The C-Word | Teen Ink

The C-Word MAG

April 23, 2017
By ariannachen BRONZE, Wayne, New Jersey
ariannachen BRONZE, Wayne, New Jersey
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"I suffer migraines. I do not suffer fools." -E. Lockhart


I’m not the type of person to remember things. I’m a fiend for forgetting names and birthdays (to my friends’ dismay), let alone what I had for dinner the night before. So somewhat unshockingly, I don’t remember too many details about the day that I found out I had cancer. I remember weird things. I remember the squeaking of the red, plastic-covered chair I was sitting in, the sterile white walls around me, and the dead silence that ensued.

It was not immediate for me. Understanding what the doctor said, I mean. I cried (I think), but it was not because I was scared. It was because my parents were crying, and it felt like I should too. From that point on, I did a lot of things because it felt like what I was supposed to do. I laughed a lot even though things weren’t very often funny, I did well in school even though I didn’t care, and I silently went about life as if everything were fine even though I knew everything was far from it.

Once the news does hit you though, you notice things. And in retrospect, you notice really, really dumb things that make you think a little too much. You think about The Fault in Our Stars and how Augustus and Hazel could not have fallen in love at first sight – maybe they just wanted to experience love before they died of cancer. You think about how your friends stand by your side proudly, waving you around like a trophy of their humanity because they befriended a cancer patient. You think about everything else that is unjust in the world and how people don’t care enough about these things long enough to actually make a difference. And you get angry, not just at the little things, not just at cancer, but at the world.

Let me tell you from a first hand account, hating the world is exhausting.

And I could cite some irrelevant examples about how I was “wronged,” like when a girl who broke her arm got a card from the class but I didn’t. I was at a point where I was looking for reasons to hate the world, and that is honestly such a sad way to live life.

But cancer also did something else. I can’t trace where this realization came from, or even when it happened, but I eventually reached a point where I acknowledged the darkness in the world. I accepted the nature of human beings and my responsibility to try to overcome these shortcomings.

I began to notice the other causes that were being ignored, and instead of scoffing at the world for ignoring them, I decided that it was my responsibility to do something about it. It was my job to hold the world responsible for its actions and perpetuate the humane sense of empathy and determination for making changes.

The world is full of darkness, but it is also embedded with light and compassion that just needs to be awakened. I’m not saying that I turned into some hippie trying to change the world and create world peace, but I realized that the light in this world makes it worth living in.

The truth is that I haven’t figured everything out yet, but I am certainly not the same person as I was before. Cancer changed me. I am kinder, more empathetic, and I appreciate life for those who couldn’t experience the fullness of it themselves.
While I wish that I could have learned these life lessons without cancer, I accept it. I had cancer. I’m stronger because of it. 


The author's comments:

A memoir about facing the unjust nature of the world as a child and moving forward. 


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