So, cancer isn't always born with or died with. You can get it at any age and at any time. I was diagnosed with this stupid cancerous death when I was 13, which of course sucks. It had me sitting on the sidelines of football and basketball and soccer and, well, almost every sport a kid could play.
When I went to the doctor on June 15, 2007, the day after my 13th birthday, Anna, my sister and now my legal guardian, and her husband Gavin insisted on taking me instead of having Gerald, my dad and my football coach, take me. I went to Vanderbilt Hospital and sat there in the room telling the geneticist what's happening. I told him that I had been hurting so bad that I hadn't been able to play in a single practice or game for football for the entire season. I had been sidelined because I was terrified that if I played the pain would only worsen. I had been surprised that my dad had let me stay on the team this long. That's when Anna started not to believe me. She thought I'd just been delusional and dramatic like a normal teenager, but the doctor just nodded and told me to continue.
While Dr. Graham did different tests on me, I sat there quietly and did what he told me to do obediently. He did a series of tests, using a wide range of medical and legal terminology that went far outside of my limited knowledge of only football and school terms. Only then did I realize that every movement I made with my left leg shot pain scuttling up into my hip and left side and waist. When a nurse came in with a clipboard and a gruesome and unpleasant look on her face, my life felt like it came crumpling and crashing in, leaving debris and broken pieces scattered everywhere, that only I knew I couldn't put together again, almost like Humpty Dumpty, only worse. Much, much, worse.
She quickly and quietly whispered the news and handed the clipboard over to him. She slipped out the door and shut it completely, leaving a deafening silence and tension in the room. Dr. Graham shifted uneasily and looked from the floor to me then to Anna and Gavin. Then glanced his eyes back down to the floor. I looked over towards Anna and Gavin and they weakly nodded towards me, but they couldn't have known what was going to happen. They wouldn't possibly have understood.
"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it seems that Mr. Adams here has osteosarcoma, a type of cancer in the bones", he said, with his voice shaking.
I still remember my heart dropping through my feet, feeling like it was plummeting to the center of the stupid planet. I sat there in stunned silence, with my mouth hanging wide open and my eyes beginning to water, until Anna had the courage to talk.
"Tell us about what we need to do about this type of cancer. What type of chemotherapy, what types of medications and he's an athlete. What sports-"
"Mrs. Anderson, I can kindly tell you everything you need to know. He'll have to start chemotherapy in a week. Pain medications will be proscribed. Absolutely no sports. No running, jumping, or tackling. You'll have to talk to your coach and tell him you cannot play until you have no evidence of cancer. It seems like it would be at minimal two years before you could possibly play agian."
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**Excuse me**
This is my first story about cancer. I know it's a little slow, but it'll pick up. I promise you.
Cookies and Gummies,
Mira
YOU ARE READING
Life, Liberty, and the Pursue of Cancer
Teen FictionWhen Micha Adams realizes he has osteosarcoma, a type of bone cancer, he decides to live life to the fullest. He meets Brooke Murretta and suddenly he can't seem to remember how boring his life was before.