The Fault in Our Shelby

Kerol Shelby

It's so boring here, just lying here day after day, after day. I'm Kerol Ann Francis Shelby, or Kerol Shelby for short. I have Osteosarcoma.

I was one of the lucky boys who got diagnosed with Osteosarcoma. Often, Osteosarcoma is found in boys who go through a growth spurt that makes them very tall. And I happen to be 6'4. So the odds caught up to me and it happened. My DNA had to go be stupid and screw up while I was growing. The cells that grow bone "osteoblasts", hence why it's called Osteosarcoma, just mutated and screwed me over big time.

Now I know what you're thinking. What is a boy doing with the name Kerol Ann Shelby. Or did you even realize I was a boy? Well I can assure you, I am a boy. Although many people get confused. They also get confused about how my name is spelled. Well, newsflash: you can spell "Carol" other ways. But really, I have no idea what was going through my parents' minds when they decided to name me Kerol Ann of all names for a boy. I'm assuming they were high when they signed my birth certificate. Although I have a girl's name, I actually do like my name and won't ever change it. I've done research on my name and found about about a guy named Carroll Shelby and what I've found out about that is that he made one of the coolest old racing cars, the AC Shelby and later on the Shelby Mustangs for Ford. He is also said to be one of the manliest men to ever live and to be a hopeless romantic, but if they were trying to name me after him they got the first name wrong, only confirming my theory even more that they were high. So, I think the moral of this short, little, introduction story of my name is: Don't name your kid while you're high.

Anyway, time to get back to the boring life of lying in bed all day, everyday. I can't go to school, so life is really boring. My mom and dad aren't here much either they have to work. Cancer really isn't the most cost efficient disease to have.. So my only social interaction every day is nurse's and the doctor making sure their balancing my medications correctly, so I don't go into a medically induced coma. Which sounds like a better alternative but according to one of my cancer buddies, it's actually horrific. So I take his word for it. It was sad to watch the progression of death slowly consume your friend, the coma was just another tick on the clock showing time wasn't on his side anymore. I'm not sure it's on mine either anymore.

As I continue to lay in my bed, day after day losing more of the precious time, I actually have a few school friends who visit. I never tell them what I think about and how time isn't on my side anymore. I don't think they could take that. Especially not Sophia. She's always so strong putting up with the world each day. I can see the pain in her eyes as she visits me. Sometimes it brings me more pain watching someone so innocent watch me die, something so terrible. I feel like watching her see me slowly die makes me die more inside. I might die from a broken heart before the cancer. It's makes me feel bad but in the times together we have fun, I forget about it. I forget that I'm dying, I forget that I'm killing all the other people with me, because for just a moment I can pretend like I'm just a normal teenager who does normal things and isn't dying. But somewhere deep down inside of me I am normal. I think that's something people tend to forget, including me. Call me selfish if you want, but for just a few moments it makes me feel like my life was worth it and not just some cheap horror movie.

With all of the sadness and always thinking about my death, my friends thought it'd be good for me to get an Instagram. I straight out told them no. Like who was even going to follow me anyway like, "Oh, yes, please let me follow this poor teenage boy that's dying from cancer." Like what am I even suppose to post pictures of my hospital room? A selfie while I'm poked and prodded with needles? No way. But they made me have one anyway. And that is when the story begins.