十八岁的我第一次感觉自己离死神是那么地近,是的,是那么地近。十八岁的这个季节所赋予我的是日夜不息的头痛和极度的苍白瘦弱。在离家千里之外的那座著名的肿瘤医院里,父亲心中的那个不祥的猜测终被医生无情地证实。诊断书下达的那天,父亲坐在我的病床上,把我紧紧地抱在怀里,久久不愿松开,好像一松手我就会飞走了似的。那时候,我已是半昏迷状态了,但我却能感觉到父亲的泪水一滴一滴地滴进我的头发里,父亲对病重女儿的那种疼入心坎却又痛入骨髓的爱就这样一点一点地溶进 At the age of eighteen, I felt for the first time that I was so close to death. Yes, it was so close. The eighteen-year-old season gave me a headache day and night and extremely pale and thin. In that famous cancer hospital a thousand miles away from home, the ominous guess in his father’s heart was finally confirmed by the doctor. The day the book was issued, my father sat on my bed and held me tightly in my arms. I didn’t want to release it for a long time, as if I let go and I would fly away. At that time, I was already in a half-coma, but I could feel my father’s tears drip into my hair drop by drop. The father’s love for the seriously ill daughter fell into the heart but it hurt the bone marrow. Dissolve little by little