My story

It was January of 2011, and my brother and I were pestering my mother to death. We wanted her to think that we had sore throats, just so we could get out of school and go the the doctor's.

After continuous pleading and begging, my mother agreed, with a slight roll of her eyes, to take us both to the medical clinic down the street. After all, the doctors and nurses working there were usually quick with their diagnoses.

The doctor let us in almost instantly, giving my mother some relief. The sooner we were checked, the sooner she would be able to pack for her trip. The doctor checked on Tanner first. Thankfully, there was nothing to be concerned about.

It was then my turn to get evaluated. The tongue depressor was disgusting and made me gag a couple of times, and the feeling of the otoscope in my ears tickled and gave me shivers. A small feeling of regret filled me, and I secretly wished that I was at school rather than the terrible doctor’s office.

The examination was finally coming to an end. The doctor just had to check for any swollen lymph nodes. Her cold hands came around my neck, and a look of confusion crossed her face. She kept her hand on the left side of my neck. Then, she told my mother, with a concerned tone, that there was a chance that I had mono. I, being a fourth grader, had absolutely no idea what that meant, but I could tell that it was some sort of sickness. However, my mother explained to her that I had just recently had a negative mono test, so the doctor ordered an ultrasound.

Twenty minutes later, a nurse was putting very cold gel onto my neck. The screen to my right showed the inside of my neck, and I watched with interest as the ultrasound was completed. We were sent home to await the results.

Later that day, the radiologist called and informed us that a biopsy was needed. Once again, I had no clue what this medical term meant. I just knew I was going to miss more school.

My excitement vanished the next morning when I learned that nineteen needles would be placed into my neck. After the procedure was explained to me, it was very hard for me to be intrepid.

I really didn’t want it to happen, but I didn’t have any choice. As I laid down on the little bed, my best friend’s mom, Bonnie, walked in with a small white teddy bear. It put me at ease. I squeezed the teddy bear tightly before the doctor came in. Just the sight of him turned my face a ghastly white.

To my surprise, he was one of the nicest people I had ever met. Even though he was sticking a bunch of long and pointy needles into my neck, he distracted me as much as he could with questions about my favorite movie, Star Wars. I actually laughed throughout the procedure as we discussed things such as which Star Wars movie I would bring to a deserted island and what my opinions were on bounty hunters. He referred to the needles as Darth Vader’s lightsabers, and I unflinchingly pretended to be a Jedi.

As I headed to the car, my mother stayed behind to talk to the doctor. She assumed that the test results would not be available until the following week. But the doctor advised her to cancel her trip to Houston, as he planned to have the results that afternoon. That’s when we knew this was serious, and by 5:00 pm, the results were in.

Not wanting to upset me, my mother made an appointment for us to see an ENT (ear, nose, and throat specialist) the next morning. Expecting to talk to another doctor about Star Wars, I was thrown off guard when the doctor walked in with a grave expression on his face.

“Good morning, Jade,” he said. “You have cancer.”

Just as a Jedi begins a new path when a lightsaber changes hands, my journey had begun.

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