Unconditional Love

CHAPTER 1: The Doctors visit

"You may not live to be 16." the doctor says to me in an empathetic voice.

Overwhelming thoughts swim in my mind. How can I go on? I am only fifteen!? This moment was when I found out I had cancer. I was so fidgety about being in the hospital already, that this made my visit even more horrific. The doctor tried to tell me how this had happened in a manner that wouldn't make me too frantic. He felt using the analogy that a "seed" of cancer had been planted in me and it grew and had spread all around my body.

"We are doing all we can to help you, Victoria. You will have chemotherapy to try to purge you of this demon."

When he tells me this I feel like I want to vanish into the depths of the Earth, and never feel the pain I would endure from the chemo. That entire doctor's visit, I prayed, saying over and over in my mind, "God, please guide me. Show me some kind of signal that this will be okay. I know somehow it will, but show me how." The physician then proceeded to tell me about the list of things I cannot do when undergoing radiation. I can't run (my only thing that relieves me is running) because my body is so fragile. I can't operate heavy machinery...which means no license. Throughout my whole life I have been told "you can't understand that math problem." "You can't run that far, you're to slow." CAN'T is the word that is like debris from a hurricane in my path of life. The word makes me feel like zero, zilch, nothing, with no potential. But what these doctors don't know is that I am intractable to their rules. I will find a way to live my life to the fullest.

CHAPTER 2: Conversing During the Car ride Home

After this, my visit time ends with my mother and me speechless and teary-eyed. We arrive at our car, my mom in the driver seat, me slouching in the passenger. We take one look at each other and uncontrollably cry for fifteen minutes. Once we have cried out enough tears to make Niagara Falls, I find the courage to emit my opinions and act as a moderator of the situation.

"Mom, at least we have each other. The doctors will do everything they can. I know I CAN do this. This is all just part of God's plan for us. I know it seems like he doesn't care, but somehow I know he will help me and our family."

My mom replies with, "Victoria, your dad and I have never really encouraged you to do things you are completely capable of doing. This year, I will try my hardest to boost your self-confidence in modicum amounts. Helping you little by little, to show you Victoria, that you have the potential to reach for the sky."

CHAPTER 3: Potential

Potential. For all these years I have never had potential to do anything I wanted. Now, I feel empowered by courage and confidence.

After our conversation/cry fest in the car, my mother and I decide that my dad is probably worried and hungry, so we head for home. To say the least when we arrive, and tell my father the news, he handles it very rashly. The whole situation turns out to be one tangled jumble of tears and a lot of "I'm sorry for never showing you encouragement"'s.

I then realized that this next year (if I live that long) of my life would be the hardest one yet. I knew that I was not just overcoming cancer but, my lack of pride, and low self-esteem. I just hope I will find the unconditional love of the Lord, and a way to make things better. My small, but current challenge will be telling people at school, why I was gone today.

Chapter 4: Trying to Move a Rubber Tree Plant, is hard

The morning after I learn about my "disease," I am given two options. Either I can stay home, and not go to school if I feel too bad, or I can go to "the prison" I call school. I don't feel like facing my friends, but I know I have to see them sooner or later. I then proceed to drag myself out of bed, and stumble down the stairs, for my usual...breakfast of champions. Thank God for Apple Cinnamon Cheerios and Tropicana Orange Juice, or I would never have strength to go to school in the mornings. After only maybe five small "shovels" of Cheerios, and a miniscule swig of oj, I feel very full, and a little light headed. Must be effect of the drugs they gave me to help relax my nerves. I don't think much of this, until I get up from the table and feel the room spinning uncontrollably, and my stomach aching. Usually this is a sign of "girl issues," but it is definitely not that. I decide to tell my mom and dad. Of course, they are parents of a cancer patient, so the take extra precautions, and rush me to the ER.

As I wait in the dreaded hospital room with my head throbbing, I think of a song my mom used to sing to me when I was down, or having a rough day.

Just what makes that little old ant think he can move a rubber tree plant,

Ev'er body knows an ant, can't move a rubber tree plant,

But he's got high hopes, though he's got high hopes though,

He's got high apple pie in the skyyy hopes so,

When your down and out there's no need to shout, just remember that ant

Whoops there goes another rubber tree

Whoops there goes another rubber tree

Whoops there goes another rubber tree plant......THAT ANT!

I start to giggle slightly through the pain, and then the doctor walks in.

"Okay, what do we have here? Having pain in the lower right part of your abdomen. Hmm....we will run some tests and get this all straightened out.

My heart literally skips beats. This is the last thing I need right now. God, please help me.

Chapter 5: Another "minor setback"

I am laying in my hospital bed with thoughts drowning my head. Suddenly the doctor burts in the door. Startled, I sit up and get ready for the news.

"Its your appendix. You have to have an appendicitice before it bursts."

Great. Appendicitice? Just what a fifteen year old cancer patient wants to hear, is that she has to have another surgery, tests, more stress SHE DOESN'T NEED!!!!

My mother and father say in unison, " Is she going to be ok?!?!??!" Not "how much will this cost?!?" But am I going to be ok. I am so blessed to have them.

The doctor replies with, " Yes, this is very common for people. The appendix is not vital to the human body, and eventually it is removed! The only thing that needs concern is that Victoria stays home for a few days after surgery. Oh, surgery will need to be very soon. A few hours or so. Victoria will be put under annesteic and it will take her a few hours to recover from the surgery. Other than that, she should be fine and will bounce back in a few days. "

Sighs of relief are shared from my parents to me. Thank God that it isnt something more serious.

* * *

Hours later I have been drugged up and I'm ready to undergo surgery. I am wheeled down the long hallway, to the room where i will be carved open like a Christmas ham. Finally, its time to be put on the annestetic.

"Now, this is going to make you very 'loopy' and you will not wake up for a while. Disorientation will occur as well mild amnesia", the surgeon says to me.

I close my eyes as the mask goes over my nose and mouth. I gasp/gag once and then I start to feel unusually tired. The last thing I remember is saying a little prayer in my head, God help me to overcome this. Strengthen my heart. Amen. And then my thoughts were gone.