What a difference a day makes

20 days ago I was a different person.

20 days ago I was an overly ambitious teenage nerd, counting the hours until I would return to the math and science academy I call home.

19 days ago, I diagnosed with cancer. Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. Stage 3b.

Since then, I have entered a world of pills, hand sanitizer, and IVs. A world where the only medicine is to flush one’s body with poison: enough to kill the cancer, but not enough to kill oneself. I must say, the initial few days I spent wallowing in self pity. I was pretty down about not returning to school. But today was different. I don’t know how it happened. Maybe it’s a mood swing, or maybe it’s the meds, but something happened, and I think it’s for the better.

I came to this incredible realization that I can't just walk out my front door and start screaming at whatever lies beyond our atmosphere for "giving" me this. I've accepted the fact that I have cancer, and I'm going to kick this thing in the ass. For example, my dad and I are shaving our heads together, but for a day or two we're going to have daddy-daughter mohawks. I also picked out a purple wig for graduation. Apart from that, I'm writing a speech, where I hope to work with cancer foundations and elementary schools about cancer awareness and ways that kids can help. (I'm waiting until I'm completely bald though, and I'll let the kids touch my head if they want).

As for the chemo, I feel like I am cheating the system. My doctors and nurses warned me about nausea, terrible pain, mouth sores, all sorts of things. Ha! I barely feel a thing. I'm either really lucky or the chemo isn't working.

While I’m at home all day, I’ll be taking 3 classes from school, studying up on my Spanish, and continuing psychology research that I do at the University of Chicago.

Perhaps the most striking aspect of this whole cancer chapter of my life is the support of my friends and family. For example, my grandparents literally dropped their lives in Washington DC to come live with my family and me in order to help out. Furthermore, words cannot describe the loyalty and kindness of my friends. Someone once said, “Friends are our chosen family” and the actions of my friends as a result of this illness have really shown this to be true.

As for now though, I can only hope that I’ll keep up this attitude, this drive to make something wonderful out of what could be so terrible. I'm not going to let this thing beat me, and I'm certainly not going to let it beat my spirit.

This was day 20.