Personal Narrative: How Cancer Has Changed My Life

Everyone hears the word “Cancer” and automatically thinks death? Imagine being told you have cancer a month before Christmas and having to start chemotherapy right away. That was me at age 16 barely a junior in High School, they say high school is supposed to be a great experience. And it was at the beginning which was my freshman and sophomore year. I was that girl athlete with lots of friends who went day by day not caring about my health I would eat lots of junk food and stay up late at night. I come from a Hispanic family single parent my mom and 4 siblings 3 girls and one boy. Two had already gotten married and there was only 3 left at home including me. My mom would work out in the fields so sometimes she 'd come home late, therefore

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.

“Sarah has cancer,” is a phrase that changed my life. I was barely ten years old when my dad picked me up from volleyball practice to explain why my little sister had been in the hospital so much. At the time, Sarah was eight and had been in and out of hospitals and various doctor’s appointments over the past two months to try and figure out what was going on. Learning she had cancer was both a relief and burden. The feeling of relief occurred because now we finally knew what was wrong, but it was a burden because you hear about cancer in the elderly, not in eight year-old girls that love sports.

“We can’t go out tonight. I already told you that.” Cali told her best friend Caleb now very annoyed.

During the 2007 I got great news, I was accepted at UNC-Charlotte. Meanwhile, I had no idea 2007 my world would be turned upside down with bad news. My mother’s broth and sister were both diagnosis with Cancer. What’s most painful both siblings pasted away six months apart? Meanwhile, more bad news came my way when I mother was diagnosis with Cancer and Renal failure. I talked to my mother’s medical team, they voice they never seen where three siblings having cancer all at once in the same year, just months apart. Consequently, my mother survived her cancer just after two chemo treatments. I came home every weekend to help with her care. One promise to my mother I made was not to drop out of school, it was important to her that I finished

There is nothing anyone could have done. My sister didn’t mean to get cancer, and she couldn’t have stopped it from growing. I just wish things had happened differently and that my entire family wouldn’t be turned away from me now.

In sometime of January, my father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. He was feeling shoddy for more than five months. At some point, the pain was so horrific he had to go to the doctors to get checked out. The first time he had gone the doctors found nothing. He went a second time, and the doctors thought the pain was coming from his lungs, then they thought it was his heart. Those were neither of his cases, he soon found out the problem was coming from his pancreas.

When I was in 6th grade my Aunt Dana was fighting cancer, and had been for 3 ½ years, I supported her all the way through it. So we held a rally in Thompsonville to support her and show her how much she meant to all of us, and that if she could fight cancer and get up every morning knowing it could be her last than we can get up and fight our battles. She was my light in a very dark tunnel.

Have you ever feel like luck is not by your side.? That’s how I felt for many years. The environment in which I was raised shaped me into a resilient person and I’m thankful for that because I survived both cancer and my parents’ divorce.

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.

Have you ever felt so broken and lost that you believed you simply couldn’t keep going on in life, as if the barriers of your life caved in and suffocated the very existence in which you lived? This pain was all that I knew in the months following my grandfather’s loss to cancer in July of 2008. Fighting until his dying breath, it was a moment in my life that rocked and shattered my heart like fragile glass. His death required me to adapt to and appreciate life and showed me that no obstacle is to big overcome if you maintain hope and a positive outlook.

Everything in life can be associated with a color, happiness is a bright and inviting yellow, while sadness could be a dull and dismal grey. One afternoon, my twin brother, Chris, and I were sitting on the couch, smiling and laughing with one another. Vibrant shades of yellows and oranges surrounded us and made me feel safe and at ease. Our parents walked into the living room with somber looks on their faces, my mother looked upset. That was the day I found out my mother had been diagnosed with Breast Cancer. The Russell’s lifestyle was challenged now with a horrible plague my mother was burdened with. The prominent color present in the house went from a warm red to a darker shade, a color I associate with the threat of death. Something about that didn’t sit well with me.

One of the most difficult things I’ve ever experienced has been my battle with cancer. When I was 21 I was preparing to submit my mission papers. What was supposed to be a simple physical exam, turned into an unexpected battle. In October 31, 2013 my doctors diagnosed me with papillary cancer. I had surgery, and a couple weeks after had radiation treatment. Months later I was told I was cancer free, and I received my mission call. I was assigned to serve in the Colorado Denver South Mission. Unfortunately a week after I got my mission call, I was told that my cancer was back, and had actually spread to my lymph nodes; its next target would be my lungs, thus making my goal to serve a mission seem further from my reach. I went through the process

I went in to go get a physical check up as I have been a mud obstacle course that raises funds for those with breast cancer. They have them every year. Two years ago, when I went in tor my physical a hard lump was found in my left breast. My primary care doctor sent me to get a mammogram. All I could think about how those in the past said it will hurt as your breast is being squeeze to death between two plastic plates. I had to answer a long questionnaire about my life. The breast care center wanted to know if I led some wild lifestyle involving alcohol or drugs plus more.

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.