It’s funny as much as I can recall the day I was diagnosed with bone cancer after the words were out there it’s suddenly a blur.
I mean I can see the sunshine of that day. I can see my mom with my baby sister on her hip. I can remember walking home from school. I can even remember how I felt. So light, carefree and excited.
After my mom told me I had cancer she cried and then I cried. My dad walked in the house and looked at me and said “Sorry Daughter”
I can’t tell you what happened after that though. What did we have for dinner? Did we even have dinner that night? Where was my little brother? What did we talk about? Who else did we tell? The more I try to remember the darker it gets. I do know later that night I felt it was important that I tell my 2 best friends. I felt pretty calm and called one friend, she didn’t answer. Then I called the other. The second I heard her voice I started sobbing. This wasn’t crying because everyone around me was crying. These were my first real tears over the fact that I had cancer. It hit me hard and I couldn’t get the words out. Thankfully my mom was right there and she took the phone, I have no idea what she said or how the conversation went, all I could do was cry.
The next few days went in the same blurred fashion. We were thrown information at us faster than it could be processed. We met with oncologist and surgeons. I had bloodwork and endless scans and x-rays. We learned words we had never heard before. Plans were made, things went so fast. It was learned that I probably had Osteosarcoma (surgery would confirm that) and that my tumour was big, approximately the size of a softball. I was lucky it hadn’t spread anywhere else and very lucky that with how unstable the tumour had made my bones that I hadn’t broken my leg. To ensure I didn’t break leg before I started treatment I was either in a wheelchair or on crutches. In the blink of an eye I went from the girl that dances and jumps around to being so careful and cautious. I remember the days being so long and coming home and just sleeping. I wanted to escape so bad.
Escape though would not come. Instead I went to what would end up being my last day of 8th grade. On the one day I didn’t have to be at the hospital I wanted to be at school. I wanted to be the one to tell my peers what was happening. We gathered in the library and I told everyone I had cancer. It was the first time I had said it out loud and I didn’t cry. Everyone asked questions and I answered what I could. As badly as I wanted to spend the rest of the day with my friends, unfortunately between the rain that day and my crutches I fell and the fear that I would get hurt outweighed me getting one last day as a normal teenager. I went home, I napped and I truly became a cancer patient.
Next would be putting the plans into action. Surgery, chemo, more surgery and more chemo. It would be a long year.