Solving A Hurdle

Hurdling the Problems - My Story || @jordanwebbsmith_

This is an article written by @jordanwebbsmith_. She has come across many hurdles in her life but she has overcome them. Most importantly, she hasn't given up. She's an inspiration to us all!

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Solving hurdles.

The other day I was asked to write an article about my hurdles, the main one being about my Chronic Myeloid Leukemia, but to get to them, I have to start at the beginning, sorry.

All throughout my childhood, I was bullied and abused by both of my parents; my mother a drug addict who didn't want children, my father a severe alcoholic who had to have his way all the time. I don't remember much of them, just the abuse and assault they left. I remember my older brother coming home from school two minutes late, and my father got into such a drunken rage that he broke my brother's leg, no joke. I see him looking at the scars on it from the surgery all the time, looking at them as if he is still in the wrong.

My mother liked to live in one country, then another, and then another. She never stayed in one place for long, and if she had to, it bought out the aggression. She was born in Croatia, and decided to take us over there to live from our hometown of Glasgow (not my hometown, but my older brother's. My twin brother and I were born in Texas, actually, but I'm pretty sure the first place we lived in was Scotland). We didn't understand why at first, but now, we've realised that she didn't want to be found, tracked. We don't know where she got the money from, perhaps her drugs. She finally abandoned us just outside of Adelaide, in South Australia. My dad had already gone back to his hometown of Samoa. We had nobody but ourselves as nine siblings. Nine somehow turned into three.

Speaking of that number, when I was nine, I was first diagnosed with Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia. We had moved over to Melbourne to live, and my nose, gums, cuts, basically every part of me started bleeding, and wouldn't let up. My nose was the worst, the slightest things always set it off. We never had any tissues left in the house. I was also covered in all these huge bruises, I looked like something out of a nightmare. My skin had always been snow white pale, but it got even paler. My sister had assumed it was our blood disorder (hereditary spherocytosis) as that's what happened to our mother, but I just kept getting sicker and sicker, so my older brother (not the one who broke his leg) took me to the doctors, and after a lot of needles, referrals and waiting for answers later, I was diagnosed with the killer.

I was admitted into hospital, one in the main city (Royal Children's Hospital) and I was put on chemotherapy. I was terrified, always hated needles, but I lost all of my hair (which was naturally a white blonde colour) my skin started turning dark and in my brother's words, made me look like I had been sitting in a solarium for too long, and my health just plummeted. I was getting infections, so had to take antibiotics, it was awful. I was happy to be told I was in remission, just needed another few chemo doses, and I was out, free. When I was in my first remission, I was eleven, and had to go back to school (not really back, I hadn't really gone anywhere to begin with) and that wasn't fun. I didn't have any hair, it hadn't grown back yet, and I wasn't allowed to wear beanies, wigs or hats. The kids were always hurting me, even though I was the tallest in my grade. That still didn't intimidate them. I just put up with it and went home and helped my sister and brother every night.

When I was twelve, about three months to turning thirteen, I was assaulted by some idiot who actually snatched me on my walk home from school. I'm not joking, I'm dead serious. I was trying to scream and thrash my way around, but I couldn't. I was very weak, never had been very strong. I had to give it up when my arm was twisted and pinned against my back, that pain...I couldn't stand it. You know what happened after that. They did leave me there though, suffering. I was too scared and hurt to move, didn't know what had even happened. I made my way home though, and when my older sister Jayde (legal guardian) asked me why I got home so late, I broke down and told her and my older brother Jordie (the one who broke his leg) the full story. I don't know where our other brother Blake was, and Nathan - my twin brother - wasn't around either. They were out most of the time, it was usually just us three.