Chapter 13: Diagnosis

          I sat there in the little white room, thinking about everything. About how the problem with my eyes had started long ago- over a year now. That I had grown increasingly clumsier and my headaches had become crippling. So, here I sat, after numerous weeks of testing and poking and prodding. I was snapped out of my daze when I heard the door click open and then shut behind an older man in a long white coat holding my medical file. He sat down and removed his glasses with a sigh. I held my breath as he spoke, “Well, we have reviewed your file and come to a conclusion.”

            My mother leaned forward in anticipation, “And?”

            I could tell it wasn’t good by the way he looked at his- his eyes sad and sorrowful, “We believe you have Medulloblastoma, it’s a common form of tumor that grows in the brain-” My mother began to sob and I pressed myself against her in comfort, “The tumors are usually malignant. The survival rate with this form of cancer is about fifty-percent.  But, with treatment, you have a better chance of fighting and winning. We can discuss your treatment options at a later date. Do you have any questions?”

            “How big is it?” I heard the words drift sleepily from my mouth.

            He opened the file and held up the MRI scan pictures to the light, “It’s about 3.5 centimeters in diameter so that puts you in stage two of the tumor-process. Hopefully, we can keep this from moving forward with the possibility of a surgery paired with chemotherapy later on. I am very optimistic about this- it isn’t very large and we caught it early enough to have time to treat it.”

            I held myself together as my mother continued to weep, her sides heaving as I felt the pain coursing through her. Her oldest child, her baby, had already felt so much suffering and yet, here we were. One thing after another had landed on my shoulders, but none of the others mattered now. Surgery was in my future. And treatments that I had never imagined. I knew that just as everything else had passed, this would, too. It hurt inside to know that I was sick, but I had to be strong for my family. I knew I could lean on them for support, but right now was their time to grieve. Tonight would be my time. When I would sit by myself in my room and curse whatever sent this upon me. And then I would wake up, go to school, and put on a mask to show everyone I could be strong. Because, in the end, there was a plan and this was part of it.