Personal Narrative-Do You Have Cancer?

"You have cancer,"

I’ve been alive for eighteen years, and I’ve been talking for almost seventeen years. Each of these words have been said around me millions of times, but I never thought that I would hear the three of them together. My knuckles were white, and my head was spinning. feeling like the doctor had knocked the wind out of me, I felt my lunch coming back up. Terrified, I sat and listened as the oncologist spoke. Distantly, I heard his voice, however, there was only one word that was booming over and over again in my skull, taunting me. That word, was cancer.

There was a tumour inside me. It was in my brain, and if I didn’t stop it, I would die. After the doctor said that I had a tumour, I promise you that I could feel it. Calmly, my options were explained to me: I can fight it, or run from it. Of course, my oncologist wanted me to be treated, and explained how chemotherapy, radiotherapy, or surgery could help me.

Physically, I might have been in the office, but in my mind I was a thousand miles away. I had just graduated from high school two months ago, and had my eighteenth birthday a week ago. Sitting there, I was ready to go away to my dream university, but my future was just out of my reach. I wanted to go to university and become a physiotherapist so that I could help people. I wanted to make new

I had heard all of the stories about fighting cancer, and I knew about the physical and emotional toll that it would have on me. My doctor told me that if I were to receive chemotherapy or radiotherapy, I would have a seventeen percent chance of survival for ten years. To me, those odds are quite low, but they are still a chance at life. I would have a chance to live out my dreams, and an opportunity to see my brother get married. I wanted to see these things happen, but I didn’t want to be in too much pain to clap at my brother’s wedding and to not be able to leave the province for university. That just wouldn’t be a life that I could or would