrayal in those liquid, hazel eyes would make me falter in my resolves again.

“Your expression tells you’re disturbed and not thinking rationally. These are things you need to discuss with your family and get their support. You just can’t run off to Oregon. Getting that permission isn’t as easy as you think, more because your doctors haven’t given up hope for you like it had been done for the others who have attempted this before you…the legendary Britanny Maynard to be precise, God bless her soul.”

“Look, I can’t spend time going through the stages of grief with my family. Sorry for that,” I remarked. “No mother would like to see a son die, no lover…”

I choked.

He noticed my slip and took it up, “This shows you’re not decided yet. Okay, since you’re insisting, let me make a deal. I’ll help you get to Oregon and even handle all the legal documents, but you get the permission from your mom and well that someone, I guess her name is Phoebe. She’s a nice girl, so polite and she’s suffering too…”

“That’s the hardest part of it. Why do you set such conditions?”

“Because I guarantee you, no doctor will actually allow you to do it. You are too young and too valuable to lose.”

Some of Phoebe’s words came back to me.
"I’m not a guinea pig for you all to experiment on. My body is my property and I have every right to determine what to do with it."

“Excuse me, no one has given you the right to take away your own life, even if assisted. Rest assured no one will assist you. Why don’t you understand?” the doctor's whiskers twitched in anger.

“Because I’ve made my decision. Phoebe needs to know nothing about it. It’ll all be over soon. And besides, I’m not too assured with me doing well, because I know brain cancer accelerates quickly and decline is precipitous.”

“Daniel! Oh, I’m sorry doctor,” a voice rang out.

I froze. How much had she heard?

“You know, Daniel,” she began, waving her hands full of files and reports and the edge of excitement in her made my heart sink. “I have finally agreed to be funded by the Debra and I gave my consent to go through the treatment plans, graft or whatever and I guess I’m ready to take the risk to have a better life with you. A life free from the daily hassles, though it is a dream, I know.”

She seemed flustered and I tried a smile for her sake, “That’s good news, I’m…”

“Phoebe! Your boyfriend supposedly has made up his mind to end his life by hook or by crook, He has been begging me to do it without your consent,” the doctor interrupted.

The files fell from her hands, scattering all over the floor.

I couldn’t bear to look into her eyes which had reduced to nothing but glass. The pain, the love, longing, everything was being erased and what I saw in those hazel eyes was anger. Pure raw anger seemed to be surging through her, as she struggled to speak.

The world seemed to have slowed down around us and there was the silence which was more excruciating than any physical discomfort. Her eyes shot daggers.

“I HATE YOU!” she screamed, finally breaking free of the stance.

A/N What the doctor did, was it right?