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* Meg's Story * 
OFFICIALLY CANCER-FREE AS OF NOVEMBER 13TH, 2008! LIFE IS GOOD!
No more treatments, no more needles, no more emergency room visits or daily appointments. A whole lot more of hanging out with friends and family, playing sports, and doing all the things I love to do!
My story begins in the fall of 2003, when I was ten years old and a brand new fourth grader. It was the twilight years of my childhood, a time when Barbies and dolls and make-believe still held all their old charm, a time when the business of junior high and high school life hadn’t yet taken over.
I had just finished a fun summer full of swimming, bonfires, and trips to the lake, and I was ready to see my friends back at school. Not long after classes started, however, my health took a rapid downward spiral.
It started off with much lower scores in physical fitness tests. I passed these off as a cold. Then, I started to develop headaches in the afternoon. I remember sitting at my desk, pressing a cold eraser to my temple as I tried to ward off the pain. After that, it was just an all-over bad feeling... I was tired all the time, and my old spunk was fading rapidly. I also had a bad bout of chest pain that prompted my mom to take me to the hospital, but they passed it off as gas - yes, you read that right.
On Halloween night, 2003, I complained that I didn’t want to go trick-or-treating – a sure sign that something was wrong. What kid doesn’t want to put on a costume and go fill up a bucket with free candy? Later that night, my legs started to ache. Not just a typical I’ve-been-walking-too-much-today type of ache. This was something much worse.
After a few days, my parents took me in to the intensive care at our local hospital. After a blood test, I was immediately admitted to St. Mary’s Hospital in Rochester, MN (which is only about forty-five minutes from our home) and told that I had one of three things – a virus, severe anemia, or leukemia.
Leukemia – cancer. It was the one disease that I was terrified of. In my ten-year-old mind, cancer meant the end of the road, no matter what. At ten years old, the only thing I could think about was how much I was going to miss my family, my pets, my friends.
After a bone marrow biopsy, my worst fears were confirmed. On November 6th, 2003, I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia.
So began a whirlwind of blood draws, chemotherapy treatments, shots, and hospital stays. The tiniest fever got me a one-way ticket to the emergency room. I reached remission after a short seven days, on November 13th, 2003. Still, two more long years lay ahead, two years during which I only went to school for brief periods, when I was sick and weak, when I had no hair.
And then it ended. Slowly, I was weaned off of chemo. My port-a-cath, my lifeline during treatment, was removed on April 25th, 2006, two and a half years after my diagnosis. It left behind a flurry of white scars that will forever mark my chest – the site of hundreds of needle pricks.
Today, if you were to see me on the street, you would never be able to tell that any of this happened. Today, I can do everything I love. I can play sports, I can be with the people I once feared that I would have to leave. Today, I only have to go back to the clinic every six months. Soon, it will only be once every year.
Today, the only scars cancer left on me are on my chest and in my mind, where the memories of my experience will live on forever - the fear, the pain, and the simplest kind of joy, which you can only learn from coming so close to losing everything. The kind of joy that makes the big AND small things, from the sun in the sky to the people you love, seem so much more important. The kind of joy that makes you realize that you took EVERYTHING for granted before.
I would like to thank everyone who fought my battle with me - my family and friends, doctors, nurses, and even complete strangers who didn't hesitate to hold out a helping hand.
If it weren't for them, I wouldn't be here today.
"A Definiton of Cancer” by Meg (age 11)
It’s just like a nightmare,
But you never wake up,
You dream that you’re falling,
Or you’ve lost the world cup,
But right when it seems,
That you’ll hit the ground,
You wake up from your dreams,
Safe and sound,
But with cancer you keep falling,
It’s a bottomless pit,
Only sometimes your parachute,
Stops you for a bit,
When you win your battle,
The lord catches you in his hands,
He returns you to earth,
Your parachute lands,
But sometimes he takes you to heaven,
Though we've ALL sinned,
There you run free,
On the wisp of the wind,
This is how I describe cancer,
It’s like a nightmare,
It’s something I’ll always remember,
And something I fear,
I just thought I’d let you know what cancer is like,
It makes you tired, like taking a long hike,
But through it all, your family and friends,
They help you and comfort you,
Their support never ends,
This caringbridge page is an example of that,
That’s why this poem is my welcome mat.
Journal
Friday, September 4, 2009 2:53 PM CDT
I haven't updated in a long time since there simply hasn't been anything to update about. I've been great, playing sports and hanging out with friends and getting ready to go back to school. I started sounding like such a broken record when I added journals that I simply stopped adding them.
Earlier this week, a bunch of my friends got back from the state fair. We all practiced together, and everyone was A-ok. The next day, one girl went down with the H1N1 virus, formerly known as "Swine Flu."
It all went downhill from there. Our whole volleyball team was exposed, and the virus has been spreading like wildfire. Many have been tested, a few were positive, and almost everyone has complained of flu-like symptoms. Just as many haven't been tested.
After a party on Wednesday night, I noticed that my throat was a little scratchy. I assumed this was from the cold or sitting around the campfire for too long. The next morning, I had a slight cough and was a little tired. I took painkillers and was good to go.
After my game last night, I could not fall asleep. This morning practices were cancelled, and I'm glad because today I have the classic symptoms - sore throat, deep dry cough, fatigue, headache, extreme chills, and a fever of 101.5.
Now, none of this is really necessary to put on here. There are lots of kids with flu (over 100 kids were sent home from the fair and the Minnesota Health Dept. is being very careful about which 4-Hers they let in), and while it stinks and lasts for as long as a week or more, it's not necessary to inform the world about it.
I just got to thinking, today as I lay in bed too miserable to fall asleep, that if I had been undergoing treatment right now it would be a BIG, BIG deal.
I would surely be in the hospital, probably with limited visitors, and unable to so far as set a toe outside my door.
When I was sick, fevers were very important. Each one resulted in a trip to the emergency room, where I would often stay until the early AM hours. Oftentimes, if my blood counts were too low, I was admitted to St. Mary's until they perked up.
So all I can say is THANK GOD my immune system is now healthy and able to fight something like this. THANK GOD I no longer have to rush to the emergency room if my temperature breaks 100 degrees.
And PLEASE GOD keep the kids that ARE in high-risk categories safe.
Meg
Read Journal History
Hospital Information: Patient Room: Home sweet home! Eugenio Litta Children's Hospital (Mayo Clinic)
St. Mary's Hospital
Rochester, MN
Links:
http://www.cancerkids.org Includes links to other kids fighting cancer
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