A free write as we appoach the aniv.

It was the summer of my eighth grade year when I approached my mom complaining about an abnormal feeling in the middle of my collarbone. Since I was usually a dramatic teenager, she didn’t think a whole lot about it.
Weeks went by, and my breathing began to compromise. The abnormal feeling formed into a deep pain in the left side of my chest, and I knew something was not right.
My doctors originally diagnosed it as seasonal allergies until I formed a cough that could easily wake the dead. Even though I was sleeping 14- plus hours a day and losing an immeasurable amount of weight, they still had no answers for me.
Finally after a CAT scan and chest x-ray, doctors at Mercy General Hospital discovered the unexpected: an 18- inch tumor spread throughout my entire upper respiratory system. A biopsy would determine the specifics; however, we did not have any time to sit around and wait.
The next morning, I was at DeVos Children’s Hospital in Grand Rapids, Michigan, where a team of doctors specialize in Pediatric Oncology. It was then they labeled my cancer as Hodgkin’s- Lymphoma Stage II B, and it was in the most delicate stage.
Lying on a bed in an isolated examination room, I remember the first words the doctor said to me.
“You feel like living today?”
That was when it finally hit me - I no longer had any control over my body.
“Not really.” I replied with sarcasm.
Immediately, they took action, and within a matter of hours, I was in an operating room getting a number of procedures done. This was the first step on my journey through childhood cancer.
When chemotherapy slowly took hold of my body, I tried to attend school as much as possible. With time, however, I lost all my hair and my weakness grew beyond measure. Still I kept a smile on my face and spent a portion of my time thinking about the future.
It was about this time when I became extremely relaxed about my illness. I would crack jokes about the issue just to loosen people up. It’s beyond redundant when your friends are constantly walking on eggshells while trying to carry on a normal conversation.
Though out the year when I was sick, I had many life-changing opportunities handed to me.
The Make-A-Wish foundation allowed me to go to the Bahamas for two weeks with my family. It allowed me to escape my reality for a short time while giving me a chance to relax.
DeVos send me to the Silver Lining Ranch in Colorado, and Camp Make-A-Dream in Montana. Both camps are designed specifically for kids battling cancer. I met a ton of kids going through the same thing I was. Plus, it was nice to compare stories and realize that my particular situation could be much worse.
Now three years since my first drop of chemotherapy, to the average eyes, I appear as normal as can be. Seeing me walk down the hallway, no one would ever guess I have to take a variety of medications just to get through each day or that my doctor’s appointments are as frequent as the suns setting. I usually keep my fears of a reoccurrence to myself. And personally, I like it that way.
Having seen the face of death, I now see life differently. I keep my attitude as optimistic as possible. My glass is more than half full; it’s overflowing.
Never did I consider asking the question “why me?” There is no simple answer for that question, and even if there were, I would not want to hear it. All I know and all I’ve ever wanted to know is, at the age of 18, I call myself a cancer survivor.
I refuse to say cancer turned my life upside down, because it didn’t. If anything, it turned my life right-side up and made me realize how precious each day is.