Imagine feeling like you have your whole life before you only to find out you are about to face your second bout with leukemia. You are finally entering middle school, making plans for the future, eyeing the cute guys, talking about next week’s game, and then the news comes . . . your cancer may have returned.

My first encounter with the disease came when I was in first grade. I became tired all the time and never felt like playing with the other children. Sitting on the teacher’s lap or resting were the highlights of my recess. Then one day my temperature shot up, and the teacher contacted my parents who took me to the doctor immediately. Blood results revealed the diagnosis—acute lymphocitic leukemia. I started chemotherapy treatments that lasted for the next two-and-a-half years. Following that, I stayed in remission for almost three years. But then I relapsed at the start of my sixth-grade year.


This time was more difficult because I was older. I knew more of what to expect. I thought about my future, and I didn’t want to die. I had peers who would make fun of me once they learned I had cancer. I am not sure they understood the seriousness of my disease, but their taunts added to my pain.

I started another series of chemotherapy treatments. My family and I were at a turning point with the disease. We had to decide if I would have a bone-marrow transplant or continue the treatment method I was presently receiving. I was fearful of having the transplant because I had known other patients who did not make it after their transplant. But it also helped some people get better. The deciding factor for me was when we found out my three-year-old brother was a perfect match.

I still had concerns because I consider my little brother “my miracle” from God, and I didn’t want him to suffer. One day, while my brother was watching one of his favorite programs, I asked him if he would like to be a hero. He asked me, “Do you mean like Superman?” and I told him “even more than Superman.” I explained to him that he would be saving his sissy’s life, but it would require him to go through some pain and give lots of blood. At first, he told me, “No, I don’t want to do that,” so I was not going to press the issue with him. He turned back and started watching the television, but then about five minutes later, he turned and looked at me and said, “Sissy, I don’t want to hurt, but if it will save your life, I will do it.” Not only is he my miracle, he is my hero.

I left for the hospital and began preparations for my transplant the following day. I started with two weeks of testing to make sure I was in physical shape to begin the process followed by two weeks of radiation. Then, my brother and I went into surgery. Though it was tough for him, he responded very well and was out of the hospital soon. I stayed in the hospital for two months and then had to stay close by to make visits to the clinic daily, then every other day until finally decreasing to once a week. This routine lasted for the next six months. At one point, it appeared I was relapsing because my white cells were not growing. I was required to take extra precautions like wearing a mask more often, staying out of public places, and—the hardest for me—not being able to have many visitors. My outings were limited to the apartment we were renting, the clinic, or a ride in our vehicle.

After six months, I was finally able to go home. I was welcomed by a parade of friends, family, and neighbors. It was such an exciting day for me and my family to finally be at home together. After the nine-month mark, I was able to do limited activities. Finally, after one year, my doctor allowed me to go out in public places. I still have certain limitations and will for some time to come. Doctor’s visits are still a part of my life and will be for the next six years.

As you can tell, I have been through a lot, but I have never been upset or angry with God about my situation. I never wondered, “Why me?” but I did initially question what God’s purpose was in all of this. Now I think I know. God has shown me that He is still in the miracle business, and He has allowed me to use my situation to witness to others about my faith and to minister to those who might be experiencing similar situations.

A verse that God gave me through this ordeal is John 11:4, which says, “This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.” I truly want God glorified in my life. My favorite saying is “Keep your faith in God, and He will get you through it. He never leaves your side.” My trust and faith in God have been my blanket of security through this experience and will continue to be what I cling to for my future.

© 2007 from Chicken Soup for the Soul Teens Talkin’ Faith

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