There were few things in life that I was focused on more than my grades and cheerleading. I wanted to be valedictorian of my class; I wanted to cheer every Friday night and practice the rest of the time, I have been called strong-willed and dedicated: I knew what I needed to redirect my focus. On November 15th, 2011, exactly two weeks after my sixteenth birthday, I was diagnosed with leukemia.
After the C word was said, my first thought was “But I haven’t taken my math test!!!” I look back now and shake my head at such a petty thing. There I was, just being told that my blood had turned against me and all I could think of was a silly algebra II test. The next morning, I was transferred to Egleston in Atlanta. My dream of valedictorian was put on hold, now I didn’t even know if I would make it to the end of my sophomore year.
Scared is an understatement to how I felt that night. But when I got to Atlanta, I knew I was in the best care possible. I quickly got my “spunk” back and started making jokes with the nurses. All I knew about cancer patients was the stereotyped, constantly-on their-death-bed patients from movies. As far as pediatric cancer patients, St. Jude had painted a very clear picture of the lethargic bald child I would become.
But I never did. I stayed healthy except for the whole having cancer thing. Some people say that they felt alone during treatment, but I never felt that way. Maybe because I had Camp Sunshine, a camp for kids with cancer. Camp made me keep my head up. With all of the survivors at camp, I knew there was light at the end of a tunnel that I thought was blocked off. The funny thing was, I would go to the mall without a wig or bandanna or anything. But there at camp, with nothing but people who would understand because they had been bald, I felt self-conscious and wore a bandanna they whole time.
With the hope that I found at camp from seeing other survivors, I felt I could continue to fight. I learned a lot of things during my battle. Now that I am just outside of the tunnel that I was encompassed in, I can see what really matters. I still care about my grades. I maintained my 4.0 and will be graduating at the top of my class. But somewhere along the way, that lost its meaning. Believe me, it’s still important to me to make good grades but I won’t stress over it anymore. I was still able to cheer through my treatment but I found it didn’t hold as much of a weight in my life anymore.
I don’t fret over little things anymore. i have a new outlook on life. I found out who my true friends were and I found two more best friends. my mom, the woman who has gone with me to every single treatment. But more importantly, I found God as my other best friend. looking back, I see his hand in everything, even before treatment. I had always been a strong Christian, or so I thought. I grew in my faith but I have learned I have a lot of growing left to do.
My diagnosis has altered my life in so many ways. I changed my career and have been accepted into Georgia Southwestern State university’s nursing program where I will earn my bachelor’s degree. my eyes have been opened to the real pediatric cancer world and I don’t want to leave it. I will become a pediatric oncology nurse. I cannot say that I am happy I got cancer, but I can say that I am thankful for all the opportunities it has opened up for me.