When I confessed to my loved ones that my tumors were cancerous, the looks of pity and sadness that I received made me feel degraded. I understood that they were trying to be empathetic, but deep inside it felt like they were doubting me, wanting to see me no longer as Alejandra, but as the walking dead. The reality was that I was still Alejandra and in no way was I going to let cancer steal the very essence of who I was. It could force me to succumb to the effects of surgeries and radiotherapy and separate me from my support system for weeks. It could deprive me physically from school and let homework and tests pile up and up. However, it would not dictate who Alejandra was and is; rather, it was going to help me build a stronger me.
Wallowing in the “what ifs” was not going to make the battle easier. If anything, it was going to make the fighting a lot more miserable. Therefore, I decided to conquer cancer with positivity. Entering each appointment, surgery, and treatment with a smile made the miserable situation durable and even enjoyable with all the new experiences and people I encountered. I received many stares from doctors who were expecting a broken and bitter seventeen year old girl! However, even when I was optimistic and smiling, I still felt like I was suffocating inside. After spending the entire day at the hospital, I knew that back at the hotel room was a whole school day waiting to be finished.
No matter what, I decided I was going to do all the schoolwork with the same work ethic as if I was completely healthy. It was one of the things that kept me going. So I brought homework to the hospital and worked every chance I had, but even then the pile did not seem to diminish. Being strong for my family and myself, and working on the seemingly never ending accumulation of homework was slowly but surely devouring my strength.
There were times when I just wanted to go back in time and change the misdiagnosis I was given two years ago. Instances where I desired I had never heard the words “unfortunately” and “cancer” in the same sentence. There were times where I just wasn’t as strong as I wished I was, moments where I locked myself in a room and cried all of my doubts and insecurities out. I cried for the seemingly broken dreams, for the never-ending threat of the unknown, the loss of stability in my life, and the vanishing of my first semester of senior year. However, as soon as the last tear was out, I dusted myself off and went back into battle.
Just as I thought I was winning the fight and was about to start what we all thought was the last stage of my battle, the cancer metastasized and another surgery was needed after radiotherapy. I collapsed. How long was I going to live in turbulence and sail the unknown? When was this battle going to end?
I could only do what I had learned to do: be positive, brave, strong, get the most out of a dreadful situation, and most importantly, trust God. It might seem cheesy, but I truly would not change this battle for anything. This battle has taught me so much about God and myself. I learned that faith is much more than just believing that God existed or praying in such a way that I deluded myself to think that my will was definitely God’s. During the months before my diagnosis, I had started to understand that faith is about surrendering it all even when my will does not match God’s will. It is easy to say but hard to practice, especially in the little things.
I never once blamed God when I received the diagnosis. Whether that was because in a way I was expecting the diagnosis or because I truly believed that God was going to work through it, I don’t know. However, I definitely discovered that the latter was what God was doing as He opened doors and led me to the right people. Throughout the battle, I completely gave Him control over the situation. Without Him, I am positive that I would have become crazed or depressed. God was the one that gave me the strength to keep on fighting and who will keep giving me that strength.
While I learned to trust God with the big things, I wasn’t able to trust him with the small things yet, like my tests and homework. I couldn’t control cancer, so I trusted God, but when it came to situations I could control, like my schoolwork, then it was all on me. It was until my mom pointed this out during one of my mental breakdowns that I realized I wasn’t trusting God fully. I realized I had never done so before because after prayer and “trusting” God I would forget about it and go back to thinking it all depended on me.
It was during this hard moment that I fully understood what faith and trust meant. It was not about giving a portion of my affliction to Him. It was about presenting Him with all my afflictions and believing He would work it out. Most importantly, it was about glorifying Him in the good and bad moments in life and giving Him full glory for all that He has done, even the situations where it seemed I had full control.
As I was battling with my longest stage of cancer, radiotherapy, I came to realize that the fight was not mine, but it was “ours”. It was a battle that I shared with the bald and radiant 5 year old girl as well as with the feeble, yet strong grandma. It was a battle that suddenly turned into a global war, the war against all cancer; a war that does not respect nationality, gender, or age, but entwines all of our battles as one. Some battles are fiercer than others, and some battles take away the gift of life. But no battle is lost, if it is fought until the last breath. The strength of that person until the end is a victory for all. Likewise, the conquering of one battle is a victory for all. And if my battle can be of inspiration and strength for someone else, then I will fight it until my very last breath, share it even when it hurts, and smile even when I don’t have the strength.
Have questions or comments for Alejandra? Send your response to ncaeagleeye@gmail.com!
