How The Nerd Community Helped Me Fight Cancer
2011 was a busy year for me. I was a junior in high school and my life was full of major events left and right; college hunting, SATs, prom. I really only cared about the former, though that quickly changed when my school’s anime club announced that they’d be attending AnimeNEXT.
I was ecstatic. The extent of my con experience was when I went to Otakon in ’09, and even then I hadn’t even cosplayed. Not only was I determined to attend – this time, I fully intended to cosplay, too, and as my first time I wanted to make it special.
I brainstormed, tossing ideas around in my head. At the very least, I had a few to go off of – none which, thanks to an unexpected change of events, would be put to use.
About halfway through my junior year, I began to think there was something wrong with me. Nearly every day I woke up for school, it was with headaches and stomachaches that came and went as the day progressed. It got to the point that before class started, I was at the nurse’s in the bathroom, dry heaving. When my early day stops there became fairly frequent, she told me I needed to see a doctor.
That same day my mom took me to see our new doctor who, through a simple checkup, identified a heart murmur I’d never had before. That heart murmur led to an ultrasound that revealed a mass near my heart.
A few weeks later, on March 28th, I was pulled out of class and taken to a hospital in Princeton, then CHOP (Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia). After staying there and undergoing numerous scans and tests, I had an answer.
Early April, I was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma Stage IV. The mass a few inches beneath my right clavicle, the mass that my childhood had told me was nothing of concern, had been my tumor.
My plans for AnimeNEXT went out the window. I finished school online and spent my days either at CHOP, or at home in bed. The optimism I had going into treatment began to wane in the face of the increasing intensity of my cycles of chemotherapy and the side effects that came with it.
I had days that I wanted to stop treatment and die.
I’ve met other survivors who say that their faith in God got them through their experience with cancer. For me, I know that if I didn’t have the love and support I did from my friends and family, I wouldn’t have emerged from treatment as strongly as I did.
Knowing that I had people who cared and wanted me to beat cancer strengthened my determination to pull through, but a few memories that stick out a little more vividly than the rest.
One evening, two of my friends from school visited me with gifts. One was a Get Well balloon, but it was the rest of what they’d brought that made my day.
A pile of handmade cards awaited me, all from my friends at anime club telling me how much they missed me, wanted me to get better, and knew I’d be able to kick cancer’s ass. It not only brightened my evening at CHOP but a good portion of my experience with cancer as well.
What’s more is that after AnimeNEXT, which I ended up not attending due to my sickness, a close friend of mine came over and gave me a plushie of one of my favorite characters. Needless to say, I was caught off guard and very happy. Said friend nearly got tackled to the floor out of joy.
What I need to (or at least should clarify) is that in both of these situations, the material value wasn’t what mattered. I didn’t care, let alone want to know how much my friends spent on me – in fact, I tend to feel guilty whenever anyone spends money on me regardless, no matter how close we may be.
The reason those memories stay dear to me to this day is because of the sentimental value they hold in my heart.
What I will say from experience is that during my time with cancer, I didn’t want sympathy. I didn’t want sympathy, but I also didn’t want to be regarded as some hero or valiant soul for being strong through necessity, to live to see another day and, hopefully, the rest of my life.
What I wanted was to feel understood – though, since the survivors I knew at the time were few and far between, I also yearned for something else.
I wanted to know that I was being thought of, that I was loved or at least worth enough to someone to be worthy of their time. Through the visits, shoulders to cry on, ears lent for venting, phone calls, hours shared on Y!M, Facebook and Skype, and overall endless support, I was able to overcome my cancer because I knew that I meant something to somebody. That powered the driving force that got me to the condition I’m in today.
Many of my friends from anime club are not only some of my closest friends – they make up the group of friends that never left my side when I truly needed them. That is something that will always stay with me.
My advice (for what it’s worth) to anyone undergoing any sort of illness, and to anyone with a loved one living with an illness, is to stay strong. Six cycles of chemotherapy and a month of radiation later, I’ve been in remission for what is soon to be a year and eight months. I’m not going to sit here and act like it was all sunshine and rainbows, but knowing that I was important to so many people gave me the determination I needed to pull through.
This doesn’t just apply to those with cancer. This can apply to anyone.
If someone you care about it struggling with something, emotional, physical, even both, and you can’t directly help them, above all else you can be there for them. Be that shoulder to cry on, ear to listen, that person to remind them that they are worth something to you if and when they can’t see/remember it themselves.
Sometimes the smallest words – and actions – can help someone out the most.
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Do you have a positive story you would like to share with the nerd community? Feel free to e-mail at producer[at]nerdcaliber.com.
