Cancer is a scary word. Hearing you have cancer is even scarier, especially when you're only 18 years old. I had my whole life ahead of me, high school graduation, college, having my own family, and growing old. All of this suddenly flashed before my eyes. Was this going to suddenly become a far fetched dream?
Lets back track, I'm 17 years old, I have a cough, and as gross as it is, every time I coughed, I had a glimpse of my own blood. This wasn't normal, and I knew that. I quickly told my mom, and we both knew the ER was in my near future. After a long night of endless tests in the ER, it was determined that I "supposedly" had bronchitis. Okay, fair enough, coughing up blood was sometimes a symptom of Bronchitis. I went home with a prescription to cure my sickness. Within the next few days, we got a call from the doctors that treated me, and they had been wrong about their diagnosis, they now said I had Walking Pneumonia, a milder case of Pneumonia. I had a new prescription, and this was supposedly the end of it all.
A few weeks had gone by, and I still had the cough and each time I coughed I would look down and there was still blood. My parents were especially concerned at this point and decided to have me checked out further. We went to my family doctor, and she decided to have a Bronchoscopy done. A bronchoscopy is basically when the patient is lightly sedated, and then a camera is put down to their lungs through their nose or mouth. We set up an appointment to check things out. The day of that appointment came, and the scope was done. They had found a small lump, and wanted to further investigate it. From there, I went to a hospital that could handle my situation. The only downside to this was that the hospital was 2 hours away, so the visits made for a long day. We met with my doctor at that hospital, and on February 3rd, 2014, I found out that I had cancer. I had an Inflammatory Myofibroblastic Tumor and it was a form of lung cancer. To make things even worse, I was only the 25th diagnosed case. Honestly, that was really cool, but so scary at the same time. There I am, 18 years old, half-way through my senior year, and I was questioning whether or not I was even going to finish high school.
Long story short, my doctors and I decided that surgery was the best option. So after multiple trips to the hospital, and endless blood tests, x-rays, bronchoscopies, and scans, the day of surgery finally came. On March 21st, 2014, I underwent an 11-hour surgery. It was on that date that I was finally cancer free.
So what's it like to be in that situation? It's something I cannot even begin to describe, because unless you've lived it or have experienced it through an immediate family member, it's absolutely impossible to completely understand. Growing up is hard enough, throw in a deadly medical problem, and you've got yourself a recipe for disaster. But I do not wish to call my situation a disaster, I simply want to call it a growing experience.
Cancer does physical damage, but it also ruins you emotionally. The amount of emotions I felt from the time of diagnosis to this day is almost ridiculous. I was happy, I was sad, I was scared, I was hesitant.
I wanted to be brave, I wanted to remain optimistic about what I was about to go through, but sometimes, that was hard to do. When I found out I had cancer, I did not cry. I did not show any emotion, and still to this day I wonder why I reacted the way I did. My best explanation for that is my parents. They were so heartbroken that day, sitting in those chairs and hearing the doctor say their 18-year-old daughter has Cancer. They were so heartbroken, and that broke my heart. I was okay until the 2-hour ride home. That whole ride home I silently cried. I did not know what to think. I was so scared, but I knew I had to be brave. Throughout the days leading up to surgery I would lay in bed at night, and think about what I was about to go through, and more often than not that ended up with my eyes filled with tears. I didn't know any other way to react, tears just seemed to help. Still to this day I can think about everything I had gone through, and I will still cry. Sometimes it makes me feel better, and sometimes it makes me feel worse. I just need to let my emotions go sometimes.
The support I received was absolutely amazing. I had my whole community coming together to show me who was on my side during such a tough time. I received endless texts, calls, Facebook messages, tweets, and such when I first told everyone my diagnosis. I also received baskets, flowers, and gifts from so many generous people who deeply cared about my well being. The day after I told everyone, I had to return to school. I was greeted by hugs, and hello's from people who had never given me the time of day before. All of this was absolutely fantastic, but with me being surrounded by hundreds of other kids every single day, I questioned how much of this was genuine. Did they even know my name before this all happened? I figured this was all my emotions, and I needed to be thankful for the support I was receiving, so I quickly brushed it off.
One thing that does get old is all the repetitive questions. I would get hundreds (and no I am not exaggerating) of questions about my "sickness", as people would say. This was normal, and after a while I got more comfortable answering these questions. They would get old, but I understood that everyone was curious. The most frequent question was "How did it happen?" This was a completely legitimate question, that even I did not know how to answer. This question haunted me, and the best answer I could give was "it was just bad luck." I was completely unsatisfied with that answer, and still today, that remains the answer I give.
Something else, that I'm sure any person with a serious illness despises is when people try to relate to what you're experiencing. It's so great that you're trying to comfort us, and make us feel more normal, but it's not helping. When I complain about getting an IV for the third time this week, just let me complain, do not try to compare it to the time you took your dog to the vet, and they had to give him a shot. When I complain about the long days spent at the hospital, do not try and tell me about the time you went to the doctor for a cold. Do not try to compare stories, unless you have gone through the same thing as me. It's a sweet gesture, but it's really not necessary.
After surgery, and during my recovery stages is when I truly realized how tough this was going to be. In all honestly, the pain was worse than I ever could have imagined. I was quite literally stuck in a chair for 2 months because sitting or sleeping anywhere else was too painful. It took every ounce of me to be perky and show a little bit of happiness the days during my recovery. I realized how bad I actually had it, and how tough this was really going to be. I wanted so badly to be independent, but I quickly realized how impossible that would be. Even the easiest of daily activities were difficult. From showering to getting a drink of water, to moving positions in my chair, it all had to be done with assistance. Thankfully, that assistance was done by my loving family. My mother, father, and brother were my biggest help during this tough time.
This journey was absolutely unreal. It all happened so fast and so suddenly, that I barely had time to process it. I was so young and had never even had a serious medical issue before this all happened. To this day, I have lived my life regret free. I do not regret one choice thus far. This is my life and my choices. I intend to live my life, and will not let anything stop me. I would not go back and change anything in my life because this was the path that was chosen for me. I love the cards that I was dealt and I believe it has shaped me into me. Cancer will not define me, but it sure did help me become me. Cancer is a scary word, but I am no longer afraid.
