I was 17-years-old when I was diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma, Stage IV. I had just finished my junior year in high school, when I experienced symptoms in the face and in the neck area. The right side of my nose was clogged, my right eye was swollen, and the right side of my face was numb. At first, I thought that my wisdom teeth were the problem, but after I had them removed because they were impacted, the symptoms continued.
A week after my wisdom teeth were removed, I found a small lump on the right side of my neck. I made an appointment with my physician, and just like in most cases, I was misdiagnosed. The doctor thought that I had a sinus infection, and so he prescribed antibiotics. Obviously, the antibiotics did not work. In the meantime, my symptoms were becoming worse. As each day passed, my eye became more swollen, the lump on my neck kept growing, and my face was still numb.
I made another appointment with my physician, and after the results of my blood work came back negative for an infection of the thyroid gland, he suggested that I make an appointment with an ENT specialist. By then, a month had passed by. When I looked in the mirror, I could barely recognize myself. Was this really me? What was happening? Why couldn't I find the answers to these symptoms? Sometimes I wondered if I would have to live the rest of my life with these symptoms. I felt miserable; I wanted answers. Although my family said that I should not worry about it and that it was probably something that would go away by itself, deep inside, I knew that these symptoms would lead to bad news.
My appointment with the ENT specialist was on August 5, 2005. On August 2, 2005, I woke up to half of a swollen face and to a completely shut eye. My mom rushed me to the ER; there I had my first CT scan of the head. The doctors at the ER contacted the ENT specialist that I was supposed to see at the end of the week, and she said that she wanted to see me as soon as possible. After the ER, my mom and I went to the specialist's office. I was nervous because I was so close in finding the answers that I had been looking for.
As soon as the specialist looks at my CT scan, her jaw drops. Then, her face becomes pale. I thought that she had seen a ghost. My mom looks at me and I look at her; we both did not like the specialist's facial expressions. My heart was beating fast and my hands were sweating. Something is wrong, I thought to myself. Finally, she turns around and says to me, "There's something growing in your sinus cavity."
"It's alive" was the first thing running through my head. What is it? The specialist knew what it was, but she did not say anything because the only proof she had was a CT scan. She needed a biopsy, so she stuck a pair of tweezers up my nose and removed a piece of the mass that was growing inside. OUCH!! I bled and bled and bled, but at that point I did not care. I was glad that I was getting closer and closer to the diagnosis.
The specialist said that I also needed a MRI of the head, so she scheduled one for me for August 5, 2005 (remember this date because it will come up again). When the MRI was over, I had to get the film from the radiologist and I had to return to her office. That day arrived...I had the MRI done and I returned to her office with the films. Oh boy, did I know what was to come! I entered the room and I sat down. This time, my dad and my sister came with me. The specialist opens the films, looks at them and then she looks at me. She said that the results from the biopsy arrived, and just like that she drops the big bomb, "You have cancer," she said.
I must have not heard her because I sat there, completely still. Time had stopped. My head felt lighter. My body was there, but my soul was elsewhere. I stared at her lips while she said those horrible words; I traced them with my mind, but I could not understand what they meant. Then I heard an echo in my ears. It was getting closer and closer. "You have cancer, you have cancer," the echo said. Suddenly, I felt pressure on my shoulder. The nurse had placed her hand on me as a sign of comfort. That's when I burst into tears.
There it was...August 5, 2005, the day when I found out I had cancer. What I remember the most is the fact that my family never left my side after that day. My parents and my sisters were always there for me. Seeing them suffer because of a disease that I had was devastating. Seeing my dad cry for the first time was heartbreaking. They all loved me so much, and they all still do. That's why I had to fight and win this battle.
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