It can't happen to me.

Chloe Minor
Mrs. Johnson
English III
January 16th, 2008
(Personal Essay)

Everybody has a time in their life when they hear something so unfamiliar to them, that they remind themselves that it couldn’t possibly happen to them. It’s almost a silent promise to yourself that no matter what that situation was you’ll do whatever you can do so it never happens to you. I learned early in my high school career that sometimes telling yourself it won’t doesn’t always mean it can’t. This is where I can honestly say I’ll never again say ‘it can’t happen to me.’
The Summer before my sophomore year in High School I broke the silent promise to myself.  I was diagnosed with Cervical Cancer and Melanoma which I quickly learned is the most serious form of skin cancer. Fetal but if caught early enough can be completely cured. Of course at such an immature age I always thought people with cancer were burden and nothing more than a walking illness at best. My first few months being diagnosed I took it hard and personal. A slap in the face from god, I’d always cry wondering what I had done to deserve this. I was 15 at the time I was diagnosed with both cancers, and now at the age of 17 I still struggle to do everything that I know at my age I should be doing. I still take frequent visits to my doctor and put up with numerous rumors at school. Dealing with cancer in high school made me realize that sometimes you have to keep struggling and keep going on just to make it out. People ask questions, people whisper, and people have even questioned whether I was lying about it. It took almost a year for me to realize that it’s fear that made them do this. My cancer isn’t a burden on my life but a miracle in my midst. It is what it is and I have to accept myself for it. I can’t “fix it” and it’s a little late for an absolute cure. So when people talk, I listen. When people whisper, I confront. When people ask, I answer. Coming to a new school has opened my eyes to the fact that I have to be honest about it and make sure people who consider me a friend are well aware of my cancer. About two years into my cancer I’ve learned that people are put into our lives not to stay but sometimes to come and go as follows but leave behind the gift of once knowing and once having. I read a poem recently called “The Dash” By Linda Ellis that really touched my heart. 

The Dash
I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning - to the end.
He noted that first came the date of her birth
And spoke of the following date with tears
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.
For the dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth....
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not how much we own:
The cars.....the house....the cash.
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard...
Are there things you'd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
(you could be at "dash mid-range")
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what's true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel
And be less quick to anger
and appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
Like we've never loved before
If we treat each other with respect
and more often wear a smile...
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy's being read
with your life actions to rehash...
Would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?
-Linda M Ellis

At 17 years old today I have to face that I may not wake-up to my everyday second chance I usually get. I’m okay with that I live my life day by day and to the fullest. I don’t live based in guidelines or a rulebook, I think completely out of the box on any given day of the week and I can completely sit down with any stranger and carry a conversation. I live my life knowing it can happen to you, to me, to them. I hope you never have to hear you have cancer, or hear you need radiation or chemotherapy, I hope you never have to have a port surgically inserted into your chest, be connected to IV poles, I hope you never have to understand what it’s like to remember you promised this would never be you.