It was a week of waking up extremely early so that my mother could get ready and then to get me ready as well (since I had no strength at this time), before we found a solution. A nurse mentioned to my mother to try staying in the Ronald McDonald house when I was in the hospital.
The Ronald McDonald houses, are the houses that they ask for donations in front of the cashiers at McDonald's. I never really put much thought into the connection between McDonald's and the houses but these houses are a godsend. They are full of the nicest people that always there and open to helping you out and making your need to go to the hospital all the time a pleasant one.
My mother and I stayed at Ronald McDonald house for about two months. They give you a room that has its own bathroom and TV. Sometimes we would just stay in the room all day watching TV. It was very useful in helping me recover. I was able to walk around the room, the floor we were on, lay in the living room that they had for the floor and even just chill on the porch in some wooden rocking chairs. I really loved my stay there and I'm very grateful that we got to stay there during my time with radiation.
The Ronald McDonald house is only a 2 min walk to the hospital. This made it very affordable and easy for my mother to just push my wheelchair to the cancer institute instead of spending so much gas to get to my appointments. Especially since I had radiation Monday through Friday, every day of the week. To me, the best thing was being able to go straight to sleep on a comfortable bed right after my sessions instead of dozing in a uncomfortable car for a while before getting home.
One of the best things, that my mother and I found, was that at 6PM every evening (besides weekends) there was always a volunteer group or organization that would donate dinner to the guests. Free food! Mind you, it was typically always spaghetti and meatballs, but it was free no less. Sometimes if you were lucky (and awake) you could even score some breakfast. We bought snacks for the times that they didn't provide food, but all the guests would share whatever they made with the whole house.
It was really nice. You could forget that you were there because of something at the hospital. Majority of the folks staying at the Ronald McDonald house were from out of town, who had a baby staying at Florida Hospital because of a special condition or because it was born maximum 6 months prematurely. We met a mother who had been staying at the house for 4 months before we got there. Her baby was born 4 months prematurely and had to remain in the hospital until she was fit to leave. She left two days before we did.
The staff also love to help you better your time there by offering free stuff. I went to Seaworld with my mother, nephews, sister, and my sister's mother-in-law for free. I also got to go to an Orlando Magic basketball game, twice. The first time with just my mother and the second with my father. My father is a big Magic, (even though they suck) and he really enjoyed watching the game. They lost both times I went, but the fact that I was at the game for free made my night.
The supremely best thing about the Ronald McDonald house is that its essentially free to stay! Yes, they would prefer if you could make at least a $15 donation per every day that you stay, which is paid when you leave, but they understand that most families can't afford it and they take any donation that you can offer. Most of the time this being nothing. But its all good! They totally understand and they don't treat you any differently.
The Ronald McDonald house was the first place that I started walking without my wheelchair. It was also the first place that I shaved my head. I had already cut my hair short because the place where one of the surgeries was perform was cut close to my head, so I tried making it even. This time it was because my hair was starting to fall out. At first I would wake up with hair all over my pillow which bothered my nose. So I cut it really short. It was similar to Halle Berry. Then one day I went to wash my hair and when I pulled my hand back to wash off the shampoo, it was filled with hair. At this I just told my mom to shave it all off. It was just easier to have no hair. I get easily disgusted by hair in the bath and it bothers me when hair is on my face. To not deal with this anymore I decided to just get rid of it completely.
It didn't bother me to not have hair anymore. Some people can't handle it. I think they're pathetic. Hair is not that important. I would laugh at all the girls that cried during makeover on America's Next Top Model. I personally have dyed and cut my hair millions of time. Hair is what you make of it. I liked my hair, but I hated feeling it on my face when I woke up more. I think it affected my mother more than it affected me. I just kept thinking that I was the next Amber Rose.
People asked me if I wanted a wig, and honestly I never thought of one. I used to cosplay, so I know all about wigs, and they can get really annoying. Besides, I kinda don't want hair. I think I look fine the way I am. Don't get me wrong, there are times that I think my outfit would look better if I had some type of hair-do but majority of the time I'm OK with not having hair. I'm told I have a nicely shaped head.
Our time at Ronald McDonald was about to end. We had received some money from my aunt and we donated it to the house. The staff were so happy, but thought that we had given too much. Honestly, $200 is not enough for what they provided. We even got the two main office girls gift cards to Chili's. They were so sweet and helped us a lot when we were staying there.
Now, I had always prayed that we would leave the Ronald McDonald house into our new home, but that wasn't the case. We still had some days before finding our new home.
And find it we did.
(The next time you go to McDonald's please, please, please, put any spare change in the donation boxes for the Ronald McDonald house! They really help! Also for all you runners out there, they have a 5k event called Color Me Rad. My sister's friend did it for me and all the entrance fees go towards the Ronald McDonald house foundation! Its really cool so check it out!)
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Holidays
It was clear to my mother the moment that we arrived, that we needed to find our own place to stay. Soon. Not only was it uncomfortable with two people stuck in a room, but my doctor appointment was in Orlando. Orlando is a 45 minute drive from my side of Kissimmee. These rides sucked. My first appointment with my doctor involved of lot of sitting up that I did not want to do, but did cause they needed to do their assessment on my. I remembered being in my wheelchair (cause I was prescribed one before I left the hospital) with a pillow cause it just sucked to hold my head up myself.
The doctors were all very kind. I don't remember much of their names mainly cause there was 9 doctors there. Each a different kind of neuro (brain) doctor. There was one that was a neuro surgeon and he looked at my stitches to make sure they were nice and in order. There was three neuro psychologists to determine how my feelings and emotions would change after surgery. There were other doctors that didn't step up so I don't really know what they were there for, and finally there was my primary oncologist (cancer doctor), Dr. Fouad Hajjar. He's awesome.
There was all these other paperwork and another social worker to fill and talk to , but I went back to my wheelchair and dozed off. I had no control of my energy at the time so I didn't really do much during the first two months.
It seemed that this was the beginning of my new life. Everything was getting settled. Except one major fact.
We didn't have a home.
Yeah sure, we had my mom's place at her friend's house, but he was planning to move out with his girlfriend in January. It was mid-December at this point and we needed to find a place soon. We looked all over Craigslist trying to find a house or another apartment to rent, but most were in fuckville Poinciana in the middle of nowhere or too pricey for such a small space.
During the search, Christmas and New Years past by us. We celebrated both at the houses of my mother's friends. Christmas day was spent at my sisters for a little bit, I hanged out (to the best of my ability) with my two nephews (one 9 years old, the other 5) and then we went to my mother's friends house to spend with their family. I was mainly asleep in the room that they let me lay in this whole time. Its boring, but I couldn't help it. New Year's evening was again at another of my mom's friend's house. I was in my wheelchair and since it was night time I had taken a nap beforehand so I got to stay awake for most of the activities.
Maybe it was the fact that it was finally hitting me that my life would be different for upcoming new year, but when that clock hit 12:00AM, I just started bawling. I just couldn't believe that this was happening to me. Like it never crossed my mind that I would be in a situation like this. I knew my aunt recently died of throat cancer, but I chalked that up to the fact that her husband smoked a lot. But this was really happening, and I didn't know where it was going to lead me. All my plans for after graduation were completely ruined. There was no possible way of going to Japan. It had been my one and only lifelong dream to go to Japan and to be an interpreter of some kind, living in that country. And now that wasn't an option anymore. I never asked God, "Why?" but at that moment the one thing I could think of was "Why now?". Why did this happened to me right before I was supposed to finish my last semester and graduate? WHY?!
My mother hugged me in my wheelchair and I could feel her tears on my shoulder. I'm sure she was thinking the same things. Wondering what the future of her baby girl was gonna be now. Wondering if she could keep the strength she was showing to me strong even though she wanted to just crumble under the pressure. My mother is a very strong woman, who has faced some incredible odds that I don't know how she acts like they don't affect her sometimes. I have seen my mother cry, but its so rare. She's just too strong to let shit pulled her down, and I admire that soo much about her. I want this experience to give me that same strength, for this is hard and I know cancer is genetic and I pray to God that my children don't experience it, but if that is to be in my path than I wan this to make me strong for it.
(I need a moment)
Anyways, we still hadn't found a place when my radiation sessions started this January. Now it really sucked to live at my mom's friend's place. I was supposed to have radiation Monday thru Friday, every week for six weeks and then a month break before I would have my chemo sessions until next March 2014.
My appointments were so early that we would have to wake up at 6:00AM to get ready (since I was slow paced and needed help from my mother) and then drive to the cancer institute at the hospital. Every damn day. I hated it. My only benefit was that I was the youngest patient at the radiation appointments, and that I could lay on my stomach and catch some Z's since my radiation covered my head, upper and lower back, which made it take 1-1 1/2 hours. But this was not easy on my mom's wallet. With gas prices being so high my mom would have to fill up halfway into the week. But then a solution was presented to us by one of my nurses.
The Ronald McDonald House.
The doctors were all very kind. I don't remember much of their names mainly cause there was 9 doctors there. Each a different kind of neuro (brain) doctor. There was one that was a neuro surgeon and he looked at my stitches to make sure they were nice and in order. There was three neuro psychologists to determine how my feelings and emotions would change after surgery. There were other doctors that didn't step up so I don't really know what they were there for, and finally there was my primary oncologist (cancer doctor), Dr. Fouad Hajjar. He's awesome.
There was all these other paperwork and another social worker to fill and talk to , but I went back to my wheelchair and dozed off. I had no control of my energy at the time so I didn't really do much during the first two months.
It seemed that this was the beginning of my new life. Everything was getting settled. Except one major fact.
We didn't have a home.
Yeah sure, we had my mom's place at her friend's house, but he was planning to move out with his girlfriend in January. It was mid-December at this point and we needed to find a place soon. We looked all over Craigslist trying to find a house or another apartment to rent, but most were in fuckville Poinciana in the middle of nowhere or too pricey for such a small space.
During the search, Christmas and New Years past by us. We celebrated both at the houses of my mother's friends. Christmas day was spent at my sisters for a little bit, I hanged out (to the best of my ability) with my two nephews (one 9 years old, the other 5) and then we went to my mother's friends house to spend with their family. I was mainly asleep in the room that they let me lay in this whole time. Its boring, but I couldn't help it. New Year's evening was again at another of my mom's friend's house. I was in my wheelchair and since it was night time I had taken a nap beforehand so I got to stay awake for most of the activities.
Maybe it was the fact that it was finally hitting me that my life would be different for upcoming new year, but when that clock hit 12:00AM, I just started bawling. I just couldn't believe that this was happening to me. Like it never crossed my mind that I would be in a situation like this. I knew my aunt recently died of throat cancer, but I chalked that up to the fact that her husband smoked a lot. But this was really happening, and I didn't know where it was going to lead me. All my plans for after graduation were completely ruined. There was no possible way of going to Japan. It had been my one and only lifelong dream to go to Japan and to be an interpreter of some kind, living in that country. And now that wasn't an option anymore. I never asked God, "Why?" but at that moment the one thing I could think of was "Why now?". Why did this happened to me right before I was supposed to finish my last semester and graduate? WHY?!
My mother hugged me in my wheelchair and I could feel her tears on my shoulder. I'm sure she was thinking the same things. Wondering what the future of her baby girl was gonna be now. Wondering if she could keep the strength she was showing to me strong even though she wanted to just crumble under the pressure. My mother is a very strong woman, who has faced some incredible odds that I don't know how she acts like they don't affect her sometimes. I have seen my mother cry, but its so rare. She's just too strong to let shit pulled her down, and I admire that soo much about her. I want this experience to give me that same strength, for this is hard and I know cancer is genetic and I pray to God that my children don't experience it, but if that is to be in my path than I wan this to make me strong for it.
(I need a moment)
Anyways, we still hadn't found a place when my radiation sessions started this January. Now it really sucked to live at my mom's friend's place. I was supposed to have radiation Monday thru Friday, every week for six weeks and then a month break before I would have my chemo sessions until next March 2014.
My appointments were so early that we would have to wake up at 6:00AM to get ready (since I was slow paced and needed help from my mother) and then drive to the cancer institute at the hospital. Every damn day. I hated it. My only benefit was that I was the youngest patient at the radiation appointments, and that I could lay on my stomach and catch some Z's since my radiation covered my head, upper and lower back, which made it take 1-1 1/2 hours. But this was not easy on my mom's wallet. With gas prices being so high my mom would have to fill up halfway into the week. But then a solution was presented to us by one of my nurses.
The Ronald McDonald House.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Reaction
Maybe it was because I was still feeling pretty doped up that I didn't have much of a reaction when I heard the news that my tumor had cancer. It just didn't really click with what I was going through. I passed out after the doctor told my mother. I really don't remember being conscience for very long in the hospital until three days before I was about to leave. And still, I thought nothing of the fact that it had cancer. I just thought, "Hey, at least its out and gone now."
I really didn't know what to think of it and so I didn't. I just felt so tired all the time. Every time they tried to make me walk, I hated it. My brain wasn't settled yet from the surgery so it hurt every time I moved from laying down to standing up. It felt like my neck wouldn't want to hold my head up sometimes. Especially when I still had the drainage connected. With the drainage there was a lot of tubes and a bag full of the spinal fluid attached to my head. It felt like an extra five pounds sitting up with that thing.
I honestly can say that being in that hospital at that time was probably the worst I have ever felt in my life. I think I tried to get up and get away, they stopped me of course, and I realized I was still in the hospital, but in my mind I felt like I was in some strange room where I wasn't supposed to be and it was not in the hospital but in my nurse's house. Strange, huh. But imagine that was your reality half the time that you weren't awake and it changed constantly. I'm surprised now that I could even answer their questions right when they were trying to check on my memory after operation.
Because, for those who don't really know much about surgeries, there's always a risk to every surgery, but brain surgery is the worst. Your brain controls the body so when you fuck with it, dangerous things can happen. So that some of you can understand why my doctors are very proud of me, I will tell you some of the possible effects of having brain surgery.
I will probably: not being able to talk, not being able to walk, not be able to remember to write, not be able to read, not be able to coordinate my hands, and finally I might just die from the surgery.
Jesus.
This is what they told my mother while I was "asleep" before the surgery took place. How can they say that?! I know they are trying to prepare her for the worst, but no mother wants to hear that their baby might end up like a baby again or worse just die! Doctors are so fucking cruel! I could never be a doctor. I couldn't put down hope like that. I care too much and those situations are the worst to be in.
The last three days were full of my doctor and therapist arguing over whether I was ready to leave the hospital. I had lost balance in my legs and so my therapist wanted me to walk a little bit better before sending me out into the world, but she also wanted me to enter the rehab center in Gainesville nearby instead of just discharging me to my house. My doctor didn't think I needed rehab, for whatever reason and I was discharge to go home. For this all I remember was that I had an appointment with an oncologist in Orlando for my chemo and radiation and that I slept the whole way home. Gainesville is only two hours away from my home so it wasn't a long trip but I just felt so exhausted.
Now, while I was in Tallahassee getting my degree at FSU, my mother (and indirectly so did I) had a lot of financial issues. She had gotten into a motorcycle accident and she couldn't work for about two months. This fucked shit up for her financial needs. It ended up with her having to be her friend's roommate while she saved up money to get her own place eventually. Now, admittedly, I probably didn't help with that endeavor since I still rely on my mother even though I live on my own in Tallahassee and I would always ask her for money and help with my own financial needs.
So when I returned "home", I returned to my mother's room at her friends place. Now for my mother this situation is helping her out, but for me, this situation is not the greatest. My mother just had a room and in order to not bother her roommate and his girlfriend, I didn't leave the room at all. Not that I had the energy to do so.
Even though I was back home I didn't really have the comforts of home at hand. But until my mother could find another place this is what we had.
This was gonna be tough.
I really didn't know what to think of it and so I didn't. I just felt so tired all the time. Every time they tried to make me walk, I hated it. My brain wasn't settled yet from the surgery so it hurt every time I moved from laying down to standing up. It felt like my neck wouldn't want to hold my head up sometimes. Especially when I still had the drainage connected. With the drainage there was a lot of tubes and a bag full of the spinal fluid attached to my head. It felt like an extra five pounds sitting up with that thing.
I honestly can say that being in that hospital at that time was probably the worst I have ever felt in my life. I think I tried to get up and get away, they stopped me of course, and I realized I was still in the hospital, but in my mind I felt like I was in some strange room where I wasn't supposed to be and it was not in the hospital but in my nurse's house. Strange, huh. But imagine that was your reality half the time that you weren't awake and it changed constantly. I'm surprised now that I could even answer their questions right when they were trying to check on my memory after operation.
Because, for those who don't really know much about surgeries, there's always a risk to every surgery, but brain surgery is the worst. Your brain controls the body so when you fuck with it, dangerous things can happen. So that some of you can understand why my doctors are very proud of me, I will tell you some of the possible effects of having brain surgery.
I will probably: not being able to talk, not being able to walk, not be able to remember to write, not be able to read, not be able to coordinate my hands, and finally I might just die from the surgery.
Jesus.
This is what they told my mother while I was "asleep" before the surgery took place. How can they say that?! I know they are trying to prepare her for the worst, but no mother wants to hear that their baby might end up like a baby again or worse just die! Doctors are so fucking cruel! I could never be a doctor. I couldn't put down hope like that. I care too much and those situations are the worst to be in.
The last three days were full of my doctor and therapist arguing over whether I was ready to leave the hospital. I had lost balance in my legs and so my therapist wanted me to walk a little bit better before sending me out into the world, but she also wanted me to enter the rehab center in Gainesville nearby instead of just discharging me to my house. My doctor didn't think I needed rehab, for whatever reason and I was discharge to go home. For this all I remember was that I had an appointment with an oncologist in Orlando for my chemo and radiation and that I slept the whole way home. Gainesville is only two hours away from my home so it wasn't a long trip but I just felt so exhausted.
Now, while I was in Tallahassee getting my degree at FSU, my mother (and indirectly so did I) had a lot of financial issues. She had gotten into a motorcycle accident and she couldn't work for about two months. This fucked shit up for her financial needs. It ended up with her having to be her friend's roommate while she saved up money to get her own place eventually. Now, admittedly, I probably didn't help with that endeavor since I still rely on my mother even though I live on my own in Tallahassee and I would always ask her for money and help with my own financial needs.
So when I returned "home", I returned to my mother's room at her friends place. Now for my mother this situation is helping her out, but for me, this situation is not the greatest. My mother just had a room and in order to not bother her roommate and his girlfriend, I didn't leave the room at all. Not that I had the energy to do so.
Even though I was back home I didn't really have the comforts of home at hand. But until my mother could find another place this is what we had.
This was gonna be tough.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Medullablastoma
If you didn't know; in November 28, 2012, I went to the ER for having extremely bad headaches. they were so bad that I would literally throw up whenever I got them or just stay on bed because I couldn't move. I was supposed to go to the school clinic for an appointment with the head doctor, but I felt waay to horrible to even stand. Thank God I had my good friend, Anna, taking me to my appointment anyways. I don't remember if I told her or if she forced me, but we ended up going to the ER straight away instead.
It was kinda funny when I think back on my visit, cause Anna just took me straight to the ER, and I didn't have any time to change into proper clothes, or even get shoes! But it didn't matter anyways, I was put into a bed and then they decided to give me a CT Scan. That's a machine that they lay you down in and it scans your head, giving x-rays back to the doctors. I was fine in the scan. My headache was gone at this point, so I was just chilling, feeling like I was in an episode of House. They rolled me back to the ER and took their time reading their results. I didn't have time to grab my phone so at this point I had asked Anna to go get it, since I had my keys with me. Also to go get my a burger from McDonalds. I was starved. I hadn't breakfast since I was throwing up all freakin' day.
The doctors came back while she was gone and told me the one thing I didn't want to hear. They said that they found a mass in my CT Scan, but to make sure it wasn't some defect of the equipment, they wanted me to get a MRI as well. Its the same thing but stronger at detecting things, I guess. I still don't know the difference til this day. Did the MRI, same thing. I still had the mass showing up. Basically, the doctors told me that I had a tumor. Now, I didn't have much reaction to this whole thing until now, but I knew that typically tumors meant cancer. At the time I didn't think cancer, cause I knew there were non-cancerous tumors out there, so I didn't panic. I just said, "OK",
They admitted me in the hospital. I don't know why. Maybe they told me, maybe they didn't. Anna had to find me since I didn't have a phone to tell her that I had moved. I told her what they found and had my burger. She later left with another friend of mine that evening. My big in the Vietnamese association at school came to see me at night with some other of my friends, I was happy to see them. This whole thing was making a turn and I didn't know where it was going. At this point I had my phone again, so I could call my mother. I had called her with the phone of a admittance person to tell her the news, but this time was to tell her that they were admitting me into the hospital. She was hysteric. I feel bad for her. No one wants to hear that their child is in the hospital with a tumor. She was planning to come up and visit me the next day early in the morning.
Since I was studying at Florida State, I was in the hospital in Tallahassee. I from Kissimmee, a town near Orlando. Its an four hour drive up from Kissimmee to Tallahassee. So, I wasn't expecting my mom any time soon. The next morning I had told my sorority friends of my situation. My line sisters, roommate, and another sorority sister came to see me once they were out of class. My mom made it just behind them, and good thing. I was told earlier that I were to have a surgery to get the tumor out, but I was to go to Gainesville (Gator country, eww!) in order to have the operation. My mom made it just in time before they sent me by ambulance to Gainesville, where she followed closely.
I was checked into my room in the pediatric ICU. As I was not 21 yet, I still fell under pediatrics. Its dumb I know, but at least they're nicer. The next day I was to have my surgery.
Now, everything gets confusing. I'm not gonna write about my experience there cause one, I don't really remember cause of the morphine, and two, I dreamt and saw some crazy shit. I don't know why I had these (I don't know what else to call it) illusions, but they were pretty damn vivid and tripped me out. My mother told me that I was in that hospital for two weeks. I only remember the last three days and the first day. The only things I can remember while being there were this: it was the year 2012. Obama was president, my sister's birthday was coming up on the fourth, my godmother came, my boyfriend(at the time) came, my dad was there for a while, my sister picked up my dog from Tallahassee, and I had three surgeries in my time there. One, to take out the tumor, one, to drain the spinal fluid and one to seal up the drainage to make a VP shunt, and that all my nurses, doctors, surgeons, were booing the fact that I'm a Seminole. That's it. Seems a lot, but my mom tells me otherwise.
When I was conscience I didn't want to put too much info on what was happening to me. I have a lot of friends on Facebook that are really just acquaintances, or family members I don't really talk to, or just old high school friends that I really don't talk to. I mainly told my close friends and sorority sisters what was happening....to the best of my ability. While I was in my dazed state, I actually heard the doctor tell my mother that the surgery was success, however after they got the results of the tumor from the lab it turned out that my tumor had stage 1 cancer. A cancer called medullablastoma. A cancer that is typically found in children ages 3-8 years old. There is an one in one thousand chance for a person of my age (20 years old) to get this cancer.
Well fuck.
It was kinda funny when I think back on my visit, cause Anna just took me straight to the ER, and I didn't have any time to change into proper clothes, or even get shoes! But it didn't matter anyways, I was put into a bed and then they decided to give me a CT Scan. That's a machine that they lay you down in and it scans your head, giving x-rays back to the doctors. I was fine in the scan. My headache was gone at this point, so I was just chilling, feeling like I was in an episode of House. They rolled me back to the ER and took their time reading their results. I didn't have time to grab my phone so at this point I had asked Anna to go get it, since I had my keys with me. Also to go get my a burger from McDonalds. I was starved. I hadn't breakfast since I was throwing up all freakin' day.
The doctors came back while she was gone and told me the one thing I didn't want to hear. They said that they found a mass in my CT Scan, but to make sure it wasn't some defect of the equipment, they wanted me to get a MRI as well. Its the same thing but stronger at detecting things, I guess. I still don't know the difference til this day. Did the MRI, same thing. I still had the mass showing up. Basically, the doctors told me that I had a tumor. Now, I didn't have much reaction to this whole thing until now, but I knew that typically tumors meant cancer. At the time I didn't think cancer, cause I knew there were non-cancerous tumors out there, so I didn't panic. I just said, "OK",
They admitted me in the hospital. I don't know why. Maybe they told me, maybe they didn't. Anna had to find me since I didn't have a phone to tell her that I had moved. I told her what they found and had my burger. She later left with another friend of mine that evening. My big in the Vietnamese association at school came to see me at night with some other of my friends, I was happy to see them. This whole thing was making a turn and I didn't know where it was going. At this point I had my phone again, so I could call my mother. I had called her with the phone of a admittance person to tell her the news, but this time was to tell her that they were admitting me into the hospital. She was hysteric. I feel bad for her. No one wants to hear that their child is in the hospital with a tumor. She was planning to come up and visit me the next day early in the morning.
Since I was studying at Florida State, I was in the hospital in Tallahassee. I from Kissimmee, a town near Orlando. Its an four hour drive up from Kissimmee to Tallahassee. So, I wasn't expecting my mom any time soon. The next morning I had told my sorority friends of my situation. My line sisters, roommate, and another sorority sister came to see me once they were out of class. My mom made it just behind them, and good thing. I was told earlier that I were to have a surgery to get the tumor out, but I was to go to Gainesville (Gator country, eww!) in order to have the operation. My mom made it just in time before they sent me by ambulance to Gainesville, where she followed closely.
I was checked into my room in the pediatric ICU. As I was not 21 yet, I still fell under pediatrics. Its dumb I know, but at least they're nicer. The next day I was to have my surgery.
Now, everything gets confusing. I'm not gonna write about my experience there cause one, I don't really remember cause of the morphine, and two, I dreamt and saw some crazy shit. I don't know why I had these (I don't know what else to call it) illusions, but they were pretty damn vivid and tripped me out. My mother told me that I was in that hospital for two weeks. I only remember the last three days and the first day. The only things I can remember while being there were this: it was the year 2012. Obama was president, my sister's birthday was coming up on the fourth, my godmother came, my boyfriend(at the time) came, my dad was there for a while, my sister picked up my dog from Tallahassee, and I had three surgeries in my time there. One, to take out the tumor, one, to drain the spinal fluid and one to seal up the drainage to make a VP shunt, and that all my nurses, doctors, surgeons, were booing the fact that I'm a Seminole. That's it. Seems a lot, but my mom tells me otherwise.
When I was conscience I didn't want to put too much info on what was happening to me. I have a lot of friends on Facebook that are really just acquaintances, or family members I don't really talk to, or just old high school friends that I really don't talk to. I mainly told my close friends and sorority sisters what was happening....to the best of my ability. While I was in my dazed state, I actually heard the doctor tell my mother that the surgery was success, however after they got the results of the tumor from the lab it turned out that my tumor had stage 1 cancer. A cancer called medullablastoma. A cancer that is typically found in children ages 3-8 years old. There is an one in one thousand chance for a person of my age (20 years old) to get this cancer.
Well fuck.
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