When I was first diagnosed with cancer, I thought the whole world had turned them self against me. After all the things I’ve said ;and thinking about all the good things I might have done, I thought I deserve a longer life. But then, it was not to be.

You never thought that you would be one of the victims. I’ve watched some skinny people who had been diagnosed with cancer as well. I’ve received hundreds of forwarded email telling a beautiful story about how a cancer patient lived out their last moments. It was obviously not something nice to watch and feel though.

When I was talking about death every now and then, I’ve mentioned, there would be a sign for everyone when death is nearing you. Perhaps talking too much about death would have drawn death closer to me.I’ve still got much to do in this world; at least that was what I thought. How am I going to blog anymore? How can I fuck up girls when I think what they’re doing is wrong? What will ever happen to my charity plan?

I know all my life mostly what I’ve consumed and taken had taken me into this stage. No one in my family suffers from this terrible disease. Then, how come me? Maybe it’s fated, or maybe it is dated back to when I had my first cigarette. Along the way, doing drugs occasionally and excessive alcohol might have caused it.

But then, there are some others who do not even do anything else other than smoking and drinking? How come they’re all good and fine (at least from what I see)? How come at 24 I’m down when I’ve just smoked 1515 cigarettes?

I knew for a fact roughly that was the amount I’ve smoked because when I saw the doctor, she took her calculator and put up a calculation of how much nicotine and tar I would have wrapped in my lungs. She was not pleased with that. But I didn’t know at that time. I didn’t know how serious it was at that time.How long would this body last? I’ve seen it in the movies, most probably 6 months. At least that’s how much I think they can live with lung cancer.

Of course, I’ve done some of the most evil thing some man can think of. But hardly have I harmed others, as much as I’ve harmed myself. All this dangerous substance I’ve consumed would have triggered this disease upon me. And as if now it’s a curse, I would have to carry it, for the rest of my life. Ah well, for the rest of my short life that is. On the other hand, luckily my house is insured so that my parents would not be burdened after my passing, as there would not be any payment. Well, that is the only positive thing about this disease.

How would my funeral be? Would my friends be attending it? Would they do it like how it was done to the rest of the mates? Would there be a banner that displays “www.ragedindian.com” ? That might be really funny, as none would be writing in this blog anyway. What is the purpose of getting the ‘hit’ then? And how nice it would be to promote your own website in your ‘own’ funeral? First in the history to do so.

I was thinking of writing as much as article possible, maybe like 1000 articles and so. Then, draft it , and every 2-3 days it automatically publishes. I can only watch from above all the comments, I don’t really know if I can come online from ‘there’. What would the other blogs do? Perhaps there would be a mourning ‘post’ in Makkez blog. And some other Indian blogs might be mentioning my name , they might grab hold of my picture and put it in their blog. The visitors would simply finish it off with few letters in the comment section : RIP .

How else should I spend my last moments?

Should I be more of a devoted person? Or should I try to get sick minded and screw up every other girls that I see on the street? Maybe I should kill some people and bring them with me. After all, even if I kill, the only thing that they can charge me is murder, and I would be behind bars for life. And why do you think I would care about that when I do not even have a life?

But that would only add up to my already escalating sins. Perhaps I should just visit as much temple as possible, and before that perhaps for one last perhaps visit Thailand and fuck up any Thailand chicks there. Then, I shall visit India.

If everything goes according to plan, perhaps I would just go away from home, as much as far possible, and settle there. I was thinking of Himalaya, where I can meditate and reduce the pain inside me. But without regular injection and drugs, I might die just sooner. What difference that can make anyway, it might be an extra few days, but what difference does it really make anyway?

Oh god, why me? It’s easy to talk about death, about how others died, but now that I’ve realized, it’s not such an easy thing to be facing death. I apologize to those whom I’ve offended all my life, and perhaps even after my passing, there would be blogs published continuously here, in Ragedindian.com, where it would be the first time a dead blogger blogs. I’m no longer Raged, I’m dead, at least emotionally now.

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The above was exactly the post I wanted to write and share with you when I began spitting out amounts of blood from my mouth for at least 2 weeks. Every other day, all the time, I can feel the taste of blood at the back of my throat. It freaked me out, yet I did not pay much attention to it.

After a while, it got worse, and when I went for a medical checkup, it was obviously  not a  pleasant meeting with the doctor. I saw 3 doctors, of which only the last one, co-incidentally sharing my name, Dr.Kumar, helped me. The rest of the 2 doctors were nevertheless, useless.

They were not even interested knowing what I’m suffering from but rather said it’s nothing but because of heat. When I tried to argue it could not be possibly caused by heat for the reason it had prolonged for weeks, all they gave me was antibiotics.

Another Indian lady doctor forecasted it might be something serious, because spitting out blood is obviously not something that should be taken easy. The last doctor I saw was seriously concerned and immediately took a blood test.

The worst part in taking a blood test is I’ll have to wait for at least 3 days for the result. The above post was exactly what I thought for the 3 days while ‘waiting’ for the result. I thought, if I were to be diagnosed with cancer, then that was how my post would be. I knew symptoms were there, and watching Tamil movies definitely helped to escalate my level of fear. Plus the doctor had said in advance he can’t rule out the possibility of cancer.

When I got the result, I was waiting when the doctor inhaled deeply and said:

“Durai, unggeleke onnum ille. Cancer ellam illeh”
“Durai. you’re fine. You do not have cancer.”

And he continued:

“Aperom, AIDS ille, rathem ok, blood preassure ok, kidney ok, but you must drink a lot of water, avolo than, ok?”

And I grabbed the blood test report and looked at it. Even though I do not understand a word of it, it shows ‘non-reactive’ for all the cancer test .

How do you think I would have felt? Don’t worry my dear Indian girls, I’m back.

*It seems I had some throat infection and thus it got better after taking some regular medicines. I’m no longer spitting out blood.