Meredith's Story
The pain started in April 1998, when I was 14. My family and I were on our way to Florida for a vacation. The first night, as I was trying to sleep, I kept twitching. I took some Tylenol and went back to bed. My stepsister and I joked that I might have a tumor, or even cancer. We thought it was funny, because we didn't think that it would ever happen. Especially not to me or anyone in our family. The pain in my back spread so much that I couldn't rotate at all. But that didn't stop me from going swimming, for walks on the beach, or even Disney World. No one in my family knew how much pain I was in, not even me. I thought it would get better, so I ignored it.
When we got back from our trip things got better for awhile but then they only got worse. The pain in my back kept me out of school. I went to the doctor three times. Each time, I was only getting new prescriptions for Tylenol with codeine and other pain killers that weren't strong enough. One of the doctors took x-rays, but nothing showed up. Then they took a blood test. They told me I was being tested for a kind of cancer. I was a little worried but all of my friends and family told me I'd be fine.
But when the tests came back, I was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia, on May 11th, 1998. I never thought I'd have cancer, and I knew absolutely nothing about the disease. When I was told that I had cancer, I was so shocked and scared that all could do was ask if my hair was going to fall out from the chemotherapy...even though I knew the answer. I didn't want this. Why me? Why not someone else?
I remember that all I wanted that day was to go home and make my life be the way it was. Instead, I had to start the chemotherapy right away. In June, I began a long series of 19 hospital stays (every other week, anywhere from 3 to 10 days long) for inpatient chemo. And on top of all this, my parents had sold our house four days before I was diagnosed. On June 23, 1998, the day after my older sister, Betsy's high school graduation, we moved. I had known we would be moving someday, but that someday came too soon. In many ways, though, I was so shocked about my illness that I didn't even care about moving. I spent the last days in my old house watching my parents pack.
These last days were also spent opening cards, letters, packages, and talking to people on the phone. I had never received so many things in the mail in my life. I loved getting numerous cards and packages. I had no idea that I was so cared for by so many people. Old teachers from elementary school, parents, co-workers of my parents that I didn't even know, and kids from my school. I'd never felt so special.
The summer of 1998 went by at an extremely slow pace. I was in treatment, I didn't see my friends often, my room wasn't unpacked, and all my sisters were gone. But since my sisters were gone, I had a chance to really get to know my parents. Before then, I had no idea that my parents were actually interesting and that they were once my age. I never thought that their opinions were worth listening to.
On top of having cancer and moving, I was starting high school. In some ways, I think having to deal with my illness made the first year of high school easier, because I didn't think about the pressures most kids face there. I had too much on my mind to think about things like that. My friends, teachers, and kids at school were great. Most of my friends treated me the exact was they did before I was sick, which made me feel good. None of the kids at school made fun of me or even asked stupid questions. A lot of kids would stare at me but that didn't really bother me. I would just tell myself that they were staring because they admired me, and not because they are afraid.
When I shaved off the remains of my hair, I wore a hat to school for only two weeks. I didn't like wearing a hat, and I didn't mind being bald that much. Instead of watching how much hair was falling out each day, I started watching how much was growing back each day. And once I got some fuzz on my head, people thought it was cute and kids wanted to touch it.
Through the many stays I had at CHaD (that's the Children's Hospital at Dartmouth) for my treatments, I met a lot of new people. And I realized just how important family is. My family was the best, and I know I could never have done it without them. I love my friends, but I know now that friends can never take the place of family. I learned that happiness can come from the smallest things in life. Like having your stepfather (who hates to shop) beat you at Mall Madness, or playing a game of double solitaire with your Mom, or beating the med students at Nintendo.
I'm doing well now, and I hit the maintenance stage of chemo several months ago. I still get a chemo shot once a week. I give it to myself, and I am the first patient in the clinic ever to do that. I also have to take pills every night. Now that I'm in this stage and looking back, I think that the most important thing I learned was that I need to live my life for me and not for anyone else. Life happens one day at a time, and with each new day, there are new experiences to be gained and dreams to be fulfilled.
My advice: Live each day to its fullest.