Welcome to Gaia! ::

(I'd just like to state that everything you are about to read is 100% true)



Many people may think that their lives are hard. Some people may think that the world will end just because they have a zit, or so-and-so hadn’t asked them out. Whenever I hear people complain over the stupidest things like this, I just want to slap them over the head, and tell them to shut the hell up. My life has been rough. When I was about nine my father died from lung cancer. That event in my life changed me. It also had a bigger affect on me when I got older. Try having your father, or another member of you family die from a life threatening disease, and then about 5 or 6 years later finding out you had the same or similar disease.

I should probably start a little closer to the beginning. Looking back on it now I’d say it probably started back in the 8th grade. I started to have a rougher time keeping up with people in gym class, I had just thought I was getting out of shape. I also got cold really easily. Then that summer when my family and I were hiking in New Hampshire. I had a really hard time keeping up. My hands were cold, and my fingernails were almost purple, and I got out of breathe fast. When my mom took me to the doctors they found out I was anemic, so they gave me some iron supplements and told me to come back in about a month for some more blood tests.

So a month later, I went back for more tests. My doctor though since I was going to have to come back for my yearly check up a week or two later he thought that we should do it while I was there. When he checked my breathing he thought something sounded wrong. He sent me to Children’s in Waltham for a x-ray. They told me there was some sort of mass in my chest and some kind liquid around my lungs. They weren’t sure of what it was, so they sent me to Children’s in Lexington for a CAT scan. That scan showed the same thing as the x-ray. Then sent me to Children’s Hospital in Boston for a night of observation.

Two days later, with a lot of tests done, they told me that I was diagnosed with a type of cancer called Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. When they told me the first thought that came to my mind was “Holy crap, I’m going to lose my hair!” I later found out that, that was one of the two most common first reactions that cancer patients my age think of. My second was “I’m gonna die!” The doctors told me that Hodgkin’s was a common cancer found in young adults and was very easily cured, so the chances of me dying were very slim to none.

After two weeks in the hospital, I was sent home, and let me just say those two weeks were the longest of my life, and my friends and family really helped me get through it. Almost everyday one of my friends or family members came to visit me. Many of my friends drew me a two foot get well card, and drew me several other pictures, all of which I have made into a small book, and have on my shelf to this day.

Once I was out of the hospital I had to go to the Jimmy Fund Clinic once a week for chemotherapy for about three months. During that time I made a lot of close friends with the other patients. While being a Jimmy kid (a Jimmy Fund patient) I did have some pretty good times. Once a year the Jimmy Fund takes the teenagers to Fort Myers in Florida for one weekend, for a Red Sox Spring Training game.

That weekend was one I will remember forever. We stayed Friday night and went to the game Saturday morning. Friday we hung around the hotel for most of the time, I played several games of Uno with my fellow patients, one of them really seemed to like annoying me, because whenever it was his turn he would put down a ‘skip’ or ‘draw two.’ To get even I would do the same thing whenever someone put down a ‘reverse.’ That night we all gathered in one persons room and just sat down and told our stories to one another. Telling how we were diagnosed, what they think lead up to it, and some just plain funny times we’ve been through because of it. One thing a friend of mine had mentioned really stuck to me. He said “We’ve got the stick together. We’re all like a big family, and the Clinic is like out second home,” Ever since then I’ve always thought of the Jimmy Fund patients as my brothers and sisters.

Before the game the next day we got to meet some of the Red Sox players, and got to get some autographs. I didn’t really pay attention much attention to the game, but I still had a blast. Once I got back from that weekend I got to start my months’ worth of radiation. It went better than the chemo, and there weren’t really any side effects. The only sucky part was that I had to go 5 days a week for the radiation.

That month went by fast, and seen after I got to go back to school full time. I had missed about half a year of school, my freshman year of high school. It felt really weird going back after so long. I admit, I was afraid how people would react towards me, the Jimmy Fund patient, a survivor. Would they see me as a freak? Would they still manage to see me as who I was as a person? There were a few people who I barely knew treated me with sympathy, and asked me a lot of questions. Both these types of people annoyed me beyond belief. I hated it when these people talked to me, just because of what I went through, I didn’t want their pity. Though they seemed like they cared, I couldn’t help but think that they were only talking to me to make themselves feel better, or because they figured I might die so they thought they should be kind. It made me sick. Though some may have been genuinely concerned I still was annoyed. Whenever people at school asked me if I was doing okay I always wanted to shout. “No, I feel like crap! That’s why I woke up at six in the morning to come here instead of sleeping in!” or “Well, I’m here at school, or I’m obviously feeling alright if I’m here,” I know it may have sound rude, but that’s how I felt.

Only my friends didn’t change. They still treated me pretty much the same. They may have asked if I was alright once and a while, but not too often. They still treated me as the person I was before all this had happened. When the school year ended I was declared in remission. I was finally cured, and I had managed to pass the 9th grade.

That summer I went to Detroit for another Red Sox game with the Jimmy Fund. It’s was great to be with my brothers and sisters again. Once again, we had a great time! Though the Red Sox may have lost, but the game was close, and they tried their hardest. That summer I went to summer camp for the first time. It was the Hole in the Wall Gang Camp, founded by Paul Newman. It was a camp for kids with life threatening illnesses. That was a week I will never forget. I sadly will not be writing about it now, due to the fact I will never be able to stop once I start.

The beginning of the school year I was terrified that people would bring up what happened the last year. I actually don’t mind talking about being a Jimmy Kid. Heck, I’m even at a point where I joke around about it. It’s part of who I am, and I’m not ashamed of it. It’s how other people react that worry me. Whenever I mention it people seem to feel awkward, or treat me differently. So I try to avoid this topic around people I just met, not for my comfort, but for theirs.

Now, a year since I was declared in remission I’m doing whatever I can to help the Jimmy Fund. I will walk in the Jimmy Fund walk in Boston every year. At my work we sell triple winner tickets ( which are kind of like a scratch ticket) to raise money for the Jimmy Fund, I buy one almost every time I’m there.

I’ve been though something that no one should have to go through. I hope that none of those who are reading this will have to deal with what my fellow Jimmy Kids and I gave gone through. I got off lucky. I only had to go through about six months of treatment, and only had to deal with very minimal side affects, and had probably only a .01% chance of dying. My brothers and sisters, have had to go through a year or more of treatment, dealt with some of the worst side effects, and many had to deal with the fear of dying. There are times when I wish I had it a little harder, it makes me feel a little guilty that I got off so easy.

I know of at least one of my fellow Jimmy Kids passing on. He had a rare type of brain tumor, and wasn’t doing too good. He and I had the same treatment day, so we usually say each other at the clinic during treatment. When I heard he was gone I felt numb. To us Jimmy Kids losing one of us was like losing a real blood-sibling, possibly even worse. All of us share a sort of a bond. Only we can completely understand each other. We’ve all shared similar experiences, I’d even say we are even closer than siblings. Losing one of us, is almost like losing a part of ourselves. No one can completely understand us, or how we think.

There are times when I can’t help but think what I would be like if I was never diagnosed. Would I still be who I am today? Would I still think the same way? No matter what, I’d never want to take back what I’ve went through. All those memories, the sadness, everything, it’s now part of who I am. I still feel that some people treat me differently because of what happened to me. Whether they see me as a freak, or someone they should pity I don’t care anymore. If they can’t deal with it then too bad for them. I’m proud to be a Jimmy Fund patient, a Jimmy Kid, a survivor. I still worry what will happen to me in the future. There’s a chance that the cancer will come back. Even though I would never want to take back those experiences, there is no way I’d want to repeat them. I’d say I fear the cancer coming back more than death itself. I try to avoid thinking about this happening, but there are times when I can’t just push these thoughts from my mind.

I worry about my brothers and sisters everyday. Everyday I wish that they will survive too. I’ve had to deal with seeing people by own age, and younger who have cancer. I want them to be able to survive too. To be able to grow up and enjoy life. I know some will not make it, and that thought makes me want to cry.

Maybe someday in the future there will be a cure for cancer. One that didn’t involve months if not years of treatment. I doubt I’ll be around to see that day, but who knows? Maybe in the next few decades they’ll come close. I sure hope they do. I basically missed a half a year of my life due to treatments, others have missed out on years. It’s not fun. It’s hard trying to catch up on everything, to make up for that time missed. Heck, even two years later I still feel like I’m behind.

I could keep going on, ranting, and writing down the thoughts going through my mind, but will choose to stop with one last statement. When you’re about to complain on how much your live sucks because this one kid won’t ask you out, or your parents won’t get you a new Ipod, or you’re having a bad hair day, think about us cancer kids. Think about how good your life really is, and be happy about it. And when you know or meet someone who has, or had cancer just treat them like a person. Don’t try to pity them. We’re people too, and want to be treated as such. If you can’t do that then you’re better off not saying anything at all.


Authors note: I’m sorry for making this so long, but I felt I really needed to put this all in. I could have gone into more depth, but chose against it. Please keep all of what is written in mind. On behalf of the Jimmy Fund, and cancer patients everywhere I thank you for reading this.

Wow. I have to say I admire you a bit. I had a friend in high school who had Lymphoma during our junior year. She still attended school, she missed a lot though because of treatments and she got sick a lot. She also took advantage of the fact that she had cancer and used it to get things that she wanted, because of that attitude we have since drifted and i rarely see her anymore.

Also, you put your story together well, it flowed from one time to the next easily. I felt like I was reading a published auto biography. There were a few errors, I can't remember where they are though, I didn't note them as I was reading, I was too interested. A few proofreads will clear it right up though.

Aw, I can't believe I missed this.

Thank you for sharing. heart