My Childhood Memories Of Life

My earliest memory of my childhood has to be the first major fight my parents had that has been seared into the memories of my childhood. We all hate to see our parents fight and usually when I would witness my parents fight I would block it out because “mommy and daddy will always love each other no matter what.” They would tell me that over and over again no matter how bad their fights got. I yearn so badly to tell my younger self not to hang on to that idea of love because that idea in the end wasn’t really love at all.

Cancer is sometimes referred to as the big C, the C word. When people hear it, they freeze up in silence as though they have seen a ghost. In October, 2005 at the age of 3 I was diagnosed with a rare cancer that only affects 2 to 3 people out of million. After laying on the couch for several days, and complaining of a stomach I was taken to the doctor there we found out that I had Liver Sarcoma. At this time my mom was in the navy so I was admitted into Madigan Army Medical Center, but left soon later and went to Children's Hospital. I didn't really understand what was happening at that time because everything was happening, so fast that I couldn't keep up. From my Nana moving from Texas to Washington St to live with us, to being in the hospital

At that point all I would ever hear from people was, “oh you poor thing”, or “I’m sorry!” The only thing I heard was people pitying me, but in contrary, those words and moments only sparked a strength that I never thought was achievable. I promised myself to turn those words that represented sorrow into drive to fuel that strength. The first memory that I realized that inner strength was when I was first told that I had cancer. I heard the door click open, five doctors appeared in their white coats, they would come in surrounding me at the hospital bed. I just laid there confused about why all of this was happening. None of them spoke for a minute. My guess is that they were trying to figure out how to tell a fourteen-year-old that she has cancer as if they expected me to start breaking down sobbing. Instead, my eyes refused to shed a single tear as just hearing the words, “ You have cancer.” Those three words turned my life upside down in a matter of a second. Then I proceeded to process them in my mind. Trying to calculate a solution as if it were a math problem. As if it was that easy, but I still managed to ask the question that I never

In September of my junior year of high school, my mom told me for the third time that she had cancer. She had spent the entire summer coughing. It was a bad summer cold or maybe a stubborn case of bronchitis. No one could seem to figure out what was causing the cough. A late summer bronchoscopy finally solved the case. It was cancer. Calmly, she reassured me on that September day, “It’s an early stage cancer. They say it’s very treatable. We’ve been down this road before.” The next nine months was a road that no one in my family had traveled. Frequent doctor visits, chemotherapy treatments, and hospitalizations became our new normal. We painstakingly watched as each round of chemo treatments devastated and weakened her. Through everything, my mom was resilient, tough, and determined to live.

In 2012 my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, for the following year and a half I watched my mother undergo multiple surgeries, daily radiation, and a variety of other intensive treatments. Throughout the entire process I watched my mother physically and mentally deteriorate. At the time my knowledge of the disease was minimal and not only was I fearful of my mothers future, but I was also unaware of the physiological functions that would overcome my mothers body eternally. Following a year and a half of agonizing and aggressive treatments my family received the news that my mother was officially in complete remission. Throughout my mothers battle with breast cancer my family and I met countless individuals who were

I never thought I would be affected so deeply by one word. Cancer tore my whole world apart in what felt like an instant. When my mother was diagnosed, never did I imagine it would take her away from me. I was essentially just a child who never thought about death. Let alone, the death of the one person who is responsible for bringing me into this world. I went through a lot during the course of a couple months. From the doctor’s appointments, to multiple hospital environments, then finally getting the call I never thought would come. One thing that I will carry with me is not having my mom there to witness all the important things happening in my life as I get older. The most difficult thing I had to cope with was I had to grow from a child

When I was 25 years old I became pregnant with my son Cayden. My sons dad and I did not work out; at the time I was completing cosmetology school, while I was in school I met my best friend Stephen. Soon after we graduated he was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer, at 28 years old. At the time my life felt as it was in a whirl wind of bottled up emotion. Watching my friend go through all of the consequences that “cancer” has to offer has made my mind, body, and soul regrow into the person that I am today. When you sit sideline with someone going through all their chemo, blood testing, all the surgeries, as well as recovery; not to mention the impact the disease does to a person’s mindset, has made each breathe I take every day have more of a purpose.

Following her diagnosis, we went to the cancer center biweekly. My mother’s continued stoicism in the face of adversity moved me, as did the resolve of the other children who faced pain and uncertainty each day. Their wills inspired me; they adapted to live life to the fullest in spite of their illnesses. I felt my sister would be okay surrounded by others pushing forward. She endured five rough rounds of chemotherapy. The doctors said she had a three percent chance of living, but faith that she’d be healed kept us

Knowing that my mother was fighting such a hideous disease left me feeling powerless and unable to do anything about it. I’ve always loved giving a hand to the ones in need, but in this occasion I could not help the person that I love the most. I began to feel desperation when I saw that my mother began to lose her hair and her weight very rapidly. I wanted to do something about it, but I did not know what to do. I wanted to get her a cure, but I did not know how to cure her. Then I realized that the only way I can help my mother was by being strong for her and allow her to feel my support. All I wanted was for my mother to have hope that everything would turn out fine. My mother ended up beating cancer all because she never lost her faith and remained strong throughout her chemotherapy.

Cancer has been a part of my life since I was younger. My grandma and aunt were diagnosed and luckily, they both won their battles. Unfortunately, not everyone is as lucky. My best friend’s mother was diagnosed when she was extremely young and she did not even know what the word cancer meant. She had no idea one word could cause someone

Cancer has been a part of my life since I was a year and a half old. My two month old sister, Kaitlyn, was diagnosed with brain cancer. While I do not remember much of that time, I do remember going to the hospital a great deal of the time due to Kaitlyn being so sick. Kaitlyn passed away two weeks before my third birthday and I did not know how to feel. I grew up feeling guilty because I did not remember my sister at all. I would tell people that I wanted to be a “cancer doctor”

Every day, about 1,500 Americans are expected to die from cancer. Cancer is a disease in which cells divide uncontrollably, destroying vital body tissue. Most people are no stranger to the effects cancer can have on those close to them. I am most certainly no exception. In 2004, Lauren, a 10 year old girl, died from cancer. My mom used to work for her mom, so she was close with Lauren. Before she got sick, Lauren was much like any average girl. She enjoyed doing soccer, Girl Scouts, and loved to play with American Girl dolls. In many ways, she was just like me.

I have always lived a peaceful life with no illnesses or deaths in the family. I was sheltered from all the bad diagnostics and serious illnesses in the world. I never imagined that something as deadly as cancer would hit so close to home, but it did. The moment my mom was given the news, my life flashed before my eyes. Would I ever be able to braid her hair again without clumps of hair being tangled and caught between my fingers? How would my parents be able to afford all the treatments and chemo my mom needed? These questions ran through my mind, but not a single tear ran down my cheek. The reason was because I knew that now more than ever, my mom needed me by her side.

The purpose of this interview is to open a dialogue between family members where the adult can pass on their experience and coping skills to their children, while the child can teach the biological basis of cancer to their parents. Most Americans have been touched by cancer in one way or another, but may not know exactly what is happening to the patient’s body.

I was instantly heart broken and terrified I would lose the person that motivated me to do my best. My mom had to go through seventeen chemotherapy treatments and three surgeries. Throughout this entire process, I was terrified, but I tried my best to hide it. I knew that my mom needed a solid support system and optimism in the atmosphere. My mom getting cancer made it hard for me to focus in school, sports, and I failed to be a teenager by being with friends and gaining new experiences. About two years later, I was a senior in high school when my mom was pronounced cancer free. A huge weight was lifted off my shoulders, and I never felt so grateful in my life. My mom’s cancer taught us both to be optimistic in challenging situations, trust God’s plans, and to never take advantage of what you have because you never know when it can slip