Day 285 - The Unreachable Star

Hey folks...I’m not dead!

I’m sorry it’s been a while. I had intended to post several times, including when I reached the 6-month post-transplant point, but so much has happened and time has been very scarce. As I mentioned in my last post, I jumped right back into my studies the moment I got discharged from Baltimore, and it has seriously eaten away at the little free time I had to begin with. These past few months have been extremely eventful, to say the least, so bear with me as I try to summarize them and bring you all up to date.

On September 20th, I made it to the 6th-month mark, and my scans showed more unexpected improvement from the last! Although the cancer had been completely eradicated, my new immune system went above and beyond. The scar tissue that lingered inside after all of the many treatments I endured decreased significantly, to which my oncologist said that this is a very good sign. My blood type also switched over from my old type O Positive to what is my sister’s type, B Negative. My energy is slowly, but steadily, coming back to me. By the time I started my full load of courses on campus for the fall semester, the ringing in my ears had subsided, and I was even able to jog my first mile (something I didn’t even think would be possible so soon after a transplant).

At this time, I also started the re-vaccination process...ugh! Since my immune system was essentially the same as a newborn child’s, I had to get the whole nine yards of booster shots. For the first round of shots, I ended up getting a total of 7 shots (including my flu shot) all in one sitting. My takeaway from that experience is I now understand why children don’t like shots. If you ever find yourself getting a Hepatitis B shot, brace yourself...it’s not pleasant. Otherwise, despite the following two days being sore in the arms, I adjusted and distracted myself with my schoolwork.

In October, I decided to take a chance and audition for the theatre department's holiday showcase. I initially went in with absolutely no expectations, especially since it had been over 8 years since I auditioned for a theatrical performance. When I got my first neck biopsy in 2015, my vocal cords didn’t adjust well, and I still have trouble hitting certain notes that would normally sit easily in my range. However, I managed to blow my expectations out of the park when I got the courage to sing “If I Loved You” from the musical Carousel. I didn’t even believe how well I did until I listened to a snapchat recording my friend took of my audition. It felt so unreal...unreal to think how far I had come. It was as if everything suddenly fell into place at that moment...and for the first time in a very long time, I felt like me again. The reality set in especially after I got the email telling me I made it into the show, where I made many new friends. I had a blast singing Christmas songs to veterans and their families at the Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. It was as if the past three years were simply a nightmare I had woken up from.

Sadly, November proved to be incredibly challenging. In the midst of so much going on at school, rehearsals, and doctors appointments, I ended up having to take a whole week off from class due to a really nasty chest cold. It was a smack in the face because this should have been something I would have recovered from easily had my immune system not been so low. Instead, I lost my voice, was put on a TON of drugs, and could barely manage to leave my bed. At the same time, I was facing many family and home stresses that started to take a toll on my mental health. Survivors guilt also crept in, and I had this overwhelming and reoccurring feeling like I’m not supposed to be here...that I didn’t deserve to be here. I knew that I was not ok, but felt like I needed to put on a happy face and pretend that everything was ok. I funneled my pains and dark thoughts into a box in the back of my mind. It wasn't until December arrived, that the box imploded.

The holidays did not turn out how I had originally anticipated it to be like. Tensions at home were extremely high, and exam week was approaching. I thought that if I put all my focus and hard work into my studies, that all will be well in the end. I lost so many hours of sleep and worked ridiculously hard to make sure that I ended the semester with straight A’s. But as soon as my professors logged in every perfect grade, the world hit me in the face. The box in the back of my mind opened up and hell was unleashed. I felt trapped, afraid, and anxious about the future. Tiny things were triggering major panic attacks that would lead to multiple questions. What do I do with my life? Where do I go? Why am I still here? Will the cancer come back? How much borrowed time did I get from the years of treatment?  Is it even worth it?

Poison was seeping into my head...and it felt like I was very alone. Despite the major accomplishments I made, the satisfaction from them was not enough to overpower these attacks. However,  on December 17th I hit a lot point, and I decided to play some showtunes on a televised music station. The first song that came on was ‘The Impossible Dream” from Man of La Mancha...and I instantly felt at peace.

I was reminded of my grandmother, who used to repeatedly play that song over and over for me when I was little. It later dawned on me that, 8 years ago on this exact date, she had peacefully passed away. But what also occurred that same day, just last year, was the moment I made the decision to take on my 5th and final chemotherapy. Despite doctors and specialists telling me how risky it was and the likelihood of it not working, I chose to fight and persevere. Earlier this year, a miracle happened, and I was put into remission after only two rounds of this chemo and eventually given the green light for a bone marrow transplant. I knew in that moment that my grandmother was there with me that night. She was one of the reasons I fought so hard to live. She is one of the reasons I’m still here, because I “still strove with [my] last ounce of courage, to reach the unreachable star.”

The next day, I started to pick myself up again, and I set a plan in motion. I want 2019 to be my redemption year. I want this next year to be the year where I take back what cancer took from me. I’ve already started on this path with my studies, but I don’t want it to stop there. Because of cancer, I had to plant my feet in the ground and stay with my parents while those around me were moving on with their lives. Because of cancer, I was forced to abandon the workday world and limit my activity and interactions with others. Because of cancer, I gained a lot of weight, lost my hair, and inevitably became incredibly self-conscious. Because of cancer, I lost friends either from fear of associating with someone like me or from the disease itself. Well, you know what? I’m done sitting by and letting this cancer claim undeserved victories! 2019 is the year I take it all back! And I plan on using this platform to show just how far I'll fly!

"Here I go, and there's no turning back! My great adventure has begun! I may be small, but I've got giant plans to shine as brightly as the sun!!"

 -Jo March from Little Women the Musical