The Medical story
Two days after my 12th birthday, I began to get terrible migraines that would not subside with painkillers, which would usually help, and lasted a week. After countless visits to the urgent care to find a different pain management option, I was sent to a neurologist.
When I was being examined by the nurse before seeing the doctor, she noticed that the entire left side of my body was atrophied. My arm was short, I was weaker in my arms and legs, and my reflexes were less prominent. This led them to schedule an MRI.
The doctors did not think they were going to find anything on the MRI, but unfortunately they did. Directly after finishing the MRI, we were sent to see my neurologist whom I had seen just days before. I was diagnosed with a brain tumor in my brain stem that night, February 21st, 2012.
We started our treatment plan almost immediately since I was a child with a terminal diagnosis. I received 33 rounds of radiation which included taking 11 pills twice a day - including steroids - which made me gain weight like crazy. I was sleeping 22 hours a day, and when I was awake, I was most likely eating.
After radiation, I was entered into an experimental trial of chemotherapy, which included taking a chemo pill every morning and evening. The side effects from most chemotherapies include decreased white blood cell count and loss of hair, effects that were not supposed to happen with my treatment.
I had terrible reactions to the chemotherapy. After a couple of weeks, my parents decided to take me off the medication. This is where we began to run out of options.
All of the sudden, radiologist noticed a decrease in size of my tumor. There was no way to be sure, but my neuro-oncologist explained it as a delayed reaction to my radiation treatment. I was given 11 months to live, and now I am going on 5 years. I’m what you call “the miracle case.”
The Emotional Story
I’m the kind of person that laughs at terrible situations. When my dog died when I was 8, I was fighting so hard not to laugh when me and my siblings were told the news. When I was diagnosed with my brain tumor, I had to fight everything not to burst out laughing. I thought it was a joke. I thought that my parents were trying to teach me a lesson for always being a drama queen.
I tried to get my parents not to tell anyone about it, so that nobody would see me any differently. Even as a 12 year old, I knew the look people would get once they knew. I wanted to live a double life, just like Hannah Montana. I invited two of my best friends over to tell them in person, even though they most likely had already heard about it through the grapevine at school.
It wasn’t until I was sent out of the room at a doctors appointment with my neuro-oncologist that I realized exactly what was going on. That’s usually what would happen at my appointments; my parents would try to protect me from knowing the truth of my disease by sending me away when things got serious. That day, I was told by my child life specialist that my brain tumor constitutes as cancer, and that’s when it hit me.
That same night I researched brain tumors online, which is quite possibly the worst thing you can do in any medical situation. I remember crying when I realized that I was terminal; I remember my mom using Hollywood gossip to calm me down. If the rumors about Angelina Jolie were false then surely the comments online about brain tumors were false too.
As far as school goes, I missed half of my sixth grade year and all of seventh grade. My teachers were gracious enough to help me out and come to my house to teach me everything that I was missing so that I wouldn’t be behind in school. I remember pretending that I never missed any funny moment with friends and that I knew every inside joke they had over the past year and a half.
The adjustment back to my life after treatments and becoming a living, breathing miracle was difficult. I wasn’t sure how people would treat me after a year and half’s worth of absences.
You don't expect most childhood cancer survivors to understand their mortality. But when I look back, I remember not being afraid of death and being at peace with those around me. It’s the kind of situation where you don’t know what’s going on because no one will tell you, but you still know, deep down.
The Current Story
I am now on my to 5 years since my diagnosis, and I'm currently a high school junior. I enjoy being on yearbook staff at my high school and singing with the Greater Atlanta Girls’ Choir. I look forward to attending college and working towards a medical career.
