I remember

Life can suck. My story could be evidence of this. I remember being your normal kid. With normal friendships. I remember having normal experiences. With normal problems. I remember having a completely normal family. But sometimes everything in our own little world changes, and we have no control. We are left trying to fit all the broken pieces together.

I remember my dad saying “I’m fine”. I now know that was a lie. My dad was diagnosed with colon cancer when I was twelve. I remember that I didn’t understand that this moment in my life changed my own little world. I thought that in a few short months my dad would be healthy. So I watched. And waited. I watched a once strong man now pale and sick after every chemo. I waited for the next scan. I watched as he now couldn't get anything from the fridge because with chemo it hurt too much. ‘Like pens and needles’ he told me once. I waited because I knew there was nothing I could do. Chemo was done. My dad beat it. We beat cancer together as a family. This was probably the first time where I had peace. 

Until…. round two. We found more after a routine checkup scan and the cancer had adapted, so chemo wouldn’t work this time. But a new treatment might. Immunotherapy. This thirteen lettered words sounded like magic to me. The medicine would strengthen the immune system to go and fight the disease. The only problem is we couldn’t pay for the treatment and insurance wouldn’t help. Three months waiting to start treatment. By some miracle the company that made the medicine gave it to us anyways. We got started immediately.

My dad’s immunotherapy didn’t hurt him like chemo. He is doing everything and more to be healthy since before cancer. But living on such uncertainty is rough. Words can’t describe it. My dad is doing better and it looks like treatment is working, but I still lay awake at night wondering all the ‘what if…’ or ‘why can’t I ….’. But the worst question of all is ‘What did I do to deserve this?’. ‘Why me and my family?’ Those were the questions that ate me up.  

When the second round cancer started, I began to lose hope in ever being normal again. I lost so many friends because I felt like they couldn’t get me with my problems, if their biggest issue was a bus ride. I felt alone and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine for not letting others get close enough to see how broken I really was. I felt like me and my problems were too much of a burden for anyone to help, especially with my family. I felt like they need me to be strong. I don’t know when I realized or if I knew all along that this person in the mirror wasn’t me. I was so much more the shell of a person I had become.

I remember in my science class one day we somehow got off topic, and the teacher was telling us about how waves from phones cause cancer. I don’t think I could ever forget this response: ‘Oh sorry guys I just got a text. Looks like we will all get cancer’. I couldn’t think clearly. Do you not get that cancer isn’t only caused by food you eat or waves but can be caused just by genetics? Are you so insensitive not to think that someone in the room has been affected by cancer if not me? Do you not realize that cancer isn’t a joke it is a disease that kills thousands every year? Do you really think that joking about things you don’t get makes you cool or something because it doesn’t? I always have to calm myself down. Remind myself that they will never get it and it is wrong to wish they could understand me. Then they would have to walk through everything that has happened to me and I would never wish that on anyone. I remember other times when it was someone who knows about my situation and they joke about cancer. That I will never understand.

Life can suck. My life could be evidence of this. I remember when I was “normal,” but I have decided to a new definition of normal. Normal is something we hope for until we realize that are more than everything we think defines us. I am the daughter of a cancer patient as much I am a normal kid.
-Rebekah