Cancer and Me

Cancer. I hate to hear those dreaded words again. In my life, I’ve heard them a fair amount. When I was sixteen years old, I started working at Sunrise Day  Camp, a nonprofit camp for kids with cancer and their siblings. I stayed there three summers, working with the three year olds and the four year olds, watching them fight this insidious disease. We (all counselors) were required to wear hats so kids who were bald could wear them too and not feel self-conscious. On more than one occasion I kept a sick kid company in the pavilion while they watched Willie Wonka and snacked on saltines. I have lost campers along the way and it breaks my heart to watch them become weaker and weaker and then stop coming to camp altogether.

When cancer hit my family it was during Co-vid. I won’t say who to protect my family’s privacy but two people very close to me were diagnosed with cancer. I couldn’t see any of my friends for support lest I get sick myself and spread it to my family members. One of my family members got better and is in remission but the other passed away just as people were beginning to get the first Co-vid vaccine. Cancer runs in my family especially breast cancer. My dad carries the gene that makes you susceptible to it. A while ago, I was tested for the gene. Thankfully I don’t have it but other people in my family do.

I bring all this up because yesterday I found out another family member was diagnosed with breast cancer. My parents assure me it won’t be like last time because they caught it early and will treat it aggressively. It still makes me very anxious, like an elephant that returned to sit on my chest. Please, prayers for my family and everyone who suffers from this terrible disease.