zinger14
Oct 16, 2010
Undergraduate / Cancer, tumor in brain -- Common App (Significant Exp) [3]
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
Beep beep. Whirr. The tight white grid of my face mask was suffocating. The hard table and the "headrest" were uncomfortable at best, torture at worst. All I could do was follow the movement of the slowly rotating machine, follow its glowing red eye with my own. All I could do was lay utterly still as it beamed waves and waves of ionizing radiation upon my body. Twenty minutes later, although it seemed like an eternity, the experience was over. My radiation therapy was complete, though only for the day. I would be back to continue the battle tomorrow.
Less than two months into my junior year, my doctor gave me the worst news I had ever heard in my life: "You have a brain tumor." I could hardly comprehend what she was saying. My mind flew to the sad faces of bald cancer-stricken children I'd seen on T.V. and in American Cancer Society pamphlets. Surely cancer was something that only happened in movies and to other people, I had thought. It couldn't possibly be happening to me.
One week and two exploratory brain surgeries later, I was just beginning to come to accept my situation when fate struck me a second blow. "Due to its close proximity to the optic nerve, we can't remove your tumor surgically. You will have to undergo radiation therapy." Six weeks of daily radiation therapy in a hospital several hours away, to be exact. Outwardly I remained calm, but inwardly my mind bombarded me with objections. It's junior year! That's pretty much the most important year of high school! What about your clubs? Your activities? Your volunteer work? What about all your classes?
Once I got past the initial shock, I slowly began to see the circumstances in a different light. It was a test, I figured, a fight against an invisible enemy where only the strong would come out on top. I was fighting my cancer through the treatment, but at the same time I was also battling my own inner weaknesses. Without immediate deadlines or obligations, it would have been so easy to fall prey to lazy habits during those six weeks spent in a hotel all day every day. I had never had a gift for organization or time management, but my newfound determination to not let workload, or my health, spiral out of control quickly forced me to develop those skills. The hours I spent contacting my teachers, working with them to develop a system in which I could stay relatively caught up with the rest of my classmates, and coordinating all the assignments and tests I still needed to make up, coupled with the daily radiation, both exhausted and depressed me. But paradoxically, they also strengthened me and steeled my tenacity.
As quickly as they began, the six weeks were over. I had won the battle. I returned to school proudly brandishing the fruits of my efforts: my newly bald head, courtesy of the radiation, my grades, which I had not allowed to slip at all during the time I was gone, and a deep-rooted resolve that now that I had beaten this, I could do anything. I have come to accept that perseverance and sheer willpower can't cure my tumor, nor can they eliminate all my obstacles, but having these qualities certainly will help. Though the war is far from over-triannual MRI scans still reveal a tumor that may never completely disappear-I will continue to push forward, to fight for something better, and to treat each moment as something precious.
---
Whew! I just wrote this in one sitting, so it's definitely a little rough. I really wanted to do this subject, but I wasn't sure how exactly to approach it... I feel like it may be a little scattered. My biggest fear is that it will come off sounding cheesy or banal, so please let me know if it does anywhere! =\
Anyway, critique away!
Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
Beep beep. Whirr. The tight white grid of my face mask was suffocating. The hard table and the "headrest" were uncomfortable at best, torture at worst. All I could do was follow the movement of the slowly rotating machine, follow its glowing red eye with my own. All I could do was lay utterly still as it beamed waves and waves of ionizing radiation upon my body. Twenty minutes later, although it seemed like an eternity, the experience was over. My radiation therapy was complete, though only for the day. I would be back to continue the battle tomorrow.
Less than two months into my junior year, my doctor gave me the worst news I had ever heard in my life: "You have a brain tumor." I could hardly comprehend what she was saying. My mind flew to the sad faces of bald cancer-stricken children I'd seen on T.V. and in American Cancer Society pamphlets. Surely cancer was something that only happened in movies and to other people, I had thought. It couldn't possibly be happening to me.
One week and two exploratory brain surgeries later, I was just beginning to come to accept my situation when fate struck me a second blow. "Due to its close proximity to the optic nerve, we can't remove your tumor surgically. You will have to undergo radiation therapy." Six weeks of daily radiation therapy in a hospital several hours away, to be exact. Outwardly I remained calm, but inwardly my mind bombarded me with objections. It's junior year! That's pretty much the most important year of high school! What about your clubs? Your activities? Your volunteer work? What about all your classes?
Once I got past the initial shock, I slowly began to see the circumstances in a different light. It was a test, I figured, a fight against an invisible enemy where only the strong would come out on top. I was fighting my cancer through the treatment, but at the same time I was also battling my own inner weaknesses. Without immediate deadlines or obligations, it would have been so easy to fall prey to lazy habits during those six weeks spent in a hotel all day every day. I had never had a gift for organization or time management, but my newfound determination to not let workload, or my health, spiral out of control quickly forced me to develop those skills. The hours I spent contacting my teachers, working with them to develop a system in which I could stay relatively caught up with the rest of my classmates, and coordinating all the assignments and tests I still needed to make up, coupled with the daily radiation, both exhausted and depressed me. But paradoxically, they also strengthened me and steeled my tenacity.
As quickly as they began, the six weeks were over. I had won the battle. I returned to school proudly brandishing the fruits of my efforts: my newly bald head, courtesy of the radiation, my grades, which I had not allowed to slip at all during the time I was gone, and a deep-rooted resolve that now that I had beaten this, I could do anything. I have come to accept that perseverance and sheer willpower can't cure my tumor, nor can they eliminate all my obstacles, but having these qualities certainly will help. Though the war is far from over-triannual MRI scans still reveal a tumor that may never completely disappear-I will continue to push forward, to fight for something better, and to treat each moment as something precious.
---
Whew! I just wrote this in one sitting, so it's definitely a little rough. I really wanted to do this subject, but I wasn't sure how exactly to approach it... I feel like it may be a little scattered. My biggest fear is that it will come off sounding cheesy or banal, so please let me know if it does anywhere! =\
Anyway, critique away!
