"These holes in my head," she said referring to her bandage, " really slow me down these days. Maybe I need some replacement brain cells, you got any spare ones?" she chuckled. The Price to Pay - Vol. 1.4 - Tears by Alys

I stepped down from the ambulance and, without thinking sat down in the wheelchair, that had been placed in front of me by John the older of the two paramedics that had accompanied me. As he pushed me up the short gravel drive to the 1930's built country mansion that now had a different purpose, I reflected on the irony of only three days before having appeared to be a fit, athletic football player. All the previous symptoms that I had assumed were a combination of end of season tiredness, teenage growth pains and not eating enough, now took on a more sinister character.

A smartly dressed, middle aged woman, approached us.

"Welcome to Ty Llonydd*," she said in a welcoming, warm voice, "I'm Mrs Harris, the manager, and you must be Celyn and Mr and Mrs Morus. We've been expecting you. Please follow me and I'll show you to Celyn's room"

We said goodbye to John and carried on with my father pushing the wheelchair. We entered the main foyer of the hospice and I marvelled at the high ceilings, large windows and general atmosphere of opulence. We followed the manager along a side corridor, past a large room full of children of various ages engaging in a range of activities in a calm atmosphere, until we reached a room at the end of the corridor.

"It's beautiful," said my Mother taking in the spacious tastefully furnished environment, a particular feature being the large bay windows on the two outer walls.

"I hope you will like it," said Mrs Harris," it's one of my favourites, it gets a lot of light since the windows face south and east. I think that this used to be one the 'day rooms' of the previous owners."

Well at least I was going to benefit from the wealth of the some rich family that probably made their fortune from exploiting my ancestors in the coal mines, I thought to myself.

"Celyn can we leave you here for a little while to settle in while I sort out a few things with your parents. If you'd like to come with me Mr and Mrs Morus we can go to my office." said Mrs Harris indicating for my parents to go with her.

As I lay back on the bed, basking in the warm mid-morning sun, I reflected on how my life had turned from triumph to tragedy in less than a day. The doctor had spoken to me and my parents, following the terrible news. He had explained how unfortunately I had an extremely rare and aggressive form of cancer. He used the word metastasis a few times and eventually I had to ask for an explanation. So now I knew that there were little lumps of cancer all over my body, slowly destroying it. When someone tells you about cancer you know that it is often a death sentence but you have no idea of time scales. When my father had asked him directly how long I had left. The doctor had paused, and then had told us that the rate that this cancer usually spread meant that I would be lucky to live beyond a month. Even the most aggressive treatment, that would make me constantly sick, would only give me a few more weeks.

My parents came back and sat in the two armchairs.

"What do you think dear?" asked my Mother.

"It's lovely, really peaceful, I like it Mum." I replied.

"I think you've made the right decision, son," said my Father, "you can be comfortable and enjoy your stay here, instead of being sick all the time in the hospital".

I didn't pick him up on how my last few days would be, I couldn't see dying as being a pleasant experience.

"Shall we go and have a look in the common room, Celyn?" asked my Mother, obviously thinking the same and wanting to change the subject.

"OK," I replied getting up and walking to the door. My father moved towards the wheelchair to fetch it for me but I waved him away with a little irritation.

We sat down in the common room and I took in the scene. There were about ten children and four adults assisting them. There was a positive vibe and everyone seemed to be cheerful. Eventually I had to suggest to my parents that they should leave to give me a chance to talk to some of the other children there. They promised to return with Goth-girl and maybe some of my friends later.

I approached a pretty girl of about ten, with a bandage around her head, who was doing a complicated looking jigsaw.

"Hi, I'm Celyn, do you want a hand?", I asked.

"Sure, take a pew," she replied pointing at the seat next to her, "I'm Heulwen"

"This looks hard," I said.

"Only a thousand pieces, it's Porthcawl, see.... on the box"

I compared the original photograph and the half completed puzzle. Soon we were working intently to finish the puzzle. At last Heulwen, with a whoop of joy, put the last piece in. She turned and we 'high fived' in triumph.

"That's great," she said smiling, "I've been working on it for over an hour and was stuck, thanks for helping"

"No prob"

"This hole in my head," she said referring to her bandage, " really slows me down these days. Maybe I need some replacement brain cells, you got any spare ones?" she chuckled.

"Maybe, I'll sell you some for  £50 a gram"

"That's robbery at that price, no boy ever had such a valuable brain," she laughed. It was an infectious sound that made me join in. "So what are you in for?"

I explained about my recent diagnosis and my poor prospects. She explained that she had a brain tumour which a series of operations had failed to remove.

"Only a month, that's rough, they reckon that I might live five weeks, so I guess I'll outlive you. Maybe I can have your whole brain!"

"You're a crazy girl", I stated teasingly.

"It's the holes in my head, let too much oxygen in...."

The sound of a bell, which Heulwen explained meant lunch time, meant a suspension of the general silliness that had really lifted my spirits. I went to sort out my food choices with one of the catering assistants while my jigsaw companion went off to collect her lunch.

The early afternoon was a period of rest and the administering of appropriate palliative treatments. I was glad of a rest and some mild analgesics as the pain in various parts of my body was just beginning to breach a threshold between bearable and discomfort.

"Hi Celyn", said a familiar voice, quietly, from the doorway.

I looked up and smiled as Meryl walked over to me.

"Hi Meryl, thanks for coming"

She sat next to me on the bed, holding my hand and told me about all our various friends. My parents had told Meryl and Sion about my condition so she knew what the situation was. It was still a strange experience sitting there while she conveyed news of the healthy and living. I could see the concern in her eyes but I didn't know how to respond to her now. Once or twice she began sentences which implied things that might happen in the next month, such as films coming out, and then stopped in an embarrassed way.

"I'm sorry Celyn, this must be so hard for you. I'd better go, you look tired. See you tomorrow my sweet"

"Bye Meryl, it was lovely to see you, say hello to everyone"

A quick kiss and she was gone.

The rest of the afternoon included a visit from my parents and my sister, which was as difficult as Meryl's had been. Both my sister and my Mother had obviously been crying before they had arrived. At least, after a little, I began to tease my sister about her Goth look and the atmosphere lightened.

"Hi Heulwen," I said after my family had left and I had gone back to the common room.

"Hi Celyn, enjoy your visits?" she asked.

"A bit of a strain" I replied

"Yes, mine were at first, they'll get better trust me. Anyway I've got another jigsaw, only two thousand pieces"

I groaned.

"It'll be easy, it's Porthcawl again!"

"What's so special about Porthcawl?"

"Dunno, it's just these are the only jigsaws with more than a hundred pieces"

We spent another cheerful hour of jigsaws and banter. Too soon it was time for our evening meal and then, soon, after for bed. I lay in my bed listened to my Ipod as the moonlight slowly made it's mysterious way across the wall.

The flashing blue light outside my window, the gentle shaking of my shoulder and the insistent voice dragged me back into consciousness from my dreamless sleep.

"Wake up Celyn, wake up," said my Mother

I looked at my clock it said 23.12.

"Wha's going on? What are you doing here Mum?", I said sleepily.

"Your doctor thinks he can save your life, but we have to go now or it will be too late!"

*Ty Llonydd = Serene House (or Building), quite a common style of naming Hospices in Wales