My Experience With Cancer

The first memory I have of death would be that of my dog, Gucci. At the time, I was six years old. I remember waking up that morning and finding my mother in the backyard holding my dog to her chest, crying, and advising me to say my last goodbyes. I recall my father taking him to his car, informing me that he was going to take him to a better place. I did not really understand what was happening at that time in view of the fact that I thought he was a healthy dog. My mother told me that he was in a lot of pain and that the doctors would put him out of his misery. She explained that he was gone and was not

As soon as my eyes woke up to the bitter cold of the night and stars covered by black blanket of clouds, I knew that this was it. I had tried to prepare myself that day, but I was at school when it happened. The moment the intercom came over the classroom, “Hailey Wooldridge needs to come the office, her mom is here to check her out,” my heart stopped. I was able to make it to the office without losing my composure, but as soon as my eyes met my mom standing there with tears in hers I lost it. Right there standing in the school office, the food gates of heaven opened up in my eyes and I could not stop the rivers from flowing. My best friend since kindergarten had died. All the planning of moving in together when we went to college was down the drain. The late nights of watching horribly filmed scary movies was done. My heart was broken, and the pieces are still not taped together properly. Two days later was her funeral. Her mother had asked me to say a couple of words about her during the service, but the thought of standing next to her lifeless body talking about her and not to her made everything seem surreal. By the power of prayer and numerous amounts of tears, I stood up from my seat and walked lifelessly to the podium that viewed hundreds of people waiting to see what I had to say. I do not know how I got through that speech without hysterically crying, but somehow, I talked like I was having a conversation with Serra once again. In front of me, I

She made a courageous decision to attend Central Piedmont Community College late in her life and obtain her GED to gain a career that might sustain her and her children. I was in high school during that time and remember helping her with homework. My mom was a single parent and struggled financially. She entered the nursing program, but had a heart attack and walked away with her Nursing Assistant Certification. While working three jobs, she paid the bills and made sure my younger brother and I had something to eat. Later, she worked her way up to Activities Director at Carmel Hills Retirement Center located in Charlotte, NC. My brother and I were so proud of her. She passed away in 2006 from pancreatic cancer, however the impact of seeing her attend college, complete her studies, and further her education still astounds

On a certain December day, the nurses told us that it would be her last day. So all of my mom’s sisters and brothers came to say their good byes. Some of my older cousins, my sister and I also came. While

When they got back home she went to Hospice and stayed there till she passed away. It was very hard for me because my other grandma had already died, and I had an extremely close bond with my grandma. Being so young it was hard on me mentally,and I could not really comprehend it that well.

Many families and friends are impacted by this horrible disease. This horrific disease is called cancer. Roughly, around 1,688,780 cells are diagnosed with cancer per year. There has been 600,920 deaths from this disastrous disease. When one of your family members has gotten the news of, “You have been diagnosed with cancer…”

She was always there for me and still is. I had one other living grandparent she didn't want to have anything to do with my family for reasons we could not understand. About two years ago she had a heart attack and wanted to see us, so my parents dropped everything they had going on and drove to Nevada to see her. We stayed in contact with her until we went to visit her for the last time. She had a stroke and wanted to see my dad before she died, so we cancelled what we had going on and drove to see her. The night we arrived in Reno to see my grandmother she died. I learned how my parents will do anything for family and that we have to be there for eachother no matter what. No matter how bad we mess up family will always be there for you in the end. And that is all that

I remember it like it was yesterday. The horror of it. She’s gone. I never thought in a million years it’d end like that. A stroke? After beating cancer, not once, but twice. Seriously? The doctors said she’d never wake up, never talk, never recognize me. Why bother keeping her on life support? It’s not her. My dad told us “she’s not going to make it.” My brother, dropping, fell to his knees. A guy 6’2” 220, lost it. That day ruined our family. Mom was the glue, the one who intervened when my dad went military on us. The one who always had your back and took care of us. But now, because of a nation’s lackadaisical attitude towards type two diabetes, she’s dead.

September 27th 2009. I was on my dad’s weekend and my mom was in the hospital for a weeks. I would visit her every day and sometimes bring her flowers. But on september 27th I woke up and walked into my living room and my dad was sitting on the couch looking sad. I asked what was wrong and then a knock was heard on the door it was my step dad and half brother. My step dad had puffy eyes he was crying. He told me to sit down and my brother came out and sat next to me. My dad looked at us and he spoke up your mother had just passed this morning. I was shocked I was hurt I was scared.I didn’t know if i should cry or run away. I’ve learned that losing someone you love is tough.

No one thinks that it will happen to them. No one thinks that one day it might be them walking into the doctor’s office, only to hear those three horrifying words – “You have cancer.” To say that cancer changed my life is an enormous understatement. Cancer took me on an insane roller coaster for two years.. turning, twisting, jerking. I never thought it would happen to me. I heard those three lethal words, but they were not spoken to me. My father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in December of 2014.

You never realize how evil cancer truly is until it affects you or your family. I was four when cancer first affected me, stage four leukemia. My two year old cousin Conor was on the verge of death, and I had absolutely no clue. For the first nine months of his fight all I knew that he was sick, I assumed he had a cold, not fighting for his life. When I was five my mom sat me down to tell me that Conor was not going to make it, and that my brother and I were going with her to Albany to visit him. His bones were sticking out, his head looked like a bowling ball, and his skin was a pale blue. He looked like a child in a concentration camp during World War II. Honestly if you were to think of what a dead child looked like, that was him. That was the first time I realized that my mom was right, and that Conor was not going to make it.

year, everyone knows someone that had or has cancer. Even today my grandfather is receiving

As an 11-year-old child most kids worry about going outside to play with friends or on their cell phones not most, children worry about if there is going to be dinner on the table, or if the water is shut off, or if the electricity isn’t working. Most kids don’t have to grow up and act like an adult until their 18 or 19 years old. Not many children at the young age of 11 have to sit and wander if today or tomorrow is the last time they get to see their dad.

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.

My parents had been married for thirty-four years as the time of her death. During that time, they raised three children and were the proud grandparents of six grandkids. No one had to guess where you stood with my mom – they knew. She gave love and showed compassion to anyone who allowed. Growing up, all of our friends called her “Mama T” because she mothered so many and her last name was Tatum.