Hello everyone! I want to give y'all a life update that I've been holding onto until the right moment to reveal. For certain reasons that I will explain shortly, I feel that now is a good time to let you know about how my life has been going.
On August 10th, I returned home from my 12 week internship with Stryker Orthopaedics in New Jersey. I want to say I took away a great learning experience and forged invaluable relationships with people this summer, and while I did do that, I also took something else away from my time in NJ; a great big serving of cancer lol. That's right folks; just 2 days later I was sitting in Baylor Scott & White hospital in Grapevine, TX grappling with the fact that I did not, in fact, have Lyme disease from hiking in Pennsylvania, but rather Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia that would require an aggressive pediatric protocol to treat, would cause me to lose my hair and significant musculature, and would require me to miss one of the formative semesters of my college experience at Duke.
But what truly jarred me wasn't any of these things; rather, it was the fact that I would have to spend the next month confined to a hospital room, receiving painful chemotherapy drugs that would compromise my immune system, make me nauseous and tired, and make my body incredibly fragile from a lack of an ability to clot blood. During the first 2 weeks of my time in the University of Oklahoma Health Sciences Center hospital, I maybe went outside for a total of 1 hour.
I won't lie; I cried more than I had since I was a toddler. I had anxiety attacks so bad I was physically convulsing for days, unable to sit still or walk anywhere. I underwent a 2 hour MRI to ensure there was no leukemia in my spine, during which I thought I was going crazy from lying still so long. I had a stomach pain event so bad, I actually fainted for the first time in my life after multiple doses of morphine, oxycodone and dilaudid didn't work. The after effects of that pain event were devastating, as I lost complete feeling in the left side of my abdomen (it still hasn't completely come back), my stomach became so distended for the next month that I looked pregnant (that was pretty funny, I'll admit), and I began taking Oxy so often I may have developed some kind of mini-addiction (don't tell my parents).
On September 10th, the doctors informed me that my platelets were finally starting to come up on their own, and my immune system was back to normal function, and just like that, I got kicked out of the hospital and went home. The first thing I did when I got home was drink a glass of tap water, something I hadn't been allowed to do since August 10th. It tasted ok, but the small hint of freedom in it was better than any Mio flavoring I had been using in the hospital (oof that was cringy wasn't it?). A few days later, my oncologist performed a bone marrow biopsy and 2 weeks later, I found out that I was indeed in remission, with a status of MRD negative and 0.0% detectable cancerous blast cells. I was pretty frustrated however, when he told me I would still need to continue this 2.5 year protocol, as cancer cells can be undetectable and must be accounted for.
Over the next few months, I have been continuing treatment, but it hasn't been nearly as bad, since it's only a few days at a time in the hospital and I know how to prep for chemotherapy now. I write this Facebook post for a multitude of reasons; I recently found out I was reaccepted to Duke for the Spring semester, and will be allowed to walk with my class during graduation, and after a second bone marrow biopsy, my remission and MRD status have been confirmed.
I'm not going to sit here and say I've changed a whole lot after this semester abroad in the cancer ward. However, I do want to address some things that I've realized.
I’ll never be able to thank my parents and brothers for their help over the last few months. Although it was in the worst way imaginable, I still got to spend a lot of time with my parents during a time in my life when people don’t really get that opportunity. I realized that a parent’s love for a child is truly one-sided, as I can’t say I would do all the things for my parents that they did for me over the last few months, and continue to do currently. Trust me, some of those things were gross and not fun; please don’t ask me about it. I especially am rattled when I think of some of the things my mom would do to ensure my mental health was preserved during treatment. Whether it was taking me for drives around OKC when I felt trapped in my bed, buying my favorite foods and adjusting her cooking in anyway to get me to eat, taking me for impromptu trips to Duke and Dallas to see friends and relatives, or just sleeping in the same bed as me at night so if I had a late night sad boy moment, she could be there to dispel any concerns, my mom has made me realize that I will truly never be able to repay her for what she’s done, not only now, but throughout my life. A mother’s love for her son is unmatched by anything (even her own son’s love). I truly don’t think I could buy her enough jewelry or shoes or nice things-not that she’d wear them anyway- to put us on equal footing. I love you mommy.
Some other things I’ve realized. I love food. Chalk that up to my sense of taste coming back. Sleep is truly amazing when it happens. As they say, nothing good happens after 10pm. I’ve started buying and doing things that I enjoy rather than listening to what’s in or not. I’ve become steadfast in my career goal to do something impactful and memorable, rather than doing something for monetary wealth. Strange for a Duke student to think that.
Pity is also surprisingly great. Until it isn’t. Yeah sure, it’s cool when people let you cut to the front of the line at Panera or let you sit when everyone else is working, but it comes with a heavy price. People start believing you’re worse off than you really are, and begin to doubt your capabilities. In the beginning , I took the pity because I truly needed it. Then my parents and friends started preventing me from doing things, or changing plans out of fear for me, and I realized I needed to snap out of my funk. Yes there are things I shouldn’t be doing, but I need to make that decision for myself, and that means taking on the less fun responsibilities too.
These next 2 years are going to be tough, and I’ll be compromising a lot of my comfort to ensure a full recovery. But I’m confident that I’m going to beat this disease. No, I’m going to kick its ass. I’m not going to get in trouble with future employers for saying ass on Facebook, right? I don’t tell people I have cancer anymore; instead, I say I’m undergoing chemotherapy, because that’s the truth. As far as anyone can tell, I don’t have cancer anymore, but I still gotta take these drugs.
Anyways, this was a long post that most of you probably didn’t read fully. I don’t know how to end this, so in the words of famous rapper/singer Drake, “If I was at the club you know I’m bald (balled?), chemo.”