Personal Narrative: My Lymphoma Is In Remission

The voice is considered as the most important element in the Italian Opera. On top of the polyphonic accompaniment for the orchestra, melody

Every day, my mom would drive to the hospital, and get her radiation in the mornings. As this went on for about two weeks, the doctors were very sweet. They helped my mom in so many ways, we are thankful to have them help my mom.

Deuteronomy 8:2, “You shall remember the way which the Lord your God has led you in the wilderness these forty years, that He might humble you, testing you, to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep His

There are over 100 known types of cancer, and even in this period of rapid technological advancement, there is still no cure for a single one. The result is that millions of people are left with uncertainty and thoughts that today could be their last, or the last of someone

22. "Danglars understood that 'Dentro la testa!' meant 'Put your head inside!' He was making rapid progress in Italian" (Dumas 509).

It was a typical day in the McDougal household; my sister was acclimating to college life, my annoying little brother was pushing my buttons, and my only worry was whether I was going to pass my next bio test. My dad was getting ready for a business trip to Singapore but decided to stop by the doctors for a quick checkup for his abdomen. Scans came back showing that the bump on his belly button was metastasized Stage IV Liver Cancer. I was completely devastated and couldn’t comprehend how my role model could have so much chaos inside of him. It took weeks before I could go a day without crying as I thought about my future without one of my biggest supporters. It seems for every glimmer of hope for a new treatment, a new, insurmountable brick wall appears when the scans show the treatment’s failure. As cliché as it sounds, every day truly is a rollercoaster; some days better than others. However, we slowly have adapted to this new reality and have truly understood that falling down is a part of life, but getting back up is living.

Summer of 2012, my grandfather was diagnosed with stage four Glioblastoma, and given only one year left to live. He had gone to have surgery earlier that week for the removal of his progressive tumor; his condition began to grow worse. The doctors got the tumor on the first try, but it was going to be a while before my grandfather felt back to normal. My family had many more trails and hardships to face in the near future.

My husband and I were married for less than eleven months when our world collapsed around us. I’ll never forget what the doctor said, “Much to our surprise, it was cancer.” Seven words that changed our lives forever.

“There are a couple different treatments we could do, however I personally think that the chemo is our best option. There will be a long hard road ahead of us, but I think we can do it! Now your cancer hasn’t spread yet and that’s why I think it is best to start as soon as we possibly can. Here’s what we can do…” the doctor went on and on and on. It was so hard to (even (omit)) grasp what he was saying. So much was running through my head. I was beginning to cry again, but this time I in a private room instead of in front of a waiting room full of people. “Why don’t we go for a little walk. Maybe to get a snack or something.” Caleb thought it was a good idea because he figured I needed to just get away from all the talk of chemo and treatments and well, cancer. He could see the fear in my eyes. “I’m so scared.” I thought I was crying as hard as I possibly could but boy was I wrong. “I know you are, and you have the right to be, it’s a scary thing. But you know that I will be here for you through everything, okay. I’m not going anywhere.” The doctor said I needed a good support system, and man did I have the

There is no mincing of words, nor is there a phrase with gentle connotations to adequately articulate the emotional, psychological or physical place that cancer forces upon you. Quite frankly, battling cancer sucks. The individual engaged in the battle and their support system can choose to crumble or rally. To crumble is to become angry and resentful. To rally is to rise up and use your experiences to help others. I was fortunate that my support group didn’t give me an option to crumble. I was raised in a family, in a church community that focuses on service. So, at 14 battling cancer, I was told that the only way out was through and to get through the turmoil of cancer, I was expected to find a “cancer” mentor and find a way to give back.

I decided to break the news to my family about my cancer after dinner. I figured it would be easier to do it after a little more time to think. The moment finally came. I told my husband, Mikey, and my 10 year old son, Joey, the news. They just stared at me. Then my son asked,”What kind?”

Five years ago in 2012 my Aunt Mary died from cancer. Cancer had consumed her whole body. It started in her liver and spread to different organs and even reached her brain. When she found out she had cancer she was told she only had a few months to live. I had just seen her on a trip we had before we found out she had cancer and that was the last time I saw her.

When I found out that my mother had cancer, I was in shock and did not know how to take everything in. She decided that her being diagnosed with cancer will be the best thing that ever happened to her, not the worst. At 37 years old my mother was diagnosed with stage I breast cancer. She discovered the cancer at a very early stage, which was very lucky and satisfying to hear. The way my mother discovered she had, it was an insane experience for the both of us. She started having pain in November of 2016 in her left armpit; she did not think of it as such a vast deal so she just ignored it. Nevertheless the pain got worse over time and eventually she went to see a doctor.

On November 14, 2015 I started my first chemotherapy I was anxious, afraid and shaking I didn’t know what to expect I went one

Agilulfo parve ancora esitare un momento, poi con mano ferma ma lenta sollevò la celata. L’elmo era vuoto. Nell’armatura bianca dall’iridiscente cimiero non c’era dentro nessuno.