How I Changed My Life

In our lives there are people that we meet that make a difference in our life because they have an impact on us. One person who has impacted me other than my family is my school bookkeeper terry march. I was blessed to meet her through my high school summer internship and have been her intern from junior to senior year. She has altered my life in many ways, such as giving me confidence and motivating me. Having someone outside of my family supporting allows me to believe in what im capable of. Iam also thankful for giving her experience with papework, filing , handing monety because it wil give me an advantage.

My maternal aunt gathered us together and we all sat on the couch. She turned to my mother and told us she had cancer. I looked at my aunt and I did not know what to say or how to respond. Three months later, my father received a phone call from his sister telling him that my pregnant cousin, Elizabeth, was diagnosed with leukemia and had to give birth to her premature baby. She and I grew up in the same house in Arizona and what hurt me the most was not being able to be with her during this difficult time. When we went to visit her in Arizona, my dad told us before entering the hospital room that he did not want us to cry in front of her. I was scared to enter. I did not know what to say to her but I knew I had to be strong. We stayed there for the holiday season but we never celebrated the holidays, that was too

When my dad came home that evening he sat me down and asked me if I knew what cancer was. I had an idea so I just nodded my head, he went on to tried to explain to me how bad the cancer was that my mom had been diagnosed with. Seeing my dad so afraid scared me. The fear I felt then led me to realize that I needed to try and hide it because it would only hurt my dad more to see his children so upset. I did my best to help, I tucked my little sisters into bed while my mom was away at the hospital, read them stories and did the best I could at preparing snacks to comfort them. After my mom arrived home and she recovered from the surgery she started chemotherapy. The miserable treatment that attacks the cancer also makes her very ill. Every other week she was sick. Before every bad week I wanted to cry, but that wouldn’t help anyone. Lane and Kenna already were crying, if I cried it could only hurt my parents

This leads to where I started back at my house when my dad told my sister and I that my grandfather was diagnosed with Leukemia. That was one of the hardest things for me to hear considering that my grandfather was a big part of my life. My dad said that he was going to be in hospice care without chemotherapy because he said: “That he had lived his life.” Two weeks after being put into hospice care my grandfather passed away with all of his family by his side.

When I found out my aunt had breast cancer I was devastated because I thought of all of the things we used to do before she died. I remember when I was younger she would take care of me and my brother since my parents would be working or my mom would be at school. When me and my brother was younger she would drag my brother in the wagon and carry me in the wagon since I was smaller then my brother we would go up town and run erands with her we would go to the Piggly Wiggly so she can get groceries, To the drug store so she could get her medicine and the people that worked their would give us some candy everytime we went and we would go to Bonnies when it was open and get a cheese burger. When she would cook she would let me and my brother

I didn’t see her a whole lot because she lived far away. I wish I had gotten to see her more often before she passed. Having someone close to you be ripped away by cancer really just sucks. Cancer is a really dreadful thing. 12.7 people are diagnosed with cancer a year and 7.6 million of those people die. My aunt was among those 7.6 million.

I crawled into bed with her one night. Under the blankets and wrapped in her arms, I whispered, “Why did the doctors take your hair away?” To this, my mom softly explained to me the process of chemotherapy. I was four years old at the time, and two years prior to this my mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 Non Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Having never drank, smoked, or done drugs, her diagnosis came as an incredible shock. She fought it for the next three years of her life, and though I was very little at the time, I have very vivid memories of being with her through this. I remember rubbing her bald head while we watched movies, I remember painting her pictures daily, and most often I remember doing yoga with her on the beach.

After a long time of tears, torture, and heart-ache, my mom was sitting on the couch why I was on my knees leaning on the armrest listening to her why she talks, with a bright smile on her face she calmly said, “They can’t find any cancer in me.” My face lit up, as my smile got bigger and bigger. I jumped on my mom giving her a big hug just screaming out of

After a while of sitting in my grandparents living room mindlessly playing with my toys I decided to get up. I walked towards the commotion going on in the small hallway connecting the living room to the kitchen. The gathering of people consisted of my mom, dad, grandpa, and grandma. Curious about what was going on I walked over to the group. I reached my mom and looked up to see that her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had been crying. I looked over to my dad and his face, like everyone else's, was grim. During this time I kept hearing one repeating word, cancer. I started to listen more closely to the conversation going on around me because even at the age of seven I knew that cancer was bad news. I listened intently and heard my mom explain how she had colon cancer.

On a chilly Saturday afternoon around the end February, I arrived home from my grandparents only to find that my great aunt, who lives in Washington State, had taken my great grandmother to the emergency room because she couldn't walk. My aunt was up here visiting at the time. My great grandmother was in the local hospital for a few days before they shipped her to Maine Medical Center in Portland, where they proceeded to diagnose her with breast cancer and lymphoma. The breast cancer had a tumor that was against her spine, so she couldn't walk. This was her third time being diagnosed with cancer. The round that did her in.

One day, on a crisp summer evening, my two brothers had visited from sebring.My mother had told us to sit down on the couch and thats what we did. I knew something was wrong when my brothers looked at me worriedly...Logan started crying and I got really worried, then my mom began with the words “Olivia, I know you don't want to hear this but, i’m diagnosed with cancer”....she explained how she was diagnosed with it, she had a lot of tumors and a lump in her throat, I didn't believe this, my life had changed forever at that moment, I thought to myself, how was i going to cope with this? The change would be hard but maybe it will bring something good hopefully

I cannot describe what I felt when my mom told me she had cancer. I was sad, I was scared; I did not even know if I felt anything. My mom, however, stayed positive and hopeful while I stayed quiet and seemingly apathetic. There was an obvious ironic contrast between the emotional state of me and the woman who actually had cancer.

On March 6, my mom and I were driving home from school and she was acting completely normal. I had known about my Uncle Tom being sick and I knew he was probably going to die that night. My uncle and I didn’t have the strongest relationship, but we still would talk at all of the family gatherings. I was pretty sad that he was going to die, because I felt bad

I clearly remember the day I found out about my granddad's passing. I was at school. It was a normal, joyful day. My dad was planning on picking me up, but instead my friend's mom picked me up. He would not tell me why, but I did not think much of it. I remember the car ride to my house. My friend's mom would not tell me why she was driving me home; all she told me was, "Just know, Ryan, that we will be here for you no matter

I like to myself agnostic, even though I was brought up to be Jewish my whole life. I would like to start from the very beginning. My father was brought up reformed Jewish. My mother’s parents are Jewish even though she was not brought up Jewish. When my mother became older her religion became a lot more important to her, and by association it would be forced to be important to me.