Diagnosed.

        I didn’t start out with a perfect life. My sister was killed by a drunk driver when I was ten. I know at ten I was too young to truly grasp what was going on and that made the whole situation very hard for me to deal with. My mom went through serious bouts of depression and actually had to stay in the hospital for depression for some time. Shortly after that my parents were divorced. I lived with my dad and visited with my mom on the weekends. My mom found a new boyfriend and we really didn’t get along. My paternal grandfather passed away during the holidays and I was so worried about my dad and everything he had to go through.

          At a time when all I could think about was what could possibly be next. Finally things started looking up. I was playing softball with my friends and made the all-star team. When that was over I went to California and played ball with my cousins and had fun shopping and hanging out. We went to Yosemite for a week with my dad and took a quick trip to San Francisco and Lake Tahoe. My mom had a baby with her boyfriend and I had a new sister to come home to. I finally felt like life was going to go my way. 

          With all of the softball and running around in Yosemite I remember always complaining that my leg was sore. I was always really sensitive so my family always shrugged it off as me wanting attention. They knew me and my brother weren’t getting along with all of the tragedy and drama around us and thought it was my way of being the center of attention. I don’t blame them, every time I went to stay with my grandparents in California I would be sick to my stomach the first couple of nights because I had a nervous stomach. My grandma would rub Icy Hot on my leg and I would go to sleep crying because it hurt.

          When it came time for my annual athletic physical before school I didn’t think anything of it. I told the doctor about the leg pains and asked if I could get a brace or something so that it can heal. I wasn’t planning on sitting still and all I wanted to do was play ball again. The doctor felt around and left the room. He came back with a couple of med students that felt my leg too. I had no idea what was going on. I worked so hard at sports that I thought they were impressed with my muscles or something. The doctor said they were going to do an x-ray to see if they could find out what was wrong. We went downstairs and got the x-ray. I thought it was pretty neat because I would get to see what my bones looked like.

          I remember looking at my x-ray. I was in a room by myself looking at this x-ray. The doctors must have been off talking to my mom about what was going on. I saw the tumor. It was pretty big I thought I drank too much milk and had calcium build up or something. At the time, I didn’t know that kids were ever diagnosed with diseases like cancer or anything serious. It never crossed my mind that something could possibly be seriously wrong with me. The doctor came back and I was with my mom again when they said I had a tumor and that it was pretty serious. They wanted to take my blood so that we can get more information on what was going on with this tumor.

I was told I can sit in the clinic playroom where there would be some tv’s and toys I can sit and watch a movie while we were waiting for the nurse to come take my blood and the results. The playroom was pretty sterile; there were teal recliners and iv poles in the room. There was a small child, had to be less than ten getting medicine. I can’t remember much of her, just that she was small and I was pretty worried about why she needed medicine and if she was ok, it was actually nice not to worry about my leg for a minute. Soon the nurse came and took my first ever blood draw. It looked like she was taking so much blood. She explained to me that it was just a little over a tablespoon but it looked like so much more. After more waiting and finishing the classic animated movie that was on at the time we were told that the blood did detect something was going on and that we would need to come back and see an oncologist the next day.

I was pretty scared. I knew I had a tumor and that definitely meant surgery. There was a possibility of this tumor being cancer and I had to see a cancer specialist the next day. I thought I was going to lose my leg and that I would never play softball again. My mom gave me the Tylenol 3 with codeine, but all it did was make me very sick to my stomach. I didn’t know if I was going to live or die. I was so worried about my parents having to deal with the loss of another daughter. I didn’t want to put them through that again.

The next day came and we went to the oncologist. My dad met us at the office. I knew then that there really was something to my fears and that if my mom and dad who haven’t gotten along for a long time were together in the same room to talk to the doctor. The three of us sat in a room where we met a very nice doctor that reminded me of Richard Dreyfuss. He explained that I would have surgery in 2 days for a biopsy and we were to prepare ourselves because this was most likely cancer.

 I remember going into surgery for the first time. I was pretty scared because I have never been through anything like it before everything was foreign and quickly becoming very real to me. I had my surgery and knew that all I could do was wait for a diagnosis and a plan. This was all happening the first week of school and I hadn’t been to class yet. I wanted to see my friends and have them there with me. A day or two after surgery we got word that this was cancer and because the tumor was so large, we needed to act right away.

          Another day passed and I was back in surgery. I was going to have a port-a-cath inserted under my skin just below my collar bone. This is a semi-permanent central line. The doctors knew my veins would not be able to handle the massive amounts of chemotherapy and blood draws. I was told this was the preferred option as a teen because the hep-cath was the same thing but external and was more susceptible to infections. I knew then that the next Monday I would be an inpatient and getting my first chemo.

          I was sitting at home in the middle of all of this when my friend Michelle called me. I remember her asking if I was ok and if I would be in class. I remember handing the phone off to my dad because I couldn’t tell her what was going on. I listened to him tell her that I had bone cancer and that I could lose my leg. I was so devastated that I might not get to play softball with my friends and be like my big sister again. That was my one connection to her and I was very quickly losing her. I was so lost but at that time all I knew was that I couldn’t let my parents lose another daughter and that no matter what it took I would make it, leg or no leg.

My friend Jenny and I are going to write a book about what it was like being a teenager with cancer. Everything from the first diagnosis, the good and the bad times in the hospital. What kinds of things and people got us through it all. Everything! Even what it's been like to be in remission and the worries about the cancer coming back. Jenny and I have a very unique story to tell. I was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma when I was 13 and had 9 months of Chemo and then just over a year ago I had mets to my lung. The February after I had started treatment for the mets I was told about Jenny, a 13 year old that was just diagnosed with osteosarcoma to her right femur.  We were roommates several times and have remained very good friends since then. Jenny also ended up with mets to her lung a little after her last chemo for the tumor in her leg. It's always been so interesting how much our stories have paralleled. We went on a "Sunshine Kids" trip to Orlando and grew even closer as friends in 1999. Just a little bit after we got back Jenny has another mets, this time to her right leg, this is when her leg was amputated. I really think that we have a lot to say and can offer a lot of help to adolescents with cancer. There truley isn't enough out there for teenagers and, honestly, people don't like to think that kids get cancer. I was so greatful for the movie My Sisters Keeper because it reminded people that cancer isn't just something old people and women get.

So here I am wanting to know what you guys and gals think about this idea and asking what you think. If you were a childhood cancer patient, would it have been helpful to have a collabaration of short stories to look at written by people who have been in your shoes and know what it's like?