Personal Narrative: Terminally Illness

Cozy coffee shops, warm summers, friendly hugs…1.2.3. Disastrous events occur all the time. We are always aware that someone, somewhere in the world, is hurtling forwards into tragedy. Tragic endings leave behind unanswered questions, unfulfilled dreams, unspoken thoughts. Those who love you are left behind, in the dust of your presence, spent to forever remember only your memory, not your existence. Crisp slices of toast, piping hot cups of tea, fresh strawberries…1.2.3. We all tend to forget an end exists. We spend our lives compiling as many happy memories as we can, fully enjoying the good days, deeply mourning the sad ones. When tragedy strikes, only then are we reminded that the end is there, and we scurry and try once again to make the most out of

I fight for my health every day in ways most people do not understand I lay in bed struggling just to get up in the morning only to get faced with a new day of troubles. All I think about is the day that being a normal eighteen year old ended for me. I was responsible went to work every day, and was trying to figure out my first year of college until everything was flipped upside down.

Finally, as he abruptly snapped out of his daze, he gazing at me with his deep brown eyes and sighed, "The doctors admitted my dad to Hospice today." Once those disheartening words left his mouth, his face became distraught, his eyes turned dark and droopy, his nose became stuffy, and his lips tensed tightly. Hunching over his long legs, tears began pouring out of his saddened eyes onto his freshly-ironed clothes. My heart crumbled as Grant Oubre, my consoler and companion, was crying beside me. I did not know how to comfort him much less myself; I was in complete and utter shock. As he pulled himself together, he glanced at me once again with his sagging eyes and melancholic expression as he said, "Hospice is where they make you comfortable

I have an amazing opportunity through my sister's employer, to volunteer to assist hospice patients on a regular basis. I volunteer to assist hospice patients and their families by offering compassionate companionship and assisting with errands. Hospice patent's needs are not always monetary but more often emotional support and companionship. Last year, for one of my projects, I volunteered to make Thanksgiving meal boxes and to deliver them to the home of the hospice patients. I, along with other volunteers, filled the boxes with traditional Thanksgiving meal ingredients including desserts that were donated by area businesses. It took us approximately four hours to fill almost one hundred boxes. After filling all of the boxes, I volunteered

“But you don’t look sick!”-- Wow, thanks, am I supposed to take that as a compliment: that my chronic illness hasn’t yet affected my appearance? There is no real way to look like you have a chronic illness. Maybe when I’m in my back brace it’s more noticeable, or when I’m forced into my various other braces and supportive wraps it’s apparent that my body is in a constant war with itself. Newsflash: I am sick. I was sick when I was born, I am sick right now, and I will be sick when I die. I am, forever and always, sick.

One experience that truly shaped the person that I am today is my Father’s on going battle with cancer. Over the course of 3 months the tumor had grown from the size of a dime to the size of a small orange in his neck. My Father had then gotten surgery to remove the stage 4 cancerous tumor. After finding out the cancer spread to the other side of his neck, he underwent another surgery. This has all taken place from June through September 2017. He is currently recovering from the second surgery and preparing for Chemotherapy. The situation in which I was forced into has had many positive impacts on me as a person and continues to as it progresses. After being forced into the situation I have changed very much as a person and a student. Having

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

Please, oh please let the words come. I sit, and stare, and type, and I backspace. No one will like it. My work is crap. Crap, crap, crap. I crumple my paper watch it fall. The clock taunts with its ticking reminding me of all I want to forget. It creates a beat; a song. Poetic chords and dismal notes ring in my ears. But no, this is thought I should avoid. I am great- better than great. People will love this. Oh please, please, please let them love this. Will my legacy amount to nothing more than abysmal hope? This is the last time I think of it. Oh please don’t let me think of it. The blank page stares at me and I begin to write. One word, then another, then another, and another. You will never know what comes out onto the page until it is

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.

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 sat there cold and motionless, not even the sun on that warm summer day could bring me to life. “There is nothing left to do. This is the end.” The words played continuously in my head like a broken record. I had to find the willpower to stand, walk back into the hospital, and say my final goodbye to my mom.

For most people the topic of death can be very disheartening or painful to talk about not only in regards to their own death, but in regards to that of a loved one, family member, or even a friend, so generally they try to steer clear of that particular subject. However if euthanasia is brought up into the conversation views change and people want to make their voices and opinions heard, especially when it is in regards to their religious beliefs about the matter, sometimes it just sparks a flame deep down inside of an individual that they did not even realize they had. Euthanasia is, “the act or practice of killing hopelessly sick or injured individuals (as persons or domestic animals) in a relatively painless way for reasons of mercy.”(www.merriam-webster.com). The majority of most religions are against euthanasia because they feel as though it goes against their beliefs, Roman Catholics, Judaism, Islam, Buddhist and Protestant just to name a few. There are plenty of reasons why these religious groups feel so strongly about euthanasia each has their own view on the matter, but they come together to an understanding about this topic. The major reasons why they feel as if euthanasia violates a religious standpoint is that collectively these groups feel that only God has the power to take life away, it devalues human life, it is seen as murder or even suicide and religious scripture has taught against a person or another person ending someone’s life.

The death of a loved one is one of the most challenging events I have had to overcome. The summer of 2014, I was just going into my junior year, was one for the books. It was an absolutely amazing summer. My sister had her first baby in May and we were getting to make his first summer his best, but little did we know it would also be his last. We lost him at the end of July. It was one of the hardest things to cope with. So many unanswered questions still to this day stand.

At this particular moment, a day in the dying months of the year 2015, I find myself crossing Rue de la Cathedral, the already icy November wind biting into the back of my neck, without a jacket. It’s the fourth time in a span of a couple hours, but I’m oblivious to my frigid surroundings. Once to the other side, I cross again, and again, pacing a dent in the ground under my feet.

"Everyone dies, some faster than others, some willingly and others not, but we all die. We all learn that. But it's the fact that you accept it or not. The fact that you take death in with open arms, or run away fearing for your life. I had open arms welcoming death but not now, I have to live for him, he was the one thing I would live for. I was so naive thinking it would last forever. I was stupid thinking that letting someone in would be a good thing for me. When I know everything comes with a price, everything gets too old some day, too broken, too beaten, too unwanted. But it felt so good, so wrong, but so right. I was blinded of what was right in front of me. I killed him. It was my fault