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Emily Lester 
Hi, welcome to Emily's caringbridge! This site has been provided to keep friends and family updated on my progress. As a three time cancer survivor, it seems as though I was forced to grow up a lot faster than most kids. Quite frankly, I am determined that this will be my last battle. I am extremely sick of this disease. It is an omen that has consumed my life for far too long. My original diagnosis occurred on October 17, 2001, three days after my twelfth birthday. Doctor’s gave my family the devastating news. I had acute lymphoblastic leukemia, the most common form of cancer in children. It wasn’t until later that week when I began to understand the gravity of my situation. I was old enough to know what cancer was, however for my own protection, the words never seemed to be spoken aloud. After a few days, all I had made out were bits and pieces of a diagnosis. I stayed on full alert, listening to my parents whispers. I questioned each secret hallway meetings as my parents stepped outside to talk with the doctors. Finally I had made out sentences such as “blood disease” and “leukemia”. Unfortunately, I was too scared to ask questions or clarify the facts. I barely understood what was going on until one day I found the courage to confront my parents. So I have cancer, right? It was the hardest question they’ve ever had to answer. However, they knew that I needed the facts. The bits and pieces about "disease" and "leukemia" were terrifying. My only reference to the term was a Barbara Bush biography that I had read over the summer. The biography had mentioned the death of her child to "leukemia." Recognizing the name of the disease, I feared that soon my family would lose me too.
Those first three years of chemotherapy were quite a battle. However, despite the constant suffering and fatigue, I continued to recover, working toward my high school goals of attending the SPHS International Baccalaureate program. In fighting this illness, I have come to realize that were many gifts in my cancer experience; it just took me awhile to notice. After learning of my relapse in November 2005, my family traveled to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital in Memphis, TN. There Doctor’s determined that a bone marrow transplant would be my best chance for a cure. Fortunately, my younger sister, hero, and best friend, Catherine, was a perfect match. Transplant was tough! Probably one of the hardest challenges I have ever faced! Following more chemotherapy and total body irradiation, my cancerous marrow was completely wiped out. Infused with my sisters healthy cells, all I could do was wait. Weak and fatigued, I spent months suffering through the awful complications and side-effects. For almost a year, I awaited the slow recovery of my immune system. Meanwhile, my life and dreams sat temporarily on hold. However, despite the pain and suffering, I kept up my spirits and studies, refusing to give up. Through my lonesome year in isolation, I continued to gain strength. In July, 2006, I was finally able to return home. In 2007, I transferred to Seminole High School as a full time student. This year I finally got my license and am now a senior attending high school full time. My coarse load is pretty heavy as I am taking several honors/AP classes. I also continue my education through Florida Virtual School. I have returned to my volunteer work with organizations such as The American Cancer Society and the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. This year I have also joined several clubs and extra-curricular activities. Following months of hard work, I recently received news of my acceptance to Duke University. This year it seemed as if my hard work and determination had finally paid off. Up until Thursday January 24th, everything had been going great. The news of my latest relapse has come to our family as a great shock! I still can't believe that this is happening again. Duke is still waiting and I am determined that I wil be there this fall. I am currently back at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.
We ask that each and everyone please pray for Emily as she faces this next challenge. We have so many decisions to make; keeping in mind that none will come easy.
“Living in a constant sea of devastation, I have witnessed innocence wounded, and come to terms with the precariousness of life. These angels living on in my heart are my reason for wanting to make a difference.” Emily Lester
 I Will Keep Adding More Pictures... Chemo Crew Craft & Design
Curing cancer one bead at a time...
Catherine is continuing the fight. She is leading The Chemo Crew in Relay for Life. To donate to this worthy cause online please visit their team site...
http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/RelayForLife/RelayForLifeFloridaDivision?team_id=175515&pg=team&fr_id=4943
Journal
WEDNESDAY, May 7, 2008 It's the National Marrow Donor Program's Thanks Mom Marrow Donor campaign from May 5th through May 19th. It's a great way to spread the word about marrow donation, have people see if they are eligible donors, and join the registry through this campaign - at no cost to the donor!
We were sure you'd want to know about this great initiative. Spread the word!
COPY AND PASTE THE LINK BELOW:
http://www.marrow.org/HELP/Join_the_Donor_Registry/Join_Now_Special/TM/tm08_join_now.html
MONDAY, MAY 5, 2008
One month. It's strange how it feels so much shorter and so much longer than that at the same time. But really, one month. It feels like one day in that the pain is still so fresh and the wound is still so deep. It feels like one year with everything she's missed and everything I miss about her. It's the little things that hurt the most. Passing her old locker, watching 'The Office', seeing the door shut to her room. Every little reminder is like stubbing your toe over and over in the same spot, to the point where it is so bruised and sore it almost doesn't hurt anymore. But then you stub it again and it feels like the most immense pain ever. One month, but it feels like just a day and the longest year ever. Her room looks bare; everything is stored to keep it clean. Our house feels bare; no fighting or laughter. My heart feels bare; I want to just talk to her but I can't. It's gotten to the point where everything in my head has been there before. I can't think anything new because I've already thought it all before. What I should have said, what I should have done, it's all been there. Mostly I think about what she would be doing at a specific moment. Whether it's right before I fall asleep and I picture her cramming for a test with papers spread all over her bed. Or I'm in third period and I imagine her walking fast through the halls at school so she won't be late. It hurts to picture what she would be doing, but it's strange because sometimes it feels almost real. I can see her at the table tapping away on her calculator, sitting on the couch laughing at 'Friends', telling me the latest gossip from school. I wish that's what she were doing. I wish she were yelling at me to be quiet, chasing me around the house, laughing as she tackles and tickles me. I miss her. One month, and I miss her.
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