Senoritis, Cars, and Five Seconds

4/9/19

Fall 1993

And then there was one! One more year of high school, and I was outta there! My senior year was memorable, exciting, and so much work.

My academic career up to this point had been a boatload of hard work; granted I hit a brick wall in eighth grade that could have sent me in a downward spiral. I had around 3 months of my eighth grade year where I was on chemotherapy, all of ninth grade, and around 2 months of tenth grade. The eighth grade teachers were gracious in my school work load; even though I finished every paper sent home, I missed that instruction time for about a month plus chemo days. There was a plan in ninth and tenth where we would leave school at the very last minute, miss a couple of classes and then the next day. Those afternoon classes suffered quite a bit my freshman year. But still the teachers were helpful and let me come after school for a refresher course if I had any questions.

The one thing that was a life saver for me was the fact I was unable to take the PE classes because of the broviac and the risk of having my chest hit by a ball. I was an aide for the office where I could work on school work after the office duties. Still there was a struggle with the missed instruction time in class. Especially Spanish! Hard work kept me at about a B average, and in 10th and 11th with more class time, more A’s appeared on my report card.

So the beloved senior year came around the corner with a lack of a “sluff off” “senioritis” type of entrance. I had a full load of classes including AP English, AP Calculus (for the second time), Geometry, and Girl’s Jazz Choir. I chose to take Calc again because a repeated class might result in a better grade which was a C my junior year. I was determined to work extra hard this year because there was only one chance to see an improvement in my grades and graduate with the best GPA I had seen on my report card up to this point. I was very much aware of a younger brother who spent substantially less hours working on homework and receiving substantially better grades every single time. What can I say, both our results came naturally, but I was determined to catch up. Last chance!

Along with senior year came my past medical history, so that was never far away from every day life. I walked into school in September with a gorgeous head of hair which was down to my shoulders, a repaired heart, and driver’s license. I was a July baby so I was literally the last person in my junior class to get a license; it was such a bummer. No really, big bummer. But I was now in the driving crowd and had the coolest car in the world, too. Well, since it was free from my parents, it was extremely cool. How many of us remember our first car? Um, most likely the majority of people we ask will remember. This car was a 1979 Chrysler New Yorker, 15 years old, and a classic. It had a leather interior, a trunk the size of a train car, and two full rows of seats. I quickly became the driver for off campus lunch!

A month after school started, I had my two-year follow-up visit in Salt Lake City. These visits were now enjoyable beyond words. I did not dread the road trip anymore. My mom and I went to this appointment and kind of planned to make it a day. Scan days are always a bit anxious, but we had only one scare in the past three and half years, and that was not even from my results, just an overheard conversation. That day, we had a CT scan, blood work, chest X-rays, and a cardiologist appointment. My heart looked really good, and, of course, I had not had any SVT episodes. My oncology results came back normal as well, and the doctor came in to have a discussion.

They were going to give me the “Cure” diagnosis. What does that mean? We had heard the word remission which means that the signs and symptoms of cancer are reduced, but does cure mean really cured? It means that there are no traces of cancer after treatment and that the cancer that type should never come back. Yes, it really means cured. I began with a cancerous tumor throughout my whole abdomen, three months later not a trace of any cancer cells, three and half years later… Mom and I were overjoyed. The doctor explained a few things to us about side effects of chemotherapy in the future. A very obvious side effect is infertility. Of the drugs given in my protocol, two were most likely to cause egg damage, and since a girl has all her eggs at birth, they can be highly effected by chemo. Ok, that was not really what I wanted to hear, but I accepted it, thinking in the back of my mind that I would be invincible from that just like I was when I was going through treatments. At 13, 14, and 15, cancer was just a nuisance, and I did not comprehend that what I had gone through was really life changing for me. Being older and hearing those words, put reality into perspective.

The doctors would like to see me each year as long as I was in the area to keep monitoring me and basically mark it down how I was doing with the side effects. We would continue those visits until we moved my senior year of college.

My mom and I were extremely excited for the diagnosis. Mom decided we would go get my senior pictures done while we were down there to celebrate this amazing news. We had spent so many, many seconds, that added up to minutes and cumulated into day’s worth of agony from hearing bad news. That can really get a person into a bad place emotionally. It can put someone into a thinking process that all hope is lost, that there is nothing worth pushing forward for. “You have cancer,” takes how long to say? Five seconds? And yet those five seconds mean more to some people in a lifetime than any other five seconds they will ever have. Changes our lives forever. So cliché, but it changes our lives forever. Other five seconds have words in them like: there was an accident… I have found someone else… it’s a boy… you may kiss your bride… Not all five seconds have a gut punch, but a rejoicing time, and they can change things for us dramatically.

Take five seconds today to say I love you or thanks for being there for me or have a great day. It may not be that one life changing five seconds that person will encounter in their years here on earth, but it may be added up with other five seconds that help them when they do. When faced with trials, a person needs hope. A God I know gives that hope. I had Him during my trial, and He is still holding me in His hand today. He gave me strength, power, and hope even though He knew about the cancer before I did. I want to live a life that remembers that often; I know I will not remember it every five seconds, but I pray that it will be often.

James 4:14 “Whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life? it is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.”

MY God healed MY body and gave me MY life back. It is MY duty to live it for Him, because I do not know about tomorrow.