The Cancer Diaries

Cancer + 1: The Cancer Diaries Collected By: Bernice Samuels

1

2

Table of Contents Introduction

3

Chapter 1: Matt

4

Chapter 2: Kimberly

14

Chapter 3: Bernice

24

Chapter 4: Jermaine

34

Chapter 5: CoCo

42

Chapter 6: Rachel

50

Chapter 7: Greg

58

Chapter 8: Kwesi

72

Chapter 9: Brittany

76

The Book with No Conclusion

84

Acknowledgments

85

Meet the Authors

93

Meet the Graduated 3

95

Procedures

97

Introduction The pain and suffering that a patient with cancer goes through is astronomical. The pain affects you and the people around you mentally as well as physically. You would think it would be a crime to just live everyday life with no physical ailments, and just waste time while there are people that suffer all around the world from a disease, yet their regular day to day doesn't stop. These people still have families, bills and everything else life throws them.

So, with that being said, my question to you is, why waste time? The irony of this situation is from the moment you were born you were pressed for 4

time, because everyone that is born will suffer a death one way or another; it's inevitable. So why do we always wait until we are under pressure to start panicking and acting as if we are going to change? I don't believe there is a person on earth that isn't guilty of this. I actually believe it's human nature.

The involuntary function of living I think people can take too literal as well. Life can become an abyss and we can begin to drift so far that once many of us wake up we can no longer navigate back to the places that we once lost. But why? When we have so much fight? We have so many gifts, and many of us do not know how great we are until something happens to us. These diary entries are intended to uplift your minds as well as your thoughts as you empathize with some of our present and past 5

situations. Notice I said empathize and not sympathize, because no one is asking you to feel sorry for us. We are simply asking for you to try to understand our plights. These are the stories of 8 remarkable individuals and their plights as they navigate through Cancer and Multiple Sclerosis.

6

Chapter 1: Matt The day that my brother-in-law to be was diagnosed with Cancer is when I figured out I didn’t know shit about life. I was 24 years old. I was going to school in Chicago and my life was just beginning to get back on track. I play basketball, and outside of that I do not let many things in life effect me, but since basketball had been horrendous before his diagnosis I would have told you that my life was awful. Little did I know...

I am not an extremely emotional person, I am 7

more logical than anything I am told, but basketball has always been the thing I could go to for stability, and for that for the last few years ball has been a train wreck. Before the news of my brother’s cancer, I honestly thought that my circumstances were rough picture that. Here he is in the fight of his life and all I have to worry about is normal young black male issues friends getting killed, mother and father not speaking, all the while attempting to get passing grades so that I could play basketball In comparison to cancer I would soon find out that my life was a cake walk.

8

We often talk about life and what we want out of it. Often times we even go into detail about life owing us something as if the gift of life itself isn’t enough of a reward. Well, when you grow up the way that I did, you find out that life's objective is not the same as your own often times not even relative. When James and my sister started dating we were all kids. Being younger than James and my sister I looked up to them, watched their relationship from the ground up. I have vivid memories of them at the beginning of their 9

relationship because James was always around.

When I say around, I mean he just never went away. I have played basketball for most of my life, and the fact that James has been to more of my basketball games than my Father and many other family members combined should let you know about the type of relationship we had. I am a very outspoken but yet standoffish person, and James is very standoffish as well, so in the beginning, there would be conversation, but I still would give looks like ‘when is he going home?’ At this point, I couldn't have been any older than 11 or 12 (please 10

bear with me; my timetable in life is beyond awful and no, it's not drugs‌ I blame mother she's always forgetting something). My house consists of my mother, older brother, older sister, and 3 Cane Corsos: the goonies Smokey, Misty and Blue.

My mom always had an open house policy for our friends, especially the ones she liked, and with James there was no difference.

As I grew, so did the relationship between my sister and James, taking out of town trips to islands while they were still in high school. My 11

sister always thought she was fly. While that was going on, I went away to school on a basketball scholarship (I was 14) 3 hours away from where I lived in Virginia Beach. I know what you’re thinking-- “Who is this kids mother?” I promise you-Cassandra Samuels is an awesome woman.

Anyway, this is when I knew James and my sister were starting to be even more serious than I thought they were because when I had games out of town from Virginia Tech to the University of Virginia, he used to attend. At this point I guess I accepted him as family, but all I was really worried 12

about was playing ball so I was still like whatever.

I moved back home for my sophomore year of high school and eventually, James and I become a lot closer than we were when was as a kid. I started going to his apartment all the time so his little sister Crystal could braid my hair, she braided way too tight, but she was mean though. That's relevant because he extended that to me it became normal if I brought something up that I needed he would lend his services in any way that he could. I am a very family oriented person, and 13

these type of qualities are what draw me closer to people. As I got into high school ball and began to stand out, he would talk about me playing ball just as much as my sister and brother Shawn talked about it; they were all proud of the player I was becoming and all of them would be ay my games going crazy especially my sister. Around this time James drove a blue stanza. It was a stick shift. I hadn't gotten my license yet but James and my sister both had theirs. One night he decided to teach her how to drive his car because my sister had been talking trash about how she could drive 14

it if he gave her some time. James yells, “Matt!

Come outside and watch your sister!”

So I come out and sis is wrecking it. I mean, I know I'm no better, but she is stalling, the car is jerking, she didn’t even make it off the street. I’m dying laughing, and James has the serious face like he is really mad, and sis is just looking at him like whatever. These type of things started to happen more often, this became the norm. James had friends and family, but little would I know he was in search of family, and although dysfunctional at 15

times, our family bond was extremely strong. I knew at this point my sister was going to marry James, to the point now that I wouldn’t even ask.

I was a junior in high school playing basketball, receiving letters and full scholarship offers to a number of Division One universities, which all ended with a lawsuit between my mom and the school system as well as my coach at the time, over an incident where my coach gave me a drink that resulted to a 2 night stay in the hospital. I internalize most of my issues, but this one wasn't 16

to be internalized this particular situation made the newspaper, attempting to make me look like I drugged myself. Why is this relevant you ask? At the time, I had just broken through my past, and this situation resulted in me having 0 scholarships because the coach called all his friends in the business and advised them not to recruit me. So to many, this would be the end of a career, especially since I almost began to admire my perseverance, I felt like it took a gangster when I got past all of this and signed that Division one letter of intent.

17

Now you may not agree with the things I had to do in order for this to happen, but they were necessary. Now in order achieve to this goal, I had to fail the twelfth grade that was step one. Step two I enrolled in a prep school in North Carolina, and the purpose was to build a new name for myself. Unfortunately this process continued for 3 years. So it turned into three years, during that three years I attended three schools, along with a year completely at home, praying that I would sign a scholarship somewhere. I overcame this bad 18

hand I was dealt and turned it into a division one scholarship. Not to mention I also had trouble throughout this time with the SAT. In order to receive this scholarship I had to score a 820 on the SAT. Several people wanted me to get someone to take the SAT for me but I had to much pride, I didn’t want to leave thinking there was something that beat me. So instead I went thru the fire, this situation was creating a new person that wouldn’t take the short cut out to the point I didn’t recognize this dude at times. Through my trainer at the time Lez one of his guys heard about my 19

struggle and introduced to a SAT tutor named Ian Smith. A God send literally, someone who I could relate too. Ian helped me boost my score 180 points on the Sat so that I could attend this University and receive my scholarship, I will forever be in his debt for that.

Several changes are beginning to take place in my life starting with the school I attended my freshman year. My experiences will forever be cherished but this University didn’t feel home, it just didn’t work for me so I decided to transfer 20

schools.

Now January 2011, I am in the midst of receiving Division 1 scholarships and attending South Suburban Community College, and my coach John Pigatti is running the life out of me, because of it I am in the best shape of my life.

Along with the extreme running, I have to pass 21 credits in a semester to accept any scholarship that any school was offering. If I fail one class, my college dreams would be shattered. My brother at this time is living back at home in Maryland, and 21

has been having night sweats along with toothaches and some weight loss. Never being a big person to begin with, along with having some dental problems, we waved them off as some wisdom tooth problems. However, the night sweats continued. My mother would always comment on his weight as it continued to fluctuate. This would be alarming to normal people, since his diet consisted of canned tuna fish, frozen pizzas, Arizona’s, it wasn't that really alarming to us. My mother just continued to tell him to visit a doctor and he finally did, and that 22

was the moment we figured out their was a serious problem. After the test results they began to call his symptoms Lupus instead of Cancer. At this point we began to pray it was Lupus picture that praying for the lesser of the two evils. Upon more testing we figured out that he had Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

I was in school at the time, and it hit me hard. I honestly don't think I would've made it through those 21 credits as well as signing to a Division 1 University for basketball without his situation, 23

which motivated me timely motivation, to say the least. And as I mentioned my situation was bad to a normal person: Here I am, Unable to play in one game the entire season due to a prior situation with a school that isn’t even worth mentioning.

Praying a school will take a chance on me to play for them sight unseen. This seemed rough in my mind, but my brother was fighting cancer, so how the hell could I complain about MY problems?

Well, luckily, I passed all those classes, graduated with my associates and accepted a full scholarship to Chicago State University for basketball. This 24

summer, while I didn't realize it until now, would be the most vital time of my life between James and I.

I was settled in to college and James had moved into my mother’s house, which was no big change for me since he was over the house everyday anyway. This way I got to use his car whenever I wanted to switch it up. James kept a smacked out Charger on deck, which means the windows were tinted, for all those who don't understand the lingo. Anytime you stepped in his 25

whip, there was a BUNCH of down south music in his car. He would listen to Three 6 Mafia, 8Ball and MJG, Outkast, UGK to name a few. James and I connected in our love of music. I remember listening to Big Krit with him. We would always ride around bumping Krit "Return of 4 Eva" that was our on the way to the hospital Chemo music.

Bumping joints like "Time Machine" "Rotation" and "My Sub" and the "VENT" really the whole tape (Country ish) pulling up to Chemo bumping.

These were days I figured out people didn’t care about life. As I am waiting outside I am seeing 26

people that are fighting cancer smoking cigarettes.

I am just sitting there stuck like I know this has to be tough, your body is literally in prison. So do these people not care about life, or are they just fatigued?

James and I would just talk about any and everything, how when this whole cancer thing is over it's really time to start taking life seriously, not that we weren't before, but cancer just changes your perspective on life itself. I was in the passenger seat of it all, and it already had me 27

thinking differently so I couldn't imagine what James was thinking.

My sister bought a house while right before I graduated, so when I came back I lived with her James and my nephew, (yeah I know professional movers) Throughout this entire time I am going from home to school. James wasn't working and I was awarded the entire summer to stay home, which never happens when you play a collegiate sport. So that entire summer, I would take James to his Chemotherapy, Radiation and whatever else 28

he had to do, I would switch off when I wanted to give my sister and mom some relief. I built the kind of admiration for him that you would have to see to believe.

Many days, we would split the tasks of picking my nephew Maximus up from daycare. There would be times that I would tell him I would go get him because he was be exhausted from chemo, but he would still crawl up the steps throw a shirt on that boney back of his, and go and get his son. I remember the doctors changing his 29

entire diet, and telling him to eat vegetables and fruits as well as to get exercise. Chemo affects the way things taste, so the last thing you want when you can hardly keep food in your system would be some non-cooked vegetables, so instead we snuck cheat meals in, trust me it was this or nothing.

That summer I will say this that's the coldest and hottest I’ve ever been in my entire life. It's worse than your mother going thru menopause. All you would hear all day and night is, “Y’all not hot? Y’all not cold?” Mind you, James is the only one adjusting the temperature in the house. Several 30

nights I would wake up out of my sleep hearing him throw up. I honestly have no idea what he was throwing up because he ate so rarely. Our medicine cabinet looked like the drug aisle at your local Walgreens or CVS pharmacy. I mean, I couldn't even pronounce half of these drugs.

James would sleep all day long, to the point we had to get up and start taking walks between my workouts, to get him some fresh air, because he slept so much. One walk stands out the most, this walk is honestly when I remember saying I may 31

have just found out what life is about, and to date that's when I learned one of my best life lessons.

We must have walked the track for 2 hours it felt like, and he shared with me that he would beat cancer, but If he didn't he wanted me to take care of my sister and his son. He shared with me that I would get through all my obstacles in basketball, and become the person that I always wanted to become. I recall vividly when he said that he wanted to live for his son, and my sister, I was hesitant to respond. I do not know if I was right but I told him not to live for them, but to live for 32

his self because they would be taken care of regardless of his outcome. I know many people may think that’s harsh, but I think James understood where I was coming from, and never thought of it that way until I shared that with him.

I told him regardless of his outcome we will have to live, and we want him to be there for sure, but if he only wants to be there for us then he’s not living for himself and he has to fight the battle himself we can only support him. I believe we both learned a lot that day, because I promised him that they would be fine regardless, we all wanted to see 33

him recover. James shared with me that day that cancer can block your vision. Many people want to be rich and famous and what society deems as relevant, but the day you figure out that you have to fight something like cancer these things all become pointless. This day taught me that life itself is the greatest achievement of them all, and living it the right way for the longest amount of time and being productive is the best gift that you can give yourself or anyone. Not one time did James say to me ‘I never made it to this place or this country. I don't have any money in the bank or 34

that Ferrari.’ He simply said, “I want to live for your sister and my son,” and that was the realest statement that I had ever heard complete selflessness although I commented I was speechless.

There was so much said that day on the track, but the biggest message I want you to understand is that whatever you THINK is real doesn't exist when you are fighting for your life. Clothes, cars, girls, jewelry, boats, beefs, debt... None of these things exist when you are having hospital visits 35

lasting 2 months at a time, losing just about all of your muscle, and 65lbs of your weight. When you can’t keep food down ever and your tongue tastes like old scrap metal. Followed by operation after operation, the world is beyond minuscule, because survival is all that matters at that point and the ones that CARE FOR YOU! So my only purpose of sharing the contents of our walk is this, ask yourself what REALLY MATTERS’? What do YOU WANT IN LIFE? What will make YOU HAPPY? Because if tragedy hits, you don't want to have been living life for someone else. Honestly, I don't 36

think James ever lived for anyone else. I just believe that he would've wanted to take a few things more seriously.

After this summer, I left and went to school and had one of my best years on and off the court, because I was motivated and purpose driven, and I prayed that every time I left that he would still be there when I returned. Although he couldn't make a game every time I played, he would watch on TV and send me inspirational text messages. I returned from Chicago State with my degree that 37

next year and James was still fighting for his life.

At this point tumors had grown and the cancer had traveled little did we know. For graduate school, I decided to go to California to finish my last year of basketball, and before I left, we had a fun filled summer of moving. I hate moving. James and I seemed to be professional movers at this point because my sister always had us moving. I remember James and I almost fought one night because he continued to press furniture on his catheter he hadn't eaten and we had been moving all day long. I know what you’re thinking that's 38

stupid he has cancer, right? Right but you text and drive at high speeds. Anyway, he sat down after I told him we were gonna fight. We eventually got through the moving later the next day. This summer seemed to go by so fast for some reason, and James was still fighting cancer when I left for my first year of grad school, I didn’t know what to think, all I could do was just pray that he would get better.

By this time my sister was missing entire work weeks. She had changed his medical insurance 39

from Maryland to DC then DC didn't want to cover his expenses, so it was back to Maryland. I noticed the toll it was taking on her from the phone calls, and here I am just chasing my dream while their dreams are falling apart. It felt selfish of me.

Whenever I called or Face-timed, he would be all smiles and tell me he watched me play and keep doing my thing. By this time my sister was wellresearched into cancer and there was a walk coming up called Light the Night and low and behold it was in Washington D.C. I knew that this cancer was real and he was battling; the least I 40

could do was make this event. So my sister coordinated it, made up some T-Shirts and sent me the samples of the shirts, and I told her that I would make it, but she never told James. So I fly back for his event, this entire time he's trying to figure out why I am home, and when I tell him it's because of his walk James couldn't believe it. He started crying not in front of me though that not how we got down. These tears were tears of joy and appreciation because he didn't know how to feel about me flying from California just for his walk It just overwhelmed him.

41

This night I will never forget. James my sister and I drove down to the walk late as usual, everyone was there before us and as we arrived we come to find out none of his friends made it. This isn't any disrespect to anyone but that's bullshit but that’s none of my business though (Kermit Voice). Anyway, we get out there and I think all the lights and balloons and people overwhelmed my brother because he finally knew he wasn't alone in this fight, I remember him running up to me after he had walked around saying there is a young dude 42

over there that has the same thing I have, just got finished talking to him and his pops man they were too cool. It was a great feeling to look at his amazement and share that with him. We left the walk, went and got some food and a movie, and just stayed up talking until we all passed out.

(Backtracking just to enlighten you about that night he walked and he was extremely cold and complained about his back all night, so I gave him my hoodie. He was tired as well but that was normal, come to find out the next diagnosis we 43

were told he had 2 tumors on his spine and that’s why his back was hurting the entire night. So next time you are complaining about something, I want you to keep that in mind.

As I said before, James never really followed what was (IN) and that I respected about him. I love to dress and he talks about the way I dressed every time I put clothes on. Several months after he passed, my mother found 2 letters that James wrote to me and my older brother Shawn. In my letter, James told me to take care of his son but, 44

and I quote him, " DO NOT DRESS HIM LIKE YOU BECAUSE YOUR PANTS BE TOO TIGHT!" This coming from James when he had been in the hospital towards the end, so this just shows he NEVER lost his spirit or who he was at any time.

Granted everyday wasn’t sunshine he had bad days as well just like anybody, but If he can go through the fight of his life and still have this attitude, you and I have no excuse to complain.

I flew back one more time, and this time James was very weak. He slept most of the time I was 45

there. There was one thing that got him out of bed and gave my mother my sister and James one of the best laughs we ever shared together. The Bus driver uppercut video that was circulating online, when he told that girl (You going to jail now) and hit her I promise James died laughing. I'm sorry, but that was just our sense of humor. I ran upstairs and made him watch it. This made James laugh so hard he got out of bed came downstairs we all watched it together, and we all laughed for five minutes. I mean that video gave him life, literally. I suck with dates so these are just 46

scattered thoughts and memories, but I went back to California and I really had a heavy heart that entire year. We Face-timed and continued texting, until my sister called me one night and said that James died for 5 seconds during his transplant but he came back to life, and the doctors said they don't know what to expect next. James had been waiting on that transplant that was supposed to be the game changer.

We just sat there on the phone together and vowed to just fight for each other and fight for 47

him. My sister is my best friend, so hearing how she sounded and what James was going thru just made time sit still. A few weeks go by and I got the phone call I never wanted to receive, I was lying in my bed, and I would always count the time difference from pacific time to eastern standard, because this would often let me know why I was being called. This particular phone call felt off so I answered and my sister tells me that James died. It must have been one of our shortest conversations ever, we both got off the phone distraught. I also felt like I failed him because I was not having my 48

best year and to blame him would be an excuse it just was an awful year, and I see why because It would be the year that he passed away 2013 was the WORST!!!!!!!!!!

His death made me feel the most indifferent that I have ever had felt. I was coming home and he wouldn't be there, I immediately just began to think about conversations and my nephew and sister that I told him I would take care of. And as much as I wanted him here, he fought harder than I ever fought for anything in life and I was proud 49

and respected him to the fullest. In my mind, he won. He won because where he is there is no sickness. He left me here to take care of my sister and nephew, and he left us with the inspiration to bring you these diaries as well as a piece of all of our lives. James left me understanding that life will never be about me again, or selfish goals and things that won’t matter once you get them. He left me understanding that you make your mark in this world by infecting someone with life itself, the true meaning of it. I feel that every person's story 50

you will read will infect your brain, drive understanding, and cause motivation. The motivation to do the unthinkable, because there are some amazing people that you are about to hear from. Understand that James’ time spent here was not in vain, and every story that you are going to read will and has not ended the way that his has. Nonetheless, I have a 6-year-old nephew named Maximus Orion Watts that I help raise and without James infecting my mind with his drive, his fight, and his spirit, I would not be able to take care of his most prized possession. I would never 51

be able to infect these great Fighters that you are about to hear from, without James. I say infect because we are affected by cancer, but through the memory of James Rudolph Watts I am forever Infected by cancer and infected with the disease of life. I can only hope that every reader that we touch is affected by these words as much as Cancer has Infected these authors.

I love everyone that will read these words, because you have supported this project, and I am forever indebted to you. I have no idea where this 52

project will lead me in my future, but if this project touches people the way that we intend it to, always understand that I will do everything in my power to help this cause. I will step out of my element for this project.

I leave you with something that I wrote while finishing this project. This is something that I feel is a reflection of my perspective that I feel should be spread through the way that cancer and James Rudolph “Juice” Watts infected my thinking.

"I FEEL LIKE SUCCESS SHOULD BE DEFINED

BY HOW MANY PEOPLE YOU HELP ONCE 53

YOU BECOME SUCCESSFUL. BUT SUCCESS IS RELATIVE EVERYONE HAS HAD SUCCESS ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. I WANT TO PROMOTE SELFLESS SUCCESS YOU CAN KEEP SELFISH SUCCESS. BECAUSE SELFISH SUCCESS REQUIRES ME TO WATCH YOU, IT ALSO PROMOTES ENVY AND JEALOUSY WHICH ARE CLOSE RELATIVES TO HATE. SELFLESS SUCCESS GIVES PEOPLE AN OPPORTUNITY TO BENEFIT FROM YOUR SUCCESSES WHICH PROVIDES HOPE SHOWS HUMILITY AND PROMOTES LOVE".

-Matt Samuels

54

Chapter 2: Kimberly As an average teenager, I had a part-time job and was in school pursuing a nursing degree. I considered myself pretty healthy. Well, a pretty healthy person who would end up in the hospital for occasional vomiting episodes. Never could I have imagined that these episodes would be a symptom of something big, something that would change my perspective on life forever.

Spring semester was almost done when I started to feel sick, sicker than my usual ‘face in the toilet’ vomiting episodes. I took an ordinary trip to the bathroom and was met with a horrible burning sensation, something I had never felt before. I was 55

surprised, but didn’t think much of it. My mom said I probably had a Urinary Tract Infection (UTI) and not to worry. But I did worry. Nothing about what I was feeling felt common, and the burning sensation turned into lower abdomen pain. The pain left me walking funny, and it was so obvious that my sibling laughed at me for moving like an old person. Mom took me to the local clinic for a checkup. My urine test results had the doctors guessing I had appendicitis or a kidney problem and I was sent home and told to see my primary doctor for a follow up. Mom drove me home but we weren’t there for long. That night I spiked a fever and she took me to the emergency room with no clue what was happening to me. I was officially worried.

56

I was studying to be a nurse and, up until this point, had never been a patient in the hospital. Being on the receiving end of treatment was strange and uncomfortable, especially given my fear of needles.

The first thing the doctors did was poke me a bunch of times and run tests. No luck- they still couldn’t figure out what was wrong. They ordered me a bunch of scans and something called a Laparoscopy.

For the Laparoscopy they had to cut into my side and insert a camera to look around and take a biopsy. Everything was happening so fast. The results of the biopsy landed me in an Oncologists office a few days later.

On April 13, 2009, the Oncologist came into my room and told me I had a disease called 57

Pseudomyxoma Peritonei (PMP). I thought to myself “I have Pseudo what?” PMP is a rare disease that originates from the appendix that affects 1 in a million people per year. What are the odds? When I thought of being 1 in a million in anything, I thought of winning the lottery or becoming famous, not being diagnosed with rare disease. Nobody ever thinks that. To make things worse, the doctor couldn’t tell me how I got the disease. He just knew it wasn’t hereditary, that the prognosis was poor, and that it usually went misdiagnosed. I didn’t take the diagnosis seriously at first. Folks walk around every day with strange rare diseases and are able to live normal lives. I figured I would be fine. It wasn’t until I realized PMP was not “just” a disease but a rare type of cancer that I realized how big this thing 58

was. Adding that one word “cancer” to my diagnosis made everything different and I knew I wasn’t fine.

I was referred to a well-known Oncologist/OBGYN and underwent another round of exhaustive tests, which meant lots of pokes with needles and more scans. I was tired, overwhelmed, and clearly not fine. I already felt defeated when the doctor came in to review my results and treatment plan. I didn’t question or challenge anything he told me. My brain at that point was exhausted from trying to process everything that had happened to me in the last few weeks. I simply thanked him for his time and agreed with his suggested treatment. I had no energy to do anything but trust that he would take care of me.

59

On April 23, 2009 I was admitted to the hospital for surgery and left the operating room without my left ovary, 1/3 of my colon, my appendix, a grapefruit sized tumor, and all the mucin inside my peritoneum. This cancer was literally tearing me apart; I could feel it. I was devastated and woke up from surgery in the worst pain of my life. On a scale of 1 to 10 my pain level was 99 and the nurses were at a loss for how to help me. I was eventually given an epidural (yes, what pregnant ladies get before birth), and I remember squeezing the hand of the male nurse standing next to me so hard trying to distract myself from the pain. It didn’t work, and my hate for needles grew as I felt every inch of that thing go into my back.

60

I was an 18-year-old girl, fresh out of high school, trying to start life as an adult. I had a boyfriend and a family that loved me. I never imagined that my first brush with medicine would be as a patient. Being placed in the Pediatric ICU after surgery reminded my doctors and I how young I really was trying to fight a disease that was having no mercy on me despite my age. My mom was by my side the whole time. I know she was worried but I couldn’t comfort her; I was going through hell and I couldn’t think past the pain.

While in the hospital, I remember waking up one night to my mom slapping my face. I was totally confused. I kept screaming at her and insisting that 61

she let me rest. Once I gained full consciousness, I learned that she was trying to wake me up because my vitals had bottomed out to 0 and I had flatlined.

I had been literally dead for a few moments and she was frantically trying to wake me up. It became clear that this cancer was not going to cut me any breaks.

As time went on, the drama of my complications from surgery did not fade. Surgery left me with a bladder and bowel fistula, in addition to me having urine and stool seeping out of my incision. Nasty, right?

Once they considered me “stable,� I was sent home with a urinary catheter. The doctors hoped the catheter would prevent the urine and stool from seeping through my incision and I ended up having 62

to live with that thing for months. However, it didn’t work, and my condition became worse. Back to the hospital I went, staying for weeks at a time and never getting any closer to normal. I missed being normal. I grew frustrated and angry at being what I considered a permanent fixture in the hospital. I was lonely and felt left behind. My family and friends were all on the outside having normal lives and I was stuck in a hospital bed with cancer doing whatever it pleased to my body. My family came to visit for holidays, but it was clearly not the same; I didn’t feel like celebrating anything. I was a prisoner in the hospital and a prisoner to my body. Depression set in hard-core as the news from the doctors became more and more unclear. They had no idea what to

63

do with me, and had no clear answers about what cancer was doing with my body.

Another surgery was scheduled to repair my bladder and bowel fistula. I was down to only one ovary and given my track record with surgery, I knew there would be complications, so I made a request. I wanted the eggs in my remaining ovary to be frozen so that I could regain a bit of hope for the future and one day be able to have kids. Devastation set in instantly when the doctor told me flat out that saving my eggs would not be possible if I wanted to have surgery. I kept repeating to myself what he told me, “If I wanted to have surgery?� I mean, there was really no choice for me. I could either have the surgery and never become a mom, or I could die 64

trying to freeze my eggs and still never be a mom. I became a teenager that would never be a mom.

Most kids at my age try very hard to not get pregnant, but understand that later on in life they can exercise that choice if they wanted to. That same choice was no longer available to me and I was once again different from everyone else. I felt isolated and alone. I remember crying on my way to the hospital for surgery, I had no words. My mom and aunt were joking around saying “You wouldn’t want to have kids anyway. They’re a pain in the butt.” I knew they are trying to make me feel better, but still… cancer took away my hope and I was literally hopeless as the doctors prepared me for surgery. I left the operating room with more of my colon removed and my last ovary gone. The surgery 65

failed and I was sent home with a Wound Vac. For a month I used the Wound Vac to try and “fix� my surgery complications-- another process that landed me in a bunch of pain. I could literally see the inside of my abdomen.

Depression was a constant for me, with my reasons why growing every day. A Psychiatrist was added to my long list of attending doctors and I shared with her how beyond angry and distraught I was that this cancer had to happen to me. I wanted her to listen. She kept asking me if I ever had suicidal thoughts, which I thought was a weird thing to ask, but I kinda understood given my current state. Even with all that cancer had handed me, I had never thought of taking my own life. There were 66

times that I told God to just take me so I didn’t have to suffer anymore, but I never considered taking my own life. I wanted to live but needed her help making it out of the dark place I was currently living in. She didn’t listen. On her order, my family began hiding my prescription pain meds thinking I would overdose on purpose. I told them I wasn’t suicidal but they didn’t listen, either. I was helpless.

Cancer made me feel ugly and useless. As a healthy person I was 5’6 and 125 pounds. As a person with cancer I was down to 87 pounds and I looked like a skeleton. I was weak. Mom would encourage me to go to the mall and hang with my friends all the time. She wanted me to feel normal again. I wouldn’t go; I hid from the world. I didn’t want 67

anyone to see me and I didn’t want them to think I looked this way because I refused to eat or something. Cancer did this to me.

Three years later my weight eventually started to come back. I managed to stay out of surgery and started to feel normal again. By October 2012, I was back in school and working. Constant checkups became normal, as did my elevated tumor markers.

The doctors didn’t seem alarmed by my test results so I didn’t worry. One night I remember coming home starving from school like usual, because we weren’t allowed to eat in class. Mom made dinner and we ate together like we normally did and went to bed. That same night I woke up with horrible stomach pain which sent me to the bathroom 68

throwing up like crazy. The next morning I was still feeling sick, but I had to get up and go to school for mandatory clinicals. The last thing I remember was putting on my scrubs and then strangely waking up in the emergency room. Mom told me I was in the hospital because when she came to check on me that morning before I went to school, she found me passed out on the floor. I was too shocked to be worried at that moment. Because I was totally dehydrated from a night spent throwing up, the nurses were struggling to find a vein. My fear of needles was consuming me as the nurses attempted 10 times to start an IV. The usual suspect tests were ordered and I waited for hours to hear the results.

The doctor came in and put her hand on my leg. She had this horribly sad look on her face and said, “I’m 69

sorry, but your cancer is back.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How did this happen? The doctors said not to worry, but now my cancer was back and taking away the little bit of normal I had in my life AGAIN. I started bawling my eyes out. Mom was crying next to me. I felt transported back 3 years and lost sight of all the normal living I had been experiencing recently. I was back to being an abnormal cancer patient.

I needed to vent. Seeing a psychiatrist earlier in my treatment did more harm than good. She didn’t help. I just needed someone to talk to, someone that would actually listen. I logged on to Facebook. My sharing was met with a flood of encouragement from my Facebook friends. Their kind words made 70

me stop crying and my feeling of isolation and loneliness faded. Finally, I felt supported. I couldn’t help but think of my family and my boyfriend, the people who had been with me since the beginning of my diagnosis. I was not alone in this fight against cancer.

My cancer was back, and I had flashbacks to the surgeries when I was first diagnosed. When I arrived I learned that my oncologist was out of the country.

Hearing about his absence didn’t seem like a big deal: I figured another doctor would step in and take care of me. Nope. The other doctors refused to perform the surgery without my out-of-town doctor’s consent or presence. What? There was a GI surgeon who agreed to address my small bowel 71

obstruction issue but would not mess with my cancer. After looking at my scans, he told me that removing the tumors wasn’t even an option because they were everywhere. Everywhere?

The surgeon worked with 20 other doctors and pathologists at the hospital to come up with a treatment recommendation. I was prescribed systemic chemotherapy with hope that my tumors would shrink. A specialist was also recommended for my case, but he would not be available for treatment until March 2013. All I could do was wait and hope that the chemo did its job. In December 2012, when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, I started 4 cycles of chemo and it literally made me feel like crap from head to toe. The least of my 72

problems were the constant nausea and vomiting.

My biggest issue was the Neuropathy that set in on arms, legs, hands and feet, turning them black. I was sensitive to the cold (not to mention it was winter in Chicago). I got tired so easily. I passed out when I showered and was beginning to lose my hair.

In March 2013, I found out that the chemotherapy didn’t even work. The tumors had not grown anymore, but they did not shrink. I was devastated, I did everything that they told me to do, I endured the pain of chemo, thinking it would be worth something in the end. My pain was worth nothing and I was still as sick as I was before chemotherapy. They took my case in front of 20 doctors-- 20 medically trained professionals-- and 73

collectively they couldn’t help me. All I could think was that I went through all this for nothing. By now it’s March and the specialist recommended for my case was finally in. After 3 months of waiting, he ended up being no help and simply reiterated that I had tumors everywhere. They were on my liver, spleen, diaphragm, rectum, small and large intestines, uterus and bladder. I was just in awe and all I could do was cry. I stopped crying long enough to leave the hospital and go home. At home I totally broke down in front of Mom. She couldn’t handle it and was so upset. I tried to comfort her by promising I would only cry that night, and that tomorrow I would be ok without the tears.

74

My perspective on life was forever changed. I was so used to taking life for granted. Totally selfish, I only cared about myself. I focused on the negative of every situation when I should have been counting my blessings. It wasn’t until life felt out of my control that I started to appreciate it and the people around me. I met a 10-year-old kid from the Philippines through Instagram. He, too, was fighting for his life, and inspired me so much. Chemo left him bald and the whole left side of his body from his hip down to his foot was removed. Finding a reason to smile was impossible for me those days and I often wondered how he found the smile captured in each of his Instagram pictures. He taught me that pictures were worth a thousand words, and fear was not one of his words. Powerful. As corny as it may 75

sound, knowing that he was going through something similar really did help me and for once, I didn’t feel alone. He inspired me to fight my cancer with a smile; I was finally living again. By embracing the positive things in my life, I became like my 10year-old hero that inspired me and I started sharing my story with others. My posts didn’t go unnoticed and I had a social media family that spanned the world. We prayed for each other. Strangers sent me flowers, rosaries and bracelets that were blessed by the Pope. All the random acts of kindness melted my heart. I prayed to God, thanking him for waking me up everyday, for all the blessings, and for all the people that cared about me.

76

A month after chemo failed, I was scheduled for what would be my most complicated surgery to date. My 4th surgery was 13 hours long and the doctors didn’t think I was stable enough to make it out alive. They removed both sides of my diaphragm, my spleen, ¼ of my liver, and parts of both my small and large intestines. Shortly after surgery my lungs collapsed, and I went back to the ICU. More chest tubes were inserted in my sides. Even though I was sedated, the pain meds didn’t work. I could still feel every single tube going in me, including the one they shoved down my throat. I went to sleep with surgery complications and woke up completely disabled. I was totally confused. Eventually, I realized that what felt like the next morning was actually a month later and it was now June. They had placed 77

me in a medically induced coma because I couldn’t breathe on my own. I had a tracheotomy and was on a ventilator. Unable to communicate or walk, I was transferred to a rehabilitation center for speech, physical and occupational therapy.

I was confined to another hospital room for a month, and I was in a bad emotional space. Never wanting to see my reflection, I stayed away from the mirror; I just knew I looked so ugly and terrible. My weight dropped to 80 pounds (45 pounds below my normal weight). During rehab, my focus was to learn basic functions like hand and eye coordination. For the longest time I wasn’t able to even lift my hand to my head. One day I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the phone and noticed that I was totally 78

bald. I was outraged. I asked my mom why she hadn’t told me about my hair. She knew how much I cared about how I looked-- sometimes more than my health-- and she didn’t want to break my spirit with all that I was going through. My hair was all I had left that distinguished me from all the other cancer patients. Now I had nothing.

I was home by the end of June 2013 and managed to gain more than 10 pounds. Not having hair was a big issue for me so I wore wigs. I was doing better with learning my basic movements and was starting to gain confidence in my ability, when pain developed in my lower abdomen and stool started seeping out when I urinated. Gross. My first thought was “This can’t be happening right now.

79

What else could happen that hasn’t already?” Back to the hospital I went to have a bunch of tests done.

I was hospitalized multiple times just to have IV Dilaudid because I couldn’t take the pain anymore.

After the tests and scans, the doctor told me that I had a tumor on my bladder and uterus, both the size of a papaya. There was no time to remove them and work on my lower abdomen area, because I had so many tumors and I couldn’t be under anesthesia for more than 13 hours. My only option was for them to work on the top half of my abdomen. My rectum and uterus were added to the list of organs that cancer took from me. When they took out the tumors, part of my bladder was taken out as well.

Losing my ovaries took with it my hope for having my own children, and losing my uterus ended my 80

hope for motherhood all together. I felt like a science project. I left surgery with a temporary colostomy bag and I hated it. I felt so ugly and I just knew my boyfriend was going to leave me for someone that was pretty with less drama. He promised he wouldn’t and never left my side. He has been there for me since day 1 of my diagnosis.

It’s now 2014 and I’m fully aware that my fight with cancer is not yet over. I have learned a great deal about my strength and am developing a true appreciation for life with the help of my support system. Since my last surgery I actually am doing okay. Gaining weight is still a priority for me, along with keeping my hemoglobin up and platelets down.

In spite of everything that I’ve been though-- I mean 81

everything-- I still push to live a happy life and to make the best of what I have been blessed with. My journey with cancer has taught me to find the good even in bad times, and that life is too short to be anything but happy. People might say my life is miserable, but even if it is, I chose not to live it miserably. I have a lot less organs than most people, but I have one big amazing heart. I know why God choose me to fight this disease, he wants me to bring hope to people and to help them realize that life is beautiful and shouldn’t be taken for granted. I choose social media as my way to share my story and inspire others. I spend a lot of energy reaching out to fellow cancer patients and learning their perspective on life gives me the best feeling.

82

I am very thankful for my family, friends, my boyfriend, and the complete strangers that constantly support me. I want to give special thanks my mother, Susan Formales, who has sacrificed everything for me and has never left my side. I was not the best daughter a parent could ever ask for, but she treated me like I was.

I know my purpose in this world, and that is to help others. Once I am cancer free, I will finish nursing school and become an oncology nurse. By sharing my story I hope to inspire patients to fight because cancer is just a word, not a sentence.

83

“I may not have the best life, but I’m trying to make the best out of it.”

Kim Formales

84

Chapter 3: Bernice

I remember wiping my tears and calling my little brother outside the emergency room. The conversation went something like, “We were built for this, we are Samuels and we fight.â€? I repeated the same thing over and over again, trying to convince both of us that we would make it to the other side of this news. My insides instantly became hollow and I was terrified. I started to walk back to where my fiancĂŠ was in the emergency room and everyone started staring at me. Was I talking really loud? Was my wig tilted? Could they tell from looking at me that today was the worst day of my 26 years on earth? The security guard called two nurses over and blocked me from entering the ER. I was 85

told to sit down and that everything would be ok. Eventually I figured out that blood was all over my face from a slash in my hand that I got from a piece of glass outside. It was dripping everywhere. I’m sure people assumed that I was either a domestic violence victim or just plum crazy.

Reality was I had just gotten the news that the love of my life had cancer, some type of lymphoma nodular “s” something. All I could do was wander outside alone in the dead of winter in Maryland, drop to my knees, and ask God why.

Before the news hit, I was a 26-year-old mother of one amazing son, Maximus. James (I called him Juice when he was on my nerves) and I had been together for 11 years and we were engaged. Life was 86

good. I had my Master’s degree and was working on my doctorate, and James had just started his locksmith business. We had finally set a wedding date. We were happy. We were a super fun couple who traveled at the drop of a hat. In our 11 years together we went to Hawaii, Jamaica, Mexico, Puerto Rico, and all over the US. Never able to sit still, we went skiing and bungee jumping, definitely a turnup couple. I’m not going to lie: like any normal couple, we had our share of drama. But we both knew that it was us against the world, and we were fine. Together, we were the best people and James was my best friend- hands down.

In October 2010, James started to lose weight aggressively for seemingly no reason. He was always 87

naturally thin, but this new low weight had me worried. To explain his new physique, I looked for a secret gym pass, and investigated possible changes in his diet, but found nothing. November came and he started to mention joint pain. Sleeping became a nightmare as he constantly complained of being hot or cold and sometimes would sweat at night (we later figured out he was having night sweats). This went on for a little while before he finally gave in to my mom and I nagging him to go to the doctor.

After an hour-long wait, which lead to an "extensive" 15-minute evaluation, the doctor at the clinic scheduled a test for Lupus. Lupus? “Oh, Lawd,” I thought. He walked out of that office as if he were given 24 hours to live. He was completely devastated. He said, “Lupus?” I looked him in the 88

face and assured him that no matter what the tests determine, I would never leave his side. He looked back at me, simply said, “I know,� and smiled. We went through a series of five Lupus tests, and each one came back negative. That plus our expert Google searches about Lupus had us feeling good again *cue praise dance music*.

In December 2010, James noticed a lump on his neck. At this point, the hot/cold and night sweats had not stopped and his weight was still lower than normal. Something seemed off, and since he was never one for the doctor visits, I tricked him into going. A close friend, Nikkia, was pregnant and had some recent health scares. She needed a ride to the doctor, so I asked James to ride with me for moral 89

support. At the doctor’s office, I went up to sign Nikkia in, but also sign in James. “Got him,” I thought. Nikkia was fine: she was just pregnant and being dramatic. James, on the other hand, was being seen by a number of doctors for this new-found lump. When they insisted on further testing, I knew something was very wrong. They first thought Lyme disease, and then that thought turned to the possibility of cancer. The doctor understood the power of the “c” word and didn’t want to sound any alarms until he was absolutely certain. James was transported to the hospital in an ambulance; he was angry, to say the least. I wasn’t able to ride with him, so we talked on the phone the whole way. He wanted me by his side the whole time and I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. We were young, new 90

parents, and black, which never equaled cancer risk in our minds. That day left us both scared and confused.

After being transferred, he had his first biopsy of the lump on his neck, which left him with a mean scar. The tissue had to be sent out for testing, and the results would not be ready for a few hours. I didn't sleep the whole night. We sat up and talked about everything. When he finally fell asleep, I went into the bathroom in the hospital hallway and got on my knees and said every prayer that I could think of. I wept. Crying couldn’t relieve what I was experiencing; my whole soul was involved. I wept while asking God to spare us, pleading with him that

91

this be over soon, hoping that us being in the hospital was all a mistake.

After a long and very emotional night, the doctor came back with the results. James was diagnosed with Stage 4 Hodgkin's Lymphoma Nodular Sclerosis, which out the gate was present on his lungs and liver. My whole body went numb.

All I could think about was the wedding books in my bag and the future they represented for us. I kept my poker face on and held James as he broke down.

Holding him tighter and tighter I kept telling him, “We got this. You are going to be good. Don’t worry.” I wanted to believe it. The doctor laid out James’s treatment plan and told us he could be in full remission after eight months of 2-week ABDV 92

cycles. After 11 years together, eight months was nothing; soon we would be back to business as usual. I took a deep breath and just knew that eight months’ time would go by fast. We had this.

Decisions had to be made right away. Chemo was the first scheduled treatment, so we had to go through the port placement process. James and I wanted another baby and had been trying to conceive after recently losing a child. Before starting chemo, we wanted to go through the sperm preservation process, but the doctor said there was no time. James was at risk of dying if treatment didn’t start right away. Instantly, our future seemed foggy. Dying? That just didn't make sense to me; he didn't look like someone who was dying. We were 93

young and had a future planned. Death wasn’t even on our minds. Already, cancer was getting in our way. The doctor followed up by telling us we should try again in a year, assuming his sperm count would return to normal. I have never been a fan of the word “should” and found myself totally irritated. All I could say to the doctor was, “We all SHOULD drink 8 glasses of water a day, but how many have you had today?” His response was minimal and he stressed the seriousness of James’s illness and how immediate action was needed. So we moved forward with treatment and ended up never having that second chance at sperm preservation.

Being James’s advocate became my top priority.

As part of hearing the news, we were handed a 94

pamphlet similar to the one in the back of airplane seats that no one reads. I thought sarcastically to myself, “This is awesome-- everything that I need to know about cancer is in this tri fold pamphlet covered with bald old people.” There was not one black person in the tutorial pamphlet, by the way.

Maximus needed us, and I was determined to learn everything about cancer to save James’s life, and my life as well. Once James’s chemotherapy started, Google became my best friend and my first search was for natural cures for cancer. A whole bunch of weed plants popped up. James was thrilled at the idea. I assured him that I would be locked up by lunchtime if I attempted to bring that back on an airplane. We laugh and joked about it for days after I “fixed” my Google searches. I researched natural 95

cures and bought everything I could find, including Seaweed, Dead Sea salt, vitamins, sugarless and organic food only. We stopped using the microwave.

My Dad even bought a “drink” back from South America. How he got the drink on a plane past customs is beyond me. Chemotherapy started to take its toll, so James shaved his head, and I shaved mine with him. I was all in with him. I wanted to do my part, so I read about cancer for hours each day.

As a student, I knew how to research and was honestly hoping to find something new and different that would save my baby’s life. I had to do my part so we could beat this.

The first six months of chemo were promisingor so we thought- so imagine my shock when the 96

doctors told us that James’ cancer was spreading instead of getting better. I was on fire. You mean to tell me that I have been in this hospital every other week, dealing with these awful side affects, and the cancer is spreading? James had now relapsed. The cancer had created a legion on his liver. My heart began to break and I shoved my anger at the doctor (who assured us that we were eight months away from healthy living) who insisted, “Hodgkins is the cancer to pick if you could choose a cancer”. Who says something as insensitive as suggesting that this is the cancer to pick if you had to choose one? “I am sorry-- if I was choosing I would choose be sexy for life and win the lottery, you whack job!” I fired at the doctor (among other words). I wasn't as mad at the doctor as I was at the false sense of hope that I felt 97

that he gave us. Regardless, I had to gather myself and get ready for round two.

I have never been the negative type, so I was back on my push to the finish. But James wasn’t ‘team fight.’ This time, he was more like team ‘fuck it.’ James received his new plan: three rounds of ICE, which would put him into remission and give us time to do an autologous stem cell transplant-- his only chance of kicking this thing for good. Because his cancer was not responsive to the first chemo, he was admitted to a DC hospital for his first round of ICE, a three-day chemotherapy treatment. This ICE this was no joke. His first day on his new chemo, we were talking and his machine started to go off. The nurses ran into the room with the defibrillator; the 98

chemo was sending his heart to into shock. They were waiting to see if his heart would stop. They stayed there for a while until everything went back to normal. I made a beeline to the nurse station and demanded to see the attending doctor. I simply said, “Every time we do what you all say, things get worse.

Now his heart is stopping. Do you all have clue what you are doing?� Needless to say, I was the coined the angry black woman on that floor. I slept so close to him that night I have no clue how he could even breathe. I had never contemplated death or losing him. I never allowed my mind to go down that pathever. But for the first time, I kinda thought we were losing and I might not get that house in St Maartens that we were going to grow old in.

99

James was falling apart in front of me, and it seemed like no one could help him. I was by his side but I couldn’t take the cancer away. No one could. My baby was crawling up the stairs to get around the house. I never cried in front of him. I would always cry to myself at night when his meds would kick in and I knew he couldn't hear me. I didn't want him to think he was losing this battle. I couldn't have him think that. They had recommended the ICE treatment to put him in remission and a stem cell transplant. He now had an aggressive form of cancer that wasn't responsive to the normal treatment. But ICE is the real deal, and I knew it. The ICE made him completely bald and thin, but he was in remission, so I was jumping for joy.

Finally!! Something they told us to do worked.

100

We went in to talk about the autologous stem cell transplant and meet our new team, but the only person that came to our appointment was our oncologist. Confused, I joked, “Doc! We love you to death, but where is our team? You are clearly missing a few people!”

She said. “Bernice, let me talk to you outside.”

James looked puzzled. I promised him I would be right back and I wouldn't flip any tables. The doctor and I stepped outside the room. She said, “Unless you get MD insurance or have $150K somewhere, James can’t get the transplant in DC. It’s not considered medically necessary.”

101

For a minute, I couldn’t think straight. “I am sorry…

WHAT??” *cue angry black woman theme music* “You are shitting me!” I yelled (eyes closed with the handclaps). I couldn't believe it. They are going to let him relapse because they don't think is medically necessary- despite what the doctors say.

She said, “It’s only covered in Maryland, and you don't have much time.”

So I scrambled to get him Maryland insurance. I jumped through a bunch of hoops. In the end, 102

however, we got it. We were successful. We met the new team and, because of our delay, we were up against the clock. They stressed the importance of James not smoking in order to successfully receive the transplant. I took him to a hypnotist, acupuncturist, and bought him everything I could find so that he could stop smoking for 30 days to prepare for his transplant. He promised me that he had stopped; I believed him. Three times, we went in for the pre workup for his transplant. Three times over a two month period, he tested positive for tobacco and marijuana. After the third time we walked back to the car and I was completely silent.

That day, I realized I hadn't been a good mom in months. I was living at the hospital part time, letting 103

the cancer beat me. Honestly, I was scared. We got to the corner in front of the hospital.

Suddenly, and I threw my bag on the ground, faced James, and said “Fight me”.

He looked at me with this look; he knew that I wasn't playing. I asked him if he knew how serious this situation was. I felt taken for granted.

“If you die, our son would take me for granted. I will forever live in ‘I wish my dad was here.’ On top of dealing with losing you, I will forever live in your shadow. Do you get that? You have cancer. That's why I am giving you a heads up: I will not hit your port. But we are going to fight.” And I swung on him 104

so hard I scared myself. I tried to take his head off of his shoulders. We began to tussle in the street. He was trying everything he could to calm me down. I was yelling and crying at the same time. I had enough. Finally, the police came and broke it up.

“Let me go,” I screamed through my tears when the police officer grabbed me. “You ain't gon’ have to worry about cancer killing you, I am going to kill you and tell God you died.”

I know you are probably thinking, “How could you? This man is fighting for his life. You don't have cancer. You don’t know what he is going through.”

You are right. I don't have cancer in my body, but there wasn't a day during that 26 months that I 105

didn't have the responsibility of cancer in my life.

The loneliness of being a caregiver is crippling. You become a professional actor, hiding your fears, needs, and desires on a daily basis. People commend you for being strong, as if you have a choice in the matter. People never say, “Wow. She is handling that tragedy weakly.� As a caregiver you have all the symptoms with no diagnosis. You spend countless sleepless nights running to and from the hospital.

You have to be a therapist, a nurse, a cook, and a housekeeper in addition to trying to maintain a normal life. It is absolutely crazy. One day, everything is fine and the next day you are playing the starring role in a life that you never planned on living.

106

Cancer certainly took its toll on me. I gained 45bls in 21 months. I lost my job because I refused to miss an appointment with him, I lost my hair in the middle because of stress, I was 27 and when most people say stupid stuff like ‘you are young- you have your whole life ahead of you!’, I didn’t felt like I had any life ahead. I had given my whole life to this fight. I felt like I was doing my part. I just needed him to meet me halfway. I felt like I lost my best friend.

See, our life had always been James and I against the world. We could do anything as a team. We were always a team. B&J for life. We had the tattoos to prove it. (Hold your judgments we were young. We thought it was cool.) We had Maximus and became MJB. We started the whole “Big Three” movement; we were on the Watts’ forever team.

107

That night after the fight, we went home and talked and cried and laughed all night. He finally got it. He never knew how I felt. He promised me that, from that point forward, he would fight with everything inside of him and he would never leave me. He told me how much he appreciated me. The truth is, I always knew that he loved me. This road just got so rough and dark for us at times we could no longer see each other. That night, I felt like I had my ace back in effect- finally. At that moment, I knew that we were going to be fine.

The very next day, after the bar fight in the street, we got a call that the cancer was back. He looked at me and said, “Game time.� He was ready 108

and he was going to fight. He had one round of ICE, but his body couldn't handle it. This time, things were different. He was hospitalized for 10 days. We held hands while he slept every night during this particular visit. His white blood cell count was struggling to rebuild, so he had to receive some blood transfusions and platelets until his levels were stable enough to go home. However, his body couldn’t handle it and his immune system was compromised.

With a compromised immune system, things went from bad to worse in what felt like an instant.

However, James was up for the challenge; he was determined to keep his promise, no matter what.

They put him on an experimental chemotherapy, 109

which did not control his cancer, and tumors began to grow. He walked around with back pain for 2 months on the experimental treatment before he had to have spinal surgery. I had never seen him more determined. Tumors developed around his spine and ended up crushing a vertebra in his back.

We were given a new treatment plan which consisted of major spinal surgery to reinforce his spine so that he wouldn't be paralyzed, followed by 4 rounds of radiation, followed by yet another new experimental chemotherapy. This was our path to remission, which would get us to the stem cell transplant.

During the surgery, he lost a lot of blood and died twice on the table. He received a transfusion 110

and made it out of the surgery. He was put on a ventilator and given a feeding tube for 3 days. The doctors were worried that James would be paralyzed and never able to walk again.

But he bounced back, like he always did. We listened to Cheef Keef’s “Finally Rich” album at the highest volume the entire time he was in recovery.

We made it through the surgery, and that was the hard part. I took that as a good sign. It was like we made it through the fire. I never left his side, like I promised. He spent 1 week in the ICU and 1 week in the step down unit before he was transferred to a rehab center in Maryland, where he stayed for a week. However, while at the rehabilitation facility, he contracted an infection. The staff did not change 111

the access to his port, and he became septic. I wanted him transferred because the facility was not equipped to take care of him, and I fought with the facility supervisor and demanded that he be transferred three days before he got sick for the last time.

James passed away Sunday March 3, 2013. He was going to be transferred the very next day.

There are no fighters or survivors. There is no difference. What if you die? It doesn’t mean that you lost. It’s life, and it is the journey that you are 112

surviving, not the cancer. There is no way to lose to cancer. There is no choice in cancer.

Open letter Dear Bernice, I see you laying on the couch in the master bedroom watching Scandal on repeat. I know that you feel like 113

you have lost your whole world and you didn’t deserve it. Your heart is gone and your soul feels empty. You feel like a failure. I need you to know that you did your very best and nothing is your fault, if you could have saved him, I know that you would have given your own life for him. I am very proud of the woman that you have fought to become, and baby girl, you only get better. Make sure you thank Kim for being there by your side and getting you into all types of foolishness that ends in late night and early morning. But don't go to hard, lady; I have seen your future and it is amazing. Hug Mommy and Shawn because they are your anchors that keep your soul afloat. Thank Crystal and Matt for never leaving your side and carrying you through the dark days to come. I promise you that this test wasn't failed and 114

you will turn tragedy into triumph. You have been blessed with the gift of knowing how truly precious this life is and you will never again take it for granted. It was all for something. You will change the world one day by simply following your heart.

Love, The Future You Special Thank You To my Daddy – I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you and the way you raised me. Thank you for everything that you did for James and I, especially coming to the hospital and letting them know where I get my BOSS attitude from. I love you beyond word. We have issues but know that I love you from my soul.

115

To my god mother and Sister Sheila and Kayla Coleman blood couldn’t make us any thicker. You helped raise me and I love you so much. Kayla you looked out on that Cali trip like no other (but you did bam out on those weeknd tickets lol) but I love you.

Anthony you know what it is. I will always love you.

To Carl Cardoza and Miss Jena, Thank you for holding James and I down, we would have never made it to the chemo appointments without out your sacrifice. I love you both to pieces, you’re heaven sent period. PS… I promise I will pay all those tickets off. Love you ☺

116

Special Roll Call: Nicole Barton, Ebony Pierce, Tina Romero, Shawn Kaiser, Son our camera guy, Lele Barnes, Jenise Mcnair, Brittany and Mrs. Gayle, and Jermaine and Catron Turner. Angels without Halos.

Chapter 4: Jermaine

I remember the day my Mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor. It was the day after Christmas when she was admitted to the emergency room, feeling lightheaded and weak. We stepped directly into what turned out to be a year and a half whirlwind of emotions and difficult decisions. Mom had a brain tumor and it was growing fast.

117

Mom did not have health insurance. She had recently been laid off and was living with me as a way to make ends meet. No job, no insurance, and a mountain of bills left her overwhelmed. We all were making adjustments as our blended family began living under one roof. Even with a less than ideal situation, I really appreciated her being close and having the opportunity to see my 3 little ones grown up. This was the beginning of that strange time most children experience when they begin to support their parents because they can no longer support themselves. It was heartbreaking, but I knew I had to become Mom’s supporter.

Brain surgery was her first treatment. Prior to surgery, Mom was a God-loving Christian who 118

always found the silver lining in situations. She sincerely believed and trusted that God would heal her, and she went into surgery hopeful. The surgery left Mom slightly paralyzed on the right side of her body. We were not prepared. I watched as the positive spirit Mom cherished began to fade. I watched as she began to physically deteriorate, unable to help with much of anything. I watched, as her limited physical ability created a level of frustration and negativity that I did not think possible in such a God-loving person. She was forever changed.

She stayed in the hospital for several months after surgery, waking up frustrated that she was not able to move her limbs. We were hopeful that 119

physical therapy would help her regain mobility and alleviate some of the frustration Mom was feeling.

She eventually came home and we weren’t prepared. I had no understanding of the amount of compassion, patience, and commitment required to care for a loved one. This was my first experience with cancer and I wasn’t ready. Mom was angry. It was not clear what triggered her anger, but there were so many possibilities. She was angry and emotional and overwhelmed. Her overwhelming feeling increased after learning that her medication caused her to have diabetes. So much was changing with her condition in such a short time, and we all were scared of what would happen next.

120

Chemotherapy left Mom weak and scared to walk. She lost all hope and secluded herself to her room, not wanting to speak. She went from walking into her doctor’s office for checkups to eventually requiring paramedics to pick her up. Her tumor reemerged and she lost all faith. She officially gave up.

To say that living with cancer is difficult would be an understatement. Even though Mom had the diagnosis, my whole family was living with her cancer. She needed around the clock care, and her growing anger put a strain on our relationship, as well as my relationship with my wife. I was torn. My loyalty and support had always been to my wife, but my mother was dying. There was so much tension in 121

my home, and I started avoiding Mom as much as possible. I was unaware at the time but the growing tumor was causing her to be mean and violent both in her words and her actions. The tension continued to grow in the house; the kids were not immune to its effects. Things got so bad that a year after her diagnosis, Mom and my sister moved out. I hoped that with a little distance things would get better, but they did not. I loved Mom, but our relationship was strained and my family life had been damaged severely. It’s amazing how one diagnosis can cause so much pain.

On top of all the drastic family dynamic changes, Mom began to deteriorate faster. The doctors finally had to admit that there was nothing 122

else they could do to help her and the entire family was heartbroken by the news. Her fate was sealed, and we weren’t ready. The tumor spread to both sides of her brain and doubled in size. Mom had to move again- this time, to a state-run nursing home that we hoped could provide her with around-theclock support. She had no insurance, so our options were limited.

I know that she had given up, but had I given up on her as well? I began to question everything as Mom faded further and further away from me. The family and I would visit, but loving her from a distance seemed unnatural. My wife and I wanted to be by her side constantly. We loved her unconditionally and, despite her deteriorating state, 123

wanted her to know. We had years of memories, and we clung to them hard during this time. Staying positive and hopeful was hard.

Mother’s Day 2012, I went to visit Mom. I found her lying in the bed with unchewed food from the previous day sitting in her mouth. She had suffered a stroke, and no one had checked on her since meal time the previous day. I was heartbroken and angry. Mom was moved again, this time to a local hospital for what I hoped would be more attentive care than what the state nursing facility provided.

The next several weeks were the most emotionally intense weeks of my life. Mom made me her health care agent, which meant I was 124

officially in charge of her life. I wasn’t ready. I would never wish on anyone the moment in a loved ones life where you have to decide if they should remain on life support, if they should have a feeding tube, and if they should be treated at a Hospice. I questioned myself constantly, wondering if picking life support would be selfish of me. Hospice was the next choice, and I wondered if moving her there would be me giving up on her. The power of determining when someone passes away is agonizing and dark. The stroke in the nursing home left Mom unconscious; it was now time for me to make a decision. She was moved to hospice.

Mom spent a few days in hospice before I received a call on May 27th, 2012 from the staff 125

informing me that her breathing was abnormal and that she would not make it through the night. They encouraged me to come in to say goodbye to her and to notify my family should they want to make a final visit. I knew this call was coming, but I didn’t want to hear it. I wasn’t ready, and my wife and I decided not to go. Remembering Mom as the loving and compassionate person she was before cancer changed her is all I could think of doing. She was gone.

Over the last 11 years, I had lost my grandmother, grandfather, brother, and now my Mother. They were my family and the closest people to my heart. Mom’s funeral was different from the rest, because from her last living moments to her 126

funeral I was in charge of her arrangements. She didn’t have life insurance, so organizing her funeral was a true community event. I offer big thanks to family and friends that we were able to help send her off properly. To God be the glory!

Patricia Jeanette Mastin-Moore was laid to rest on June 7, 2012. Speaking at Mom’s funeral was something I knew I had to do because I still carried with me the regrets of not speaking at my brother’s funeral. I shared with everyone the different manifestations of cancer we all suffer with, both biological and emotional. We all are vulnerable to destructive and poisonous behaviors, attitudes, bitterness and the inability to forgive. Mom was in pain at the end of her life, and it was important for 127

me to release the pain I felt towards her and the cancer she carried before laying her to rest. I truly believe that living is about overcoming cancers of all forms and holding true to faith.

Mom is missed incredibly, but her cancer is not. I think of her daily and thank God for her presence in my life. We are all still healing from her cancer, and she has brought a true understanding of faith to my family that has left us forever grateful. It’s amazing how the most unfortunate trials can birth amazing healing, blessings, and change in the lives of others. It’s how we view the trial that counts.

My story has been offered up in many situations to help others deal with their personal trials. Mom 128

will forever live in our hearts, along with our trust and faith in God. God is always in control and he will never leave us.

Jermaine Turner @Jpixphoto Chapter 5: Coco

Before Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, I lived an exciting life. I had a 7-year old healthy son, a full-time job, my own house, and had just purchased a new car so I could travel with my little man. My time was consumed with working, taking care of little man, and having fun making music. I loved everything about my life and was blessed with great family, friends and an exciting social life. Hard working, 129

dependable, independent and positive is how I would best describe myself.

My first encounter with cancer was a year and a half before I received my diagnoses. It was a tough experience and an example of just how spontaneous cancer can be. On March 12, 2012 my stepfather went in for a routine physical. 30 minutes into the exam the doctor found that he had been living with lung cancer for quite some time and needed immediate treatment. Unfortunately, treatment wasn’t enough to stop the spread of the disease and within that month we watched as cancer took a huge toll on his life. The diagnosis and aggressiveness of the disease hit our family like a ton of bricks. On April 13, 2012 my stepfather, Charles T. 130

Crawford, passed away. Thinking back to losing him still brings tears to my eyes. I loved him so much and looked up to him as the strongest person I knew. I blamed cancer and hated everything about it. I only knew to relate cancer to death and heartache until my own journey with it began.

December 26, 2013 – My Mother’s 51st birthday! I had dinner plans with her and friends to celebrate after my usual 8-hour work shift. My right shoulder and arm had been bothering me all day, but I dismissed it as nothing serious, even though the pain had been with me for the last two months. I figured it was a pulled muscle from laying on my side when I slept and eventually the pain would work itself out.

131

Looking back, it was more than discomfort, and I regret ignoring the signs my body was sending me.

My back was hurting horribly and I was tired all the time; both symptoms pointed to something being very wrong. I remember being so restless at work that I would drive home on my lunch break just to sleep for 30 minutes, and sometimes ended up dozing off at my desk. The warning signs were so slight that they were easily mistaken as simply being a single mom with goals and aspirations who was always on the go. Being tired was not something new to me, or any single mom, I’m sure.

It was nearing the end of the workday and I felt shooting pains coming down from my shoulder and hitting my chest. I started to get worried. Sitting 132

silently in my chair, I started to wonder if the tiredness and back pain I had been living with for 2 months were somehow related to this new chest pain. Was I missing something? I picked up on the tiredness, the shoulder and arm discomfort, but wondered if there was something else I was missing.

Well, there was my annoying cough and shortness of breath issues, which prevented me from walking or practicing my music for long periods of time.

Being constantly winded didn’t sound off any alarms for me either, even though I had enough breath to continue as usual if I didn’t have to stop to cough.

All of that combined with this new shoulder pain had me freaking out. I jumped on the internet to Google my symptoms; which, by the way, was the dumbest thing I could’ve done! I must’ve diagnosed 133

myself with everything under the sun before I said, “Brittany, log off and just go to the ER after work!”

Still at work on my Mom’s birthday, a co-worker walked by and saw the puzzled look on my face. He asked if everything was okay, and I told him I honestly didn’t know. I told him what I had been experiencing and he agreed that I should probably go get it checked out after my shift. In my mind I had it narrowed down to pneumonia or a simple chest cold. I called my Aunt Renee to have her pick up my son from daycare while I got checked out at the hospital. My family knew nothing about what I had been experiencing because I didn’t feel it was severe.

I then called my mother to tell her my plans and that I would meet her at her favorite restaurant 134

after being released. I was certain it would take 2 hours max. In the ER the doctors immediately began running tests. They wouldn’t admit me and, instead, sent me back to the waiting room after each test.

Three hours passed. My friend who was keeping me company had to leave to tend to her baby, and my patience grew increasingly thin. I was infuriated at the fact that I was missing my mother’s birthday, and when she called to check on me, she could hear the frustration in my voice. I would’ve walked out of that door had she not stopped me. Mom cancelled her birthday plans and brought one of her close friends to sit with me. Shortly after Mom arrived, I was called back to a room. From there…my world

135

was turned upside down at age 27 and the next 7 days were a blur.

ER Doctor: “We noticed cloudiness in your xray.”

Me: “Ok, so that’s significant with pneumonia right? Will I be able to get released tonight and take medication from home?”

ER Doctor: “You’re right, it is, but there’s more.

You also have a mass on the right side of your chest pushing against your shoulder and chest cavity causing it to appear rather large. This is what is causing the pain you are feeling in your shoulder and arm. The mass is pressing against nerves that are 136

affecting the feeling in that arm. I’m sorry but we’re going to have to admit you for further testing.”

Me: “Ok so what does this mean? Can it be removed?”

ER Doctor: “We won’t be sure until we do a biopsy on the mass and know exactly what we are dealing with. I’ve scheduled the biopsy for tomorrow morning and then we’ll go from there. I’m sorry.”

The door closes and I’m left puzzled. Mom and her friend are staring at me and telling me it’ll all be fine. All I could do was cry. I was scared, I was confused, I wanted my son and to just lay in my bed at home! My mother held me as I cried for what 137

seemed like forever. I had a million questions and no one to ask who could relate. The nurses kept coming in to check on me but I didn’t want to be bothered. I wanted to cry and be left alone. How was this “mass” growing in me and I had no clue? Who could I blame?

December 27, 2013 – After being admitted, I was immediately hooked up to an IV to have fluids administered. I was given morphine and Dilaudid for the pain in my shoulder. The pain seemed to intensify after learning there was a major problem growing inside of me. I couldn’t get comfortable and my mind was clouded with thoughts. The meds made it a lot easier to fall asleep. I was put on a liquid diet until all of the testing was completed and 138

at 6 a.m. the nurses woke my mom and I so that I could be wheeled off for my biopsy. Not sure of the name, but the medication they gave me before my biopsy put me in a twilight state. I remember seeing them doing the procedure and feeling the pressure but I felt no pain at all. One thing about being admitted, the doctors made sure I never felt any pain.

When I look at pictures of me in the hospital and notice how much weight I lost, my memories are all clouded because of all the heavy-hitting pain meds they had me on. With a cloudy mind, it was hard for me to understand at the time how fast everything was happening. The “C� word never once came to mind when I heard I had a mass. I think my family 139

thought of it but kept their thoughts to themselves and conversation about it outside of my room in order to keep me at peace.

December 31, 2013 – At this point I had been stuck in the hospital for four days and had missed my sons 7th birthday 3 days prior. I was going to miss all the New Year’s Eve parties and wouldn’t have the chance to wear those new Michael Kors heels my boyfriend bought to go with my perfect dress. I was pissed, livid even, and I wanted answers! Every nurse that entered my room, I begged to leave. I was told the doctor would be in soon to inform me of the results. My room was filled with my family and closest friends. Finally, at about 6PM, in walks a team of four people that looked like they meant 140

business. I asked a few people to leave the room, but kept my closest family members present.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t nervous, because I was still confident that nothing serious was going on and they’d be releasing me. The doctor proceeded to introduce himself and inform me that the tumor in my chest had active cancer cells. He said the type of cancer I have is called Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I would have to undergo chemotherapy and possibly radiation, but it is the most curable form of cancer there is. Everybody’s eyes were stuck on me while he was speaking and I just remember staring at him like I was in a dream. He asked if I had any questions and my only one was, “Where do we begin? I’m going to fight and beat this!” He then explained the process, told me he would need me to stay in the hospital for 141

a few more days and from there I would begin 6 cycles of chemotherapy. After talking a few more minutes, he shook my hand, smiled and left the room. I was happy to finally know what was going on inside of me, but scared as hell of what was about to take place. I hugged my mother, hugged my father, hugged my aunt and broke down in tears!

Happy New Year Britt…2014…cheers!

January 1, 2014 – In prep for my CT Scan, I was given some liquid in a Gatorade bottle that I was told to drink fast one hour before the scan. The liquid was disgusting! It tasted like metal and I had to hold my nose getting it down. I also had a mega scan taken of my heart to make sure it was pumping

142

at a high enough percentage to begin chemo the following week.

January 2, 2014 – Two days after my diagnoses, I was informed that I had the option of getting what they called a Power Port inserted surgically into my chest. This would allow them to draw blood and give me medication a lot easier than through an IV. At this point I agreed to whatever would make my 6 months easiest. During the Power Port procedure I was completely put to sleep. I didn’t feel one bit of it and had no pain. They also took bone marrow from my hip that they tested to get an estimate of how long I had cancer. The test revealed that I had been living with the cancer for about 3 months, which is around the time the discomfort in my shoulder 143

began. My body was trying to warn me a long time ago and I just didn’t listen. I couldn’t blame anyone but myself.

January 3, 2014 – I was discharged from the hospital and given strict orders to stay home from work, stay in the house, not to go any public places, and to wear a surgical mask at all times. Getting sick would interfere with my treatment, so I had to follow the rules. I went from staying busy and being out all the time to being confined to my house and I absolutely hated it. The doctors send me home with a load of medication. They have Percocet to take for pain, Xanax for anxiety, Zoloft for anxiety and depression, Compazine for nausea and vomiting and Lactulose for the constipation caused from the pain 144

meds. I lost a total of 18 pounds and went from wearing a size 9 to a size 3. I felt like a completely different person and couldn’t look at myself in the mirror.

Chemotherapy began on January 8, 2014 and I started on the 6-cycle ABVD regimen. Once every two weeks I was in the hospital for 6 months and each cycle contained two chemo treatments. The day after every treatment I would have to go back in for what they called a “Booster Shot, “ which was given to boost my white blood cell count. The doctors warned me that the booster shot would make my bones ache and to take Claritin allergy medication. On top of all of the other meds I could hardly keep up. The first treatment knocked me 145

completely on my ass. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t get comfortable, I was in pain and I was irritated. I remember my mind feeling blank. It’s hard to describe, but I felt dead inside. The tears rolled down my cheeks; it was hard to even know what I wanted to eat or drink. My mom would ask me what I wanted, what I was feeling and if I was in pain and I’d just stare at her, crying. I didn’t know. For five days after treatment she tried to force me to eat and get out of bed. I continued to lose weight and after just one treatment felt like letting go. It was on that 5th day that my best friend showed up, opened my blinds and said, “Get up! You are going to fight. I’m going to rearrange your room to make it more comfortable, wash and do your hair, help you get dressed and we are going to eat a meal together!” It 146

was at that point in my journey that I realized I had something to live for. I couldn’t let go and giving up wasn’t an option. She gave me hope and made me feel alive, and I am forever grateful to her for that day.

Throughout chemotherapy, I experienced nausea, night sweats, constipation, fatigue, vomiting, and cramps. Horrible stomach pain would leave me bent over when trying to walk and have me grabbing the closest thing to me for stability.

Luckily, I had great family and good friends to hold me up during my fight. I got used to the side effects after a while and it became like second nature. I’d do things around the house, shower and keep my son occupied while fighting through the pain. I made a 147

promise to myself after that first treatment that I would maintain life as normal as possible so that my son would never worry. I wasn’t able to work.

Without the social security that the hospital social worker said I was guaranteed to receive while undergoing treatment, the bills quickly began piling up. See, I was used not getting help since I was accustomed to having my own money, so I took matters into my own hands and used my tax return money to have t-shirts printed that I could sell to help with my bills. I knew of people who had cancer and didn’t survive (I didn’t know of any survivors), so I had no one to reach out to for advice.

On March 11, 2014 I had my first full body scan since December 26, 2013. Halfway through and after 148

just 6 chemotherapy treatments my doctor informed me that there were NO active cancer cells and my tumor had shrunk tremendously. He made the decision that all I had to do was 2 more treatments and he would stop chemotherapy.

Nothing but God! The feeling I felt at that moment was out of this world! I have since then completed my last two rounds and was blessed on April 24, 2014 to be finished with chemotherapy. The same family and friends were present, along with the amazing nursing staff that helped me the whole way through, as I rang the victory bell symbolizing my fight was just about over! I still have 15 treatments of radiation to complete but finally, the hardest part is over!

149

Special Thanks: Most importantly I’d like to thank God for choosing me to endure everything I’ve been through. I truly believe that my anger and resentment was so strong when my stepfather passed away that he took me on this journey to discover myself and restore my faith in him completely. I was so bitter about cancer and felt that no good could come from it. In my mind, it was a death sentence and I knew of too many who lost their lives to it. Now, after all I’ve been through, I know it’s not. Cancer actually gave me life and for that I am grateful. I had and still have an amazing team behind me whom I call, “My Phighters”. All of your kind words on my social networks, donations and purchases at my 150

fundraisers helped me more than you’ll ever know! I gained so many new friends and grew closer to ones I already had. My Ace, my right hand chick, my soul mate, Rachel Froehlich…I love you and my godson with every bone in my body! You picked me up and dusted me off several times throughout this process and showed me the loyalty you always have. If it wasn’t for you taking my hand that very 1st treatment I don’t know where I’d be! To my son, Turchon Michael, you are mommy’s angel! You have been such a little trooper on this journey and did a great job helping mommy the whole way through. I hope you realize when you’re older that we are blessed to have one and other. I will do my best to always make you happy and never let you see me down. I want to lead by example and show you that 151

no matter what life throws your way you better fight through it like no other! Everything happens for a reason and God makes no mistakes! I’d like to send big hugs and kisses to my family. You mean more to me than anything in this world and we have tons of memories to make together. Let the fun begin! Last but not least I’d like to thank my mother, Teresa Crawford, for being by my side every step of the way thus far. I know it had to be hard watching your baby girl go through so much but you raised one tough cookie! No more tears of sadness, we have a long life ahead to live. Charlie is in a much better place and he no longer feels any pain. Trust me, I know now what he was feeling and it hurt. Let go, smile and thank God we still have each other. I love you all and I appreciate you all! Thank you for being my 152

foundation and holding my hand every step of the way. My battle has been won but the war is not over.

Please continue to support those with cancer and spread word about my fight and the others in this book. We’ve worked very hard to be where we are and hope that people are inspired and encouraged! I look forward to making music in the future and speaking at public events about cancer awareness.

Please continue to follow my journey on Instagram.

Every life has a purpose, appreciate and enjoy! @wutscocodoin

153

Chapter 6: Rachel

As a 14-year-old, I was working to discover myself and, like most teenagers, was confused at to who I wanted to be. My biggest concern was making boys like me and finding a way to fit in. I couldn’t pick an identity. I was an athlete, but also wanted to try out for the cheer squad. I was into piercings and colorful hair but also shopped at all the preppy stories in the mall. Most devastating were my feelings of being unwanted and lost, often wishing that something bad would happen to me so people would give me attention.

The summer after middle school was rough, but once I finally got to high school, things started 154

getting better. I had an amazing group of friends and met some great new people. I was one of the few freshmen who made the JV soccer team and made the cheerleading squad. I was having so much fun and was feeling better in my own skin, finally figuring out who I was. My best friend was on the cheerleading squad with me, and the two of us spent all of our time together. We lived on the same street and would hang out every day after school.

We would mess around prank calling people, doing crazy makeup, hanging out with boys, and other random 14-year-old things. I loved my life so much and could feel my life becoming nearly perfect.

One day during an away soccer game, I took a hard fall onto my right shoulder. It felt paralyzed. I take pain well usually, but this was unbearable. This 155

shoulder had felt uncomfortable for me for a long time but nothing like this. That fall sent me in to my doctor for an x-ray. He was at a loss, thinking maybe it was a distended bursa, and sent me to a sports medicine clinic. The doctor there ordered an MRI of my shoulder and determined that the scan showed a tumor. Without many answers, that doctor sent me to Seattle Children’s Hospital. At Seattle Children’s I met a tumor specialist who informed me I would be having a biopsy the next week. He said he was 99.9% positive the tumor was benign and if it was, he would remove the tumor, if not, he would leave the tumor in. I was confident in the doctor’s belief that it was an innocent tumor and all would be well very soon.

156

By this point, the word had spread around the school that I had a tumor. I was embarrassed.

People thought I was dying over something I thought was nothing. Maybe they knew something I didn’t. Even though I felt it was something little and embarrassing, they showed so much support it was incredible. I felt so loved and so blessed and knew that with their support this little surgery would be a breeze. I loved all of the kind notes and words people were sharing with me. I thought back to the summertime when I wished something bad would happen to me and I felt like this was that “thing” and it was great getting all the attention! But… Be careful what you wish for…

157

The night before surgery, my family drove about an hour to stay at a hotel close by the hospital since check in was early in the morning. I had never had surgery before and all the questions of the unknown were racing around my mind. I remember just staring at my shoulder and thinking it would never look or feel the same, without a thought in my mind of what would come the next afternoon.

When we got to the hospital, I had butterflies speeding around in my stomach. I felt that I had to stay strong for my family even though inside I was very uneasy about being put under. I found every ounce of courage I had in me and walked back to the surgery table. The anesthesiologist sensed my nerves 158

and played me “Ice Age” on his phone as I drifted off into a deep sleep.

Beep. Beep. Beep. That obnoxious monitor beeping woke me up 4 hours later. I kept trying to fall back asleep but the nurse wouldn’t leave me alone. Finally I was able to keep my eyes slightly opened but was still dazed. My surgeon came to my bedside.

“You’re doing great. During your surgery, the results were not clear and after initial pathology we left the tumor in.” I knew exactly what that meant.

Emotionless, I replied,

159

“Okay.”

The next few days were a blur. Recovering in the hospital, my friends and family made the drive to visit and new doctors and nurses from the oncology unit came by every day. The pain meds made me out of it and that, along with the life changing news I’d just received, made me physically and emotionally numb. Just two weeks ago I had been on cloud nine because of how my life was going and now I had a disease. This was something I had a very hard time wrapping my brain around.

On November 20, 2007 I was officially diagnosed with Synovial Sarcoma, a rare soft tissue 160

cancer. The day I was diagnosed I was not scared. I did not feel hate, anger, or anything at all really. I knew this would be a bump in the road for me, but I also knew I would overcome. Maybe I was just naïve but I knew I had “Team Henley” behind me, and felt stronger than ever. I just had no idea how big of a fight this would be.

About two weeks after my surgery, I had another small surgery to have my Hickman line placed. A Hickman line is a permanent IV that was placed on the left side of my chest. I had two tubes coming out of my chest and medicines would be attached directly to that to be injected. I was feeling good and getting so much support. My best friends 161

had silicon bracelets and t-shirts made with Team Henley written on them and every Tuesday tons of people would wear the shirts. This support helped me to feel confident in the journey that was to come.

Shortly after I had my Hickman placed, I started Chemotherapy. The treatment plan was a clinical trial that consisted of combining two traditional chemotherapy drugs with radiation. My treatments were four days inpatient of the chemo drugs Ifosphamide and Doxorubicin. These treatments were every three weeks. After the first few treatments, I started radiation in January of 2008. I had radiation daily for six weeks. Every morning, my mom and I would wake up and make the hour-long drive to Seattle for treatment, and after treatment 162

was finished we would make the drive home so I could go to school. Because my blood counts stayed relatively normal, I made the choice to stay in school during my whole treatment and even continued cheerleading as much as I could. It was important for me to keep my life as normal as possible and the normalcy helped me to keep fighting so diligently.

Late February, I had the big surgery to remove the tumor in my shoulder. During the surgery, they removed a lot of my shoulder, including my deltoid and half of my rotator cuff. My right shoulder is significantly smaller than my left and is much weaker than it used to be. The surgery was successful and hearing the words “all margins clear�

163

were the best words I’ve ever heard. It was so exciting to know I no longer had this devil living inside of me- or so I thought.

After surgery, I had a few more weeks of radiation and a couple more rounds of chemo. On my final scans I had a small blur in my right lungs but my doctors were not too concerned. May 16, 2008, just after my 15th birthday, I officially became a cancer survivor.

I quickly returned to my normal life of soccer, cheerleading, friends, and school activities. I got very involved in Relay for Life and volunteering at the hospital. I moved on from my life with cancer and it 164

felt like a distant memory or even a dream. Four years later, I went off to college. When I was well into my first year at school, I found that, while running, I was having a harder and harder time breathing as time went on. Being so active I found this slightly odd, but figured I just had a lingering chest cold.

My four-year post-treatment check up came and I had my normal MRI, Chest CT, and heart scans.

When the oncology nurse practitioner came in to meet us she had a look about her that wasn’t normal. She told us that my right lung showed several tumors and I would need to have surgery. My

165

family and I knew these weren’t just harmless tumors. This was cancer again.

Friday, April 13th, 2012, I went in for a thoracotomy to remove the tumors. The recovery was horrible. The epidural they placed for pain control didn’t work and I woke up with no pain medicines at all. I screamed for help. My ribs had been separated and broken, my lung bruised, and a huge muscle in my back cut in half. My body felt all wrong. At the post surgery appointment, I was told the surgeon did not get good margins, meaning it is unsure if he left some tumor behind. My heart broke. I knew that since the cancer came back after all the treatment I had done to kill it, it was a 166

resilient cancer. At my 6-week scans, the tumors had completely grown back. I immediately started a chemo pill which allowed me to go back to college, but at the end of the semester, scans showed growth in my cancer and I had to leave college and switch hospitals in order to get access to clinical trials, since they were my best option. I started a trial chemo drug but after two treatments, scans showed further progression of the tumors. The next trial I was on worked great. I was able to enroll in online classes and pursue my dream of becoming an interior designer.

In September, I had scans to see how this chemo was working. On our drive to the clinic to find out 167

the results of my scans my doctor called and said he had good news and bad news. He told me my tumors were still stable but I had a collapsed lung and needed to go straight to the hospital and check in. I was to have a pleurodesis procedure. The tumors had poked a small hole in my lung and caused air to continuously leak out. Putting a tube in to drain it would likely only be a temporary solution and the pleurodesis was a more permanent solution.

Since this procedure I have had strong nerve pain and am on the maximum dose of oxycontin along with high doses of nerve medication and am still in extreme discomfort. After my lung collapsed and I had to recover from surgery and put treatment 168

on hold, the tumors grew once again, and this time, they found a tumor sitting on my liver as well.

Treatment after treatment, I was having a hard time finding something that worked. We tried radiation to shrink the liver tumor with little luck.

We then decided to try the treatment I was on in 2007 and 2008. After the first treatment I went home and was feeling okay. The next day I would have to go back to the hospital to get a neulasta shot to help my blood counts. That morning I couldn’t get up. I attempted several times but would pass out. I was stuck upstairs and desperately needed to get to Seattle for my shot. My family ended up having to wrap me in a blanket and carry 169

me down the stairs. The recovery from these treatments was terrifying. For the first time, I really thought I was going to die. I lost 25 pounds and didn’t recognize my completely hairless head and face. The nausea, the weakness, the awful taste in my mouth‌ it was all awful. But I knew it was what I would have to do. I would have to put myself through hell in order to have the possibility of beating this. We finally found a treatment that was shrinking the tumors slightly, and then we ran into another problem: I reached the maximum lifetime dose of ifosphamide, and continuing could cause damage to other organs. Devastated, my doctors and I decided that continuing was not the best idea and I needed to find another option.

170

Now 21, currently I am waiting for issues to settle with insurance so that I am able to get back to searching for treatments. For a third of my life, cancer has been my battle. My battle has been long and may be far from over but despite the pain and the frustrations I am strong and I have my “Team Henley” army of supporters behind me, and my faith to lead me.

Thank You-Cancer is a battle that is not fought alone. Sure, it’s one person getting poked and poisoned, but there’s so much more to cancer than that. Cancer can be extremely lonely for the patient, so sharing love and smiles with someone with cancer is so important.

171

Many have told me they don’t know how to act towards me and want to know how I want them to act around me. I love this question because I know it means they care. So if you know a fighter, ask, or take my advice. It’s a balance; fighters like to talk about what they are going through- to a point. We want to feel normal; we want to be treated normally. Fighters need family and friends and we want to share our stories. Don’t let cancer scare you.

You are part of the fight simply by lending support.

Since the very beginning of my fight, I have had an amazing support system. Team Henley has given me so much joy over the years and I feel so in debt for everything the entire team has done for my family and I. The meals for when my family needed a little help after days in the hospital. The donations you’ve 172

given to help my family with medical payments. The inspiring words and love to help me when I’m feeling down, and most importantly, your belief in me which has helped me to fight on every day.

To my family, my best friends, and my boyfriend, the ones who have supported me at my weakest. Thank you for taking care of me at my worst, for spoiling me with favors, for carrying me when I couldn’t walk, pushing my wheelchair, running out to pick up my cravings at any time of the day, and thank you for loving me unconditionally every single day. I will do all that I can to repay you, but nothing I do will amount to all that you have done and continue to do for me.

173

And to my mom: my best friend, and my caregiver, thank you. Because of you I have never had to face an appointment alone. Because of you I have always had a friend to smile with, laugh with, cry with, and watch HGTV with. I am so lucky to be related to my best friend and to have never had a night alone in the hospital. You inspire me and I don’t know how you do all that you do. I love you with everything I have and a little bit more. Thank you.

174

Chapter 7: Greg

This is me: Gregory Collins Jr.-- husband, father, son, and musician dedicated to sharing my faith in God with others. It’s crazy how quickly life can change. At 27 years old, I am battling cancer and fighting for my life. Before my diagnosis, I thought I was living a full life at age 25. I worked 3 jobs to support my wife and children, served in the church, and devoted all other time to my music ministry. On stage I was GMeriq and at home I was Daddy. Life for me was pretty normal. My wife and I are high school sweethearts who, at the time, had been married for 3 years. With 3-year-old Jae’Ci, 1-year-old Jaden, and my wife’s 13-year old-sister Abbie in the 175

house, there were very few dull moments. Life was good. The beach was our happy place, and our children loved going every year. Thinking back, I wish I could freeze those happy moments and hold them close to my heart forever.

I had just started a new job October 2011 and had celebrated my son Jaden’s first birthday when I started losing weight rapidly. I dropped 20 pounds in two weeks, but didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t concentrate much on the fact that my weight loss didn’t make sense, even though my diet and activity level hadn’t changed. I appreciated the weight loss and received a lot of compliments on my new appearance. Life continued without hesitation.

176

I will never forget December 27, 2011, because it marked my first unexpected trip to the hospital. I was on my lunch break and could barely eat because of an excruciating headache. This was the worst headache I had ever experienced, and I was consumed with pain. All I could do was put my head down and cry. A coworker came by and asked if I was okay. I told her that I needed to go to the hospital, got into my car, and drove myself there. I checked myself into the ER where my wife worked as a nurse. After hearing I was admitted, she immediately grew concerned. The doctor performed a CT scan of my head, and because the headache was so severe, also ran basic blood work. The CT scan explained away the headache as a severe sinus infection. Praise God. I was prescribed pretty potent 177

antibiotics and Doc said I would be good to go. That was until the blood work came back and the mystery began. I was anemic and my liver enzymes were elevated. Huh? I had no idea what that meant and how it related to a sinus infection. The Doc didn’t have any answers and the mystery grew with intensity. I didn’t have a history of anemia and was not a drinker, so the diagnosis could not be explained based on my lifestyle. I brought up my recent weight loss and now the doctor was concerned. I went from 250lbs to 212lbs in two months and I felt silly for not paying closer attention to my weight. Doc performed a second CT scan, this time of my abdomen, to check for internal bleeding. He came back with the results and said “Well, I wish I could shine more light on the 178

situation, but I am actually more confused now.� He went on to explain that my spleen was enlarged, but no other obvious abnormalities were present that could explain the anemia. He recommended I go see an Ear Nose and Throat (ENT) doctor, a gastroenterologist and a hematologist to dig a little deeper into the anemia mystery. I left that day concerned, with my antibiotics in hand, unaware that a health investigation that would end up changing my life forever had just begun.

Wifey took charge and made what seemed like a million doctors appointments for me the very next week. This was my first experience seeing specialists and the whole process was uncomfortable. First on the list was the ENT doctor, who informed us the 179

sinus infection was still present and had only slightly improved. I was prescribed additional antibiotics and sent on my way. The gastroenterologist was next on the list. Both an endoscopy and colonoscopy were performed to make sure no internal bleeding was present. The biopsy result came back inconclusive with no evidence of bleeding. The hematologist was up next. This doctor ordered a massive amount of blood work to check a number of things that I didn’t even understand. Still, there was no luck figuring out what was wrong. My first of many bone marrow biopsies was then performed. The procedure was painful and the whole experience was horrible. Still, no evidence of disease was uncovered. My iron absorption levels were off but that was brushed off as not a big deal. All I knew was I was anemic for 180

some unknown reason and my B-12 was low. Wifey started giving me weekly injections of B-12 as a supplement. At this point I was more confused than ever and my wife was making herself sick with worry. An emergency visit to the hospital followed by a long list of doctors’ appointments and procedures all resulted in me feeling overwhelmed and no closer to figuring out what was wrong.

My weight was still dropping rapidly, and fatigue and weak spells began to set in. Work had always been a big part of my life and I found myself not being able to move around for long periods of time. I developed an itchy skin rash that spread all over my legs and torso that landed me with two dermatologist visits. I was diagnosed with 181

Ichythiosis. It had been 4 months since my first trip to the emergency room and I was receiving weekly blood workups. I still had no luck finding an answer. One night I was so weak that Wifey had to help me out of the bed. Something was seriously wrong and I was admitted to the hospital. I received a blood transfusion and was released that same night. I told the transfusion should help with my weakness. Well, it didn’t, and the very next week I was back down again. Doc scheduled me for another CT scan of my abdomen in 6 months. Wifey was not happy and she quickly scheduled me for a second opinion. We both knew something was wrong and were not comfortable waiting another 6 months for answers.

182

Now 6 months after my mystery health issue was uncovered, I found myself in yet another doctors office. “What am I doing here?,” I kept thinking. I was numb to it all at this point; just going through the motions as I was told. More blood work was done, and this time I received a full body CT scan. The results took 3 days to come in and Wifey shared the news with me. I had multiple enlarged lymph nodes in my chest and abdomen. While she could not confirm a diagnosis, Doc told my wife of the possibility of cancer and said she was setting up an appointment for a biopsy. She was hysterical and I was crushed from the news. My world was instantly turning upside down and I was just along for the ride. Why didn’t I know this sooner? Why weren’t these tests done sooner? I was hopeless and 183

scared. What now? I never imagined cancer would be the answer to the mystery. Really? What about the kids, my wife, my family? Before even receiving a diagnosis, all I could do was think of death. My wife and family were encouraging, but it was hard to shake the doubt and fear that remained. No one knew, no one understood, no one could relate, I felt alone. Why me? Why now? Why this?. I prayed for peace and comfort, but felt incapable of receiving those blessings. I was in a dark place. Strangely, I found comfort in fear. My guard was up and I couldn’t relax because at any moment I felt like I would hear something else that would make things even worse. Anxiety began to set in, and it sucked. It all just sucked.

184

The next few weeks were a blur. The biopsy results came back and I was diagnosed with stage 3 Hodgkins Lymphoma. Without much time to process the news, I had to prepare for chemotherapy. Another bone marrow biopsy and port placement was scheduled. I was numb. I was told no radiation was needed. I remember someone saying, “Well, if you’re gonna have cancer you picked a good one to have.” Nothing like a little healthcare humor. They were trying to be encouraging, saying that my prognosis was good, and curable even.

There was a little gap in time between biopsy and diagnosis that my family and I were able to go on vacation as planned to Myrtle Beach. I remember standing next to my wife on the roof top pool as the 185

kids were playing and just looking at the beach and sky. In that moment I felt a sense of clarity, and something just came over me. At that moment, I knew all was going to be well. For just that second, life was almost normal again. Still scared to death of what was about to come, we enjoyed our vacation as much as possible and came home to continue the journey.

At the end of July 2012, I started a chemo regimen called ABVD. I was expected to feel weak, and lose all my hair. The treatment was scheduled to last 6-8 months depending on my body’s response to therapy. Every Wednesday Wifey and I spent 6 hours in the chemotherapy center. The nurses were very nice and, aside from the yucky 186

chemo feeling, everything was going fairly smoothly.

Chemo days were long days. I really appreciated the moments together with my wife that chemo allowed. I couldn’t have made it through treatment without her love and support. We were true partners in this journey. I was met with the typical chemo side effects of nausea and weakness. Not wanting my hair to fall out, I shaved my head. In a loving show of support, my best friends, Dad, and my Father-in-Law all shaved their heads. Treatment left me sleepy, and I stayed in bed a lot, not having energy for much of anything. As soon as I would start to get a little sense of normal, it was time for another cycle of chemo. My mid-way PET scan showed good response, and Doc said I would only need 6 months of therapy, not 8. Finally we had 187

some good news. I pushed through the last few months of treatment with newfound hope. I completed my last cycle of chemo in the week before Christmas. Thank God! With all the treatment behind me, it was time to pray that it all worked and remain hopeful that, one day, life would again be normal.

Finally, the day came for my post-chemo PET scan. I remember leaving the house thinking, “OK, this is it.” Waiting for those results seemed to take a lifetime and will go down in history as the longest week of my life. I was beyond emotional and immediately began to cry when my results came in: No evidence of disease. I read it over and over again, “No evidence of disease.” Yes! I did it! I had officially 188

beat cancer. Cancer and treatment had taken up so much of my time and energy that I was at a loss about what to do next. I looked over to my wife, asking her, “What now?” She simply replied, “We Live!” That is exactly what we did. Christmas that year was appreciated in a whole new way. My birthday quickly followed the holiday and I was grateful to celebrate life.

I began to work on my music heavily, putting together a project called "The Treatment" based on my experience with being diagnosed and receiving treatment. Months went by. I went back to work and started exercising and playing basketball regularly. I was feeling almost back to normal. I had to go every few months for follow-up scans, and as 189

that became less frequent, I began thinking of the future, putting all things cancer behind me.

I wasn’t due for another PET scan until early the next year, but sometime in November, my wife and I began noticing small subtle changes in my skin and energy level that were concerning. My wife called the doctor and expressed her concerns, and asked if the scan could just be moved up. It was not as easy as it sounds. There was a lot of back and forth, but finally they were able to schedule the appointment in December. So, here we are again, I thought. Back to the hurry, worry and wait game with the doctors.

My wife seemed so concerned, and that scared me. I think deep down she knew something was wrong, but I know she was praying for the best. Long story 190

short- there was a series of snow and ice storms (yes in Georgia, and trust me, the whole state shut down) that kept pushing my appointment back.

The PET scan was finally done in January after what seemed like an eternity of waiting. The next appointment was almost as devastating as the first.

Surely enough there were enlarged lymph nodes and the possibility again for cancer, which meant yet another biopsy. We had been down this road before, and everyone kept saying it would be easier this time because I would know what to expect, but we found the opposite to be true. I had developed a deeper hate for the drugs and procedures now, which made me fear them even more this time. The biopsy was completed and confirmed recurrent Hodgkins 191

Lymphoma. ‘Crushed’ was the word I used to describe my feelings after my initial diagnosis, but I am not sure if there is even a word in the English language that can come close to describing how I felt the second time around. ‘Devastated’ is putting it lightly; ‘deranged’ isn’t even close, I was defeated.

Being told I had cancer again wasn't in my plans.

I was thinking of the future, not cancer. And all too familiar came the feelings of anxiety, fear and doubt that had before been lifted. I remember thinking to myself, “Here we go- AGAIN.” I wasn't sure how to prepare for this, because this was going to be totally different than what I had been through the first time.

192

I began researching all my options in an attempt to mentally prepare myself. Dr. Flowers told me his plan and, I was so overwhelmed, to say the least. He told me I would need ‘salvage chemotherapy’ for a few cycles, then stem cell harvest, then high dose chemotherapy followed by stem cell transplantation and recovery. Wow. After all I had already been through, now this. Then I learned that while receiving this salvage chemotherapy I was going to have to be admitted into the hospital. What?!, Why?. What about the kids? I wasn't thinking I would be admitted in the hospital for a few days.

How do I really explain to my now five and three year olds that Daddy is sick and has to go away for a couple of days? To date, that was probably the hardest part.

193

The plan was to start with three sets of chemotherapy known as I.C.E. to put me in remission and then proceed as tolerated with further treatment ultimately leading to a stem cell transplant. I was admitted to Emory hospital for my first cycle of chemo, which would require my wife and I to stay in the hospital for about four days every other week. Our first admission was pretty rough because I was so scared. Chemo and all the yucky feelings that come along with it were bad enough, but I was missing my kids like crazy. Luckily we had either FaceTime or Skype to talk with them and let them see that daddy was okay. It got extremely hard just being there. The heavy build-up of sadness and anxiety was always something that stayed with me.

194

It also didn’t help that the room we first had was view of a brick wall. I was already feeling trapped in the entire situation; now it seemed as if I were really trapped in this room. I hated everything about what was going on. It became hard to even try to be happy. Even communication between my family and I became a struggle. I just wanted to shut down and get it over. I really hated the food. I hated the smell of the soap. It’s crazy how simple things trigger such grandiose emotions.

I started to pray, and read my Bible and seek God’s face. I wasn’t necessarily looking for answers to why this all was happening, but I knew I needed something. I would pray, “Lord, just give me what I need.” As the admissions went on it seemed to get a 195

little easier. Although, during my second admission, I had what I think was a panic attack about it all and I literally slept the rest of the time. Luckily after my last cycle I was able to leave early and go to Tennessee to see Abbie at her color guard competition. I was discharged at 11 o'clock at night and I was just so ready to go. My wife packed up everything and we hit the road for a 2-hour drive.

Abbie didn't know we were coming, and the look on her face the next day at the competition when she saw me in my mask was priceless. The things we do for our kids. We left immediately after her performance and headed home to see the babies.

Arriving home was strange; it just didn’t feel the same. Don't get me wrong- I was so ready to be 196

home, but the anxiety followed me to the one place I thought I could get away from it. Before I knew it, I was pacing back and forth around the house like I had something to do or somewhere to go and I was going to be late. My wife kept telling me just to calm down and enjoy being home, but it was so hard because once anxiety takes over it's like you're in panic mode… feels like you're suffocating. I was constantly reminded of a verse in Philippians that says, ” Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” As I begin to pray and trust God, I started to feel so much better. It took quite some time, but praise God 197

it was getting better. Not to mention a three-yearold and a five-year-old keeping me laughing, which helped a whole lot, too. Your own children are sometimes the best medicine.

Okay, so the ‘salvage chemotherapy’ was done, and the mid-way PET scan showed i was in remission. Thank you Jesus. I then began to take shots everyday to help my body produce stem cells in preparation for stem cell harvesting. I was lucky in that I would be able to use my own stem cells. My wife gave me the shots once a day, then twice a day for a few days. Those shots made me feel terrible.

They caused severe bone pain and gave me horrible headaches. Finally the time came to collect my own stem cells and store them for later. I went in to the 198

hospital early in the morning and prepared to collect the cells. The process was surprisingly easy, but it took pretty much all day. I lay down in a hospital bed and was hooked up to this big machine that did all the work. Once finished I remember looking at this small bag of red, thin-looking fluid and thinking, wow- this is going to save my life, huh? They assured me I would see these cells again, and while they looked small they were in fact very important. The cells were sent to be tested and frozen and I went home. The charge nurse on that unit called me that night and told me I had collected 4.69 million cells, and the doctor wanted 4-5 million so I did not have to come back the next day. Whew! The next 2 weeks I got to have a ‘break’. No appointments, no

199

infusions, no lab tests, just time at home to rest, recover, and prepare for the long road ahead.

For the next couple weeks, I was trying to prepare my family and myself before going into the hospital for nearly a month. During those weeks preparing, my wife and I focused on what would make the stay in the hospital a little more tolerable.

Rachel printed out pictures to hang around the room. We bought soap and air fresheners from Bath and Body Works.

Rachel cooked meals so I wouldn't have to eat the hospital food too much. She also made a schedule of who would take care of our kids while we were gone and who would be with me when she wasn't there so I wouldn't ever have to be alone.

200

Then the big day came-- Saturday, April 26th. I remember the morning when the charge nurse called and it was time for me to report the hospital. I asked could we come later that day rather than sooner but she needed me to be there immediately. I just felt like I didn't have enough time to prepare...

MYSELF. The kids understood Daddy was going to be gone for a while, but they were going to visit their grandparents and cousins so they were excited.

Getting ready that morning was so hard. Just felt like I was heading to the electric chair or something. It usually takes about 35-45 minutes to get to the hospital, but for some reason that ride felt like 5 minutes. As I was going up to the elevator to the 8th floor, I began to blink a few times and pinch myself 201

just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Room 808 was the room I was admitted into. First thing I thought of was Kanye West's "808's & Heartbreak" That was pretty much the vibe I was in. I was given a drug called Kepivance for three days prior to admission that gave me a white coating around my mouth to prevent ulcers. This made it real difficult to eat because food just didn't taste like anything and the feeling it gave my tongue made me gag.

I started my second regimen that night called BEAM. Out of the three regimens of ABVD, ICE, and BEAM I would say BEAM gave me the worst feeling of just wanting to lay around and do nothing. I lost most of my hair with the ICE regimen, but BEAM took everything else off-- eyebrows, eyelashes, etc.

202

My head was extremely cold at night, so I usually wore a beanie but I tried to keep it off for when the nurse took my temperature. I walked everyday to keep my legs moving and circulation going. I walked usually two to three miles a day on the 8th floor hallways. 21 laps around the nurses’ station equaled one mile. My wife and I would walk my laps together listening to music and talking about our next vacation. I thought about food a lot because I couldn't really taste at the time. I thought about basketball and how I couldn’t wait to be able to really play again. I thought about my kids, wondering if they were thinking about me. I thought about what direction God would take my music or if I would even continue to do music. I knew the main focus for me was to just rest and get better which I 203

was frequently reminded by wife. I shouldn't be in such a rush- I was told, and I need to take it slow as possible and everything would be back to normal eventually.

My wife decorated the room very nicely with pictures everywhere, and I mean everywhere. She wanted me to not be able to look anywhere in the room and not remember my purpose for being there. The days would drag, but it was nice when I was able to go outside and sit on the benches and watch the people pass by. Fatigue, nausea, decreased appetite and diarrhea would come, but the medication helped with my symptom management. The chemotherapy went fairly smoothly, and the nurses and doctors would all 204

comment on how well I was doing. “Finally, I can do something right.� I would think. We met some great people that were patients on the floor as well. You come to almost develop a second family, and you begin to realize that this is all much bigger than you.

I would check on my new friends daily and try to be an encouragement to them. I found it to be therapeutic for me to pray for and speak life into other patients, and they received the words with open hearts and minds. We were all hungry for hope and looking for the same things: peace and healing.

May 2nd was the day I was going to have my transplant, and it came quicker than I expected. I was told I would be given a bunch of meds prior to the infusion of stem cells that would make me sleep 205

for most the day. The time came and the meds were given and I can recall feeling very loopy. I never fell asleep, because I didn’t want to miss anything. The infusion was pretty uneventful. I received 2 bags of the cells and then the recovery process began. Now finally I was taken off of the maintenance IV fluids, which meant I could do my laps without my pole.

Small things can really make a huge difference. Each day was different. Some days were pretty good and others were terrible, but I always had someone there (95% of the time my wife) to encourage me to keep going. My wife and I started a T-Shirt Campaign called "No One Fights Alone". The shirts stated HEal CANcer on the front. We got a great response from the campaign, which was unbelievable. Watching the campaign grow helped the time pass in the 206

hospital. Our goal was to raise awareness and spread the gospel. It’s amazing how a basic shirt design could bless so many people and open so many conversations and opportunities for people to share their testimony. People really are searching for something greater, no matter their situation.

Being in the hospital for a while causes you miss out on a lot. My daughters Pre-K graduation was one of those things I wish I could have been around for. I remember talking to her on FaceTime wiping away my tears and apologizing that I couldn't be there.

Luckily my wife went and took video so I could see my little girl walk across that stage. I may have had to miss that, but only in effort to be there for all her graduations to come.

207

Eventually the day came for my discharge! It was such an emotion- filled day. I was so glad to be able to get that trifusion line out. I was ecstatic to be going home, but also sad because I knew some of my friends had to stay and I had become very close with the staff. I walked one final lap around the unit and then said my goodbyes, and with tears in my eyes I was escorted by wheelchair to the front door.

As my wife drove away, I looked back to see the hospital building in the rear view and was speechless. It was done. Everything I had been so worried about was over and I was going home! Now, I honestly didn’t physically feel that great, but my pure joy to be able to go home overshadowed the way my body felt. My kids met me at home with a 208

huge banner that said ‘Welcome home Daddy!’ The look on my babies’ faces when they saw me home was surreal. They were completely happy.

I am currently 26 days post transplant and I have found it best to take one day at a time and deal with things as they come. The fatigue is undeniable, but the nausea and my appetite have gotten better. The doctors tell me that the fatigue will get better with time. I cannot wait for that day, because I am going crazy not being able to play basketball. My outlook on life has undoubtedly changed. Things that I used to worry about are insignificant now. I enjoy every moment with the kids and don’t sweat the small stuff. I have seen and experienced firsthand how precious life is, and how quickly things can change. I 209

have a firm belief that I am healed, and I am looking forward to celebrating my complete remission after my final PET scan that will be in August.

Now as I sit at home and look back on everything I am overwhelmed. It has been a long time coming, and I am changed forever. Honestly, I still have bad days (who doesn’t?), but now after all I have been through, even my bad days are good days comparatively. This whole cancer experience has taken a lot from me, but it no longer has a hold on me. It will forever be a part of me, but that is all- just a part. So I guess this is me now: Greg Collins Jr.-husband, father, son, musician/artist artist, and now SURVIVOR!

210

We live in a broken world where sickness, sadness, fear and desperation surround us. Many of us live in fear of the future, or hopelessly in our own reality. I can relate to each of these situations, but I’m excited to be able to share how my story changed to one of Hope and Healing through my redeemer Jesus Christ. I have been at the lowest I’ve ever been, battling sickness and doubt. I realized I could not do this alone, but I was encouraged to know that I did not have to. I remember someone told me that iron sharpens iron and we all need to hold each other accountable. Cancer has the ability to connect people on such a level that is often only shared with fellow survivors. Take advantage of that and help others. Through prayer and devotion, God revealed to me His almighty power and His anointed 211

purpose for my life during all this. I encourage all the readers of my story to pray. It’s amazing what miracles will be revealed and how much clarity you will receive. There is endless hope and peace in the presence of Jesus. Never give up, and never stop fighting. There is light at the end of the tunnel, although it may be very faint at times. I/we may never know the purpose behind our cancer, illness, or grief, but after conquering all of these things it is clear that your life does have a purpose. Pursue it with unwavering faith.

I know I couldn't have gone through this without my family and friends. The support I received from my job was awesome. My Generation Church family was always loving and eager to help.

212

They always asked if we needed anything, sometimes they did things without asking. I really appreciate my parents and in-laws for always helping out with the kids and sending them back to us spoiled. I would like to thank my closest friends, who not only encouraged me on the daily, but also helped in ways you couldn't imagine. Each card sent, message received, meal prepared, and prayer sent up was appreciated and accepted with love. It all mattered, and it all made a difference. What more can I say to my wife?,I believe whatever I say is going to be an understatement. You've been there from the beginning. You've seen me laugh, you've seen cry. We've prayed and praised together, asking God for peace. You are there whether I wake up at home or in the hospital, always right by my side the whole 213

time. I don't know what I would do without you, I love you more and more each day. You reassure me everyday that I'm Not Fighting Alone. I sometimes think ‘thank you’ is not enough. Words could never express, nor money ever repay you for the amount love I felt from you all. Thank you, and I love you all dearly!

Open Letter: Dear Greg, I know you've been feeling like you've been going through hell lately, but just hold on, you can't give up. This pain is only temporary; God's promise is forever. Stop feeling that you have to put everything on your shoulders. The Bible says in Luke 18:27 “No 214

chance at all,” Jesus said, “if you think you can pull it off by yourself. Every chance in the world if you trust God to do it.”

Stop feeling that this is all your fault; there is nothing- I mean nothing- that you could've done to prevent this. This is life. You are not fighting alone, all your family and friends are there with you. Most importantly, God wants your pain. Put all your trust in Him,and He will make all things new. Find peace and joy in Christ, He is your strength. Matthew 11:2830 says, Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you

215

will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.�

God has given you a great gift to be light in dark places. Keep encouraging and uplifting others with your spirit and through your music. Many souls are out there that need to hear about Gods grace and mercy. Regardless of your circumstances, you have a purpose. Keep loving on your lovely wife and kids, that's what it's all about. Keep pouring into their lives and let them warm your heart. Don't take anything for granted. Take advantage of every opportunity given to you.

Now Live...... Self @GMERIQ

216

Chapter 8: Kwesi

I suppose most or many of us have some memories of doomsday apprehensions at the mention of someone diagnosed as having cancer, maybe even someone we did not know. It never mattered what kind of cancer; the issue of treatment was never a part of the announcement. In the same moment, there were thoughts of hearing about the mortality rate for those who were afflicted by this dreaded disease. However, the careless of youth dismisses such information as irrelevant to youthful pursuits. After graduating from college, I had the privilege of doing work in the 217

field of alcohol, tobacco and drugs prevention at The Bobby E. Wright Comprehensive Behavioral Health Center. The focus was on the harmful effects of excessive tobacco use especially on the developing young. Tobacco being a leading cause of disease such as cancer and the most preventable cause of related death, I found the experience quite invaluable, strengthening my resolve to never smoke as well as my becoming a staunch advocate of antitobacco ideals. I was confident in the fact that I did not smoke, so tobacco related cancer was not a health concern for me-- no problem with addictions or the possible afflictions. I spent much time informing people in general and youth in particular about the dangers of alcohol, tobacco and other

218

drugs use and I am still to this day indirectly involved with doing this work.

Presently, I am Director of the African American Male Resource Center of Chicago State University, where I am afforded the opportunity to engage, embrace, educate, enlighten, empower, and encourage African males to succeed against the odds.

On the evening of July 1, 2013 I was experiencing physical discomfort in my chest, stomach and back that later required hospitalization. Subsequently, I was examined and tested and was surprised to learn after ruling out the possibility of a heart attack, there were two diagnoses. The first was for the 219

initial health issue. As serious as I considered that, it was minimized by the second diagnosis.

I recalled hearing of people who had cancer and I remember the mixed emotions and in my mind was the fact that it was not someone else this time and in my mind loomed the terrifying specter of cancer and the moot question was, how this could be? And then the doubt, the tacit question of why me and as time passed the question of what does this all mean.

I thought about my wife, children and all my loved ones. I thought about friends, work and the many people that I come in contact with daily in my professional life. I considered my spiritual relations with family and close friends. Then more questions: how bad is it? In retrospect, my spiritual self went 220

into denial that this was not the end. I believed I had a choice. I could succumb to fear or I could believe in the things at my disposal to remedy the situation. I could explore all available treatment. Thanks to the helpful advice from loving and concerned individuals, I am undaunted and have resolved to overcome this ordeal to focus on doing all that is necessary for the maximum effect in my recovery, to maintain a strong spirit , and to submit to the power of the Absolute, the love and support of family , friends and health workers involved with my treatment. We plan to continue spiritually strong and positive, content with the happiness shared. I will simply choose to live and let my life be a reflection of the love and concern given me.

221

While in the hospital it was determined after extensive blood test that my Prostate-specific antigen (PSA) where extremely high. I had a biopsy, after which we received the diagnosis of advance stage prostate cancer level IV and that it had metastasis. Thus far, my treatment interventions have included hormones therapy and immunotherapy along with a regiment of exercising, eating healthy and herbs and vitamins. .

Through it all it has truly been a team effort my family and friends.

Greetings Family & Friends: I extend to you the message of Love and Peace. I have heard it said that "life is war." In the context of 222

inevitable adversities such as conflict, obstacles and opposition, I say this true. I also say that all threats to one's well-being (mental, physical or spiritual) must be met boldly and with firm resolve if they cannot simply be ignored. I believe that there is no greater weapon than the power of the human spirit.

When engaged in unity with kindred spirits it is an awesome force, inspired by the omnipotence of the Creator. There are NO adversities in life where a unified support system is inessential for no battles in life are won alone. There is always the loving respect of family, friends, community and those connected by human compassion around you. For every battle, adversity...every obstacle...every conflict we have fought side by side, and our victories were made possible by the concerted and inspiring efforts of 223

those we've struggled with and those we've struggled for and those we've struggled because of.

This has always been a source of comfort and encouragement and I am eternally grateful to be so blessed.

To all who have honored me with the warmth of your spirits, I am and remain Your faithful, humble noble servant Dear family & friends , It is with a most profound feeling of gratefulness to the Absolute and the spiritual manifestations of your comfort and encouragement that I greet you.

Life presents many adversities, none of which are 224

overcome by individual efforts alone. The past year has been challenging and I feel especially blessed in spite of all that has transpired. It is difficult sometimes to articulate gratitude in the context of such displays of thoughtfulness as I have been blessed to receive from you all. I thank the Absolute for allowing me the privilege of being a part of your greatness. In being a part of you, I feel my life greatly improved.

I firmly believe that blessings flow from God, [The Absolute]...powers greater than me. And on this earthly plane, there is the Love of God personified by people genuinely concerned about the welfare of others, such as you. I am touched by these displays of empathy and kindness and they are very much 225

appreciated.

I find it difficult to truly express verbally the depths of my gratitude. I have received so many Love checks on a daily basis and feel they have enriched my life reinforced my commitment purpose and given it new meaning.

I am awed by the undeniable power of the human spirit. I have been reflecting on what I have always known. That is that no one exists without the collective spiritual support of others. It is most evident at such times we are spiritually challenged and most in need of the positivity of uplifting sentiments I feel most fortunate to be the recipient of and reciprocator of the love your kind words 226

inspire.

Adversity has a way of affirming our connectedness as spiritual beings to remind us that Love is all that matters. God is Love and Love is God. Again I as well as my family humbly thank everyone for their support and look forward continuing sharing my life with each of you Again I thank you so very much and remain, your Brother in the spirit of Love. I look forward to seeing all of you in the days to come Peace and Love.

Medase pa / Asante Sana / Modupe [Thank You] Kwesi Ronald Harris, Servant Leader 227

Chapter 9: Brittany My name is Brittany Jackson. I am 26 years old. I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in August 2011. To date, I have been lucky because although I experience relapses, I am without any debilitating symptoms. With support, faith, and medication, I have learned how to manage my fight with MS. I have decided to live more and fear MS less.

However, if you had asked me in 2011 what life was like, I would have cried you an entire river while explaining how unfair life was. It’s funny how things change. Thank you for allowing me to share my story with you!

228

Although it has only been three years since I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS), life before MS seems like FOREVER ago. If I had to think of one word to describe my life before MS, it would be BUSY. In 2009 I was a senior at the University of Maryland (Go Terps!). In addition to being a fulltime student majoring in Public Relations and carrying a 3.8 GPA, I had a part-time internship, worked part-time as a dance instructor, was the president of my college dance team and was preparing to represent my school at the esteemed Bateman Competition (a national public relations case study competition for college students). I thrived on having a full schedule and always had something to do. I did not believe in resting or

229

having a “chill” day…I had to be moving at all times. I repeat, ALL TIMES! Dance is my life! I have been dancing since I was three years old. Growing up, I trained in tap, jazz, ballet, lyrical and hip-hop. I competed locally and nationally from the time I was 6 until I was 16. I was captain of the pom-pom/ dance team in high school and president of my dance team in college. I am currently a choreographer of a competitive dance troupe for students ages 5 – 16. Of all the genres I have studied, tap is my absolute favorite. I often refer to it as my first love. No matter where I am or what I am doing, if there is music playing, I am tapping.

230

Around December 2009, I started to suffer from migraines. I started getting them once a week, which increased to twice a week, and then to every other day. By January 2010, I was dealing with migraines on a daily basis. I did not want to do anything except lay in bed all day, every day. The same girl who liked to rip and run EVERY SINGLE DAY, was willingly spending days in bed. After a month of these symptoms, my doctor recommended I get a brain MRI. I had never gotten an MRI before and didn’t know what the process was like. I was nervous, but my doctor informed me that if something was wrong with my report, she would contact me.

Normally, when a doctor says “no news is good news”, I am happy to not hear from them – but for

231

whatever reason, this time I knew there was some news to be told.

I hassled my doctor for my results. She assured me repeatedly there was nothing wrong with my MRI, but something in me did not believe that. On March 5, 2010, I decided to go down to the radiology center myself and asked for a copy of my report. The report revealed there were three lesions on my brain and the possibility for a multiple sclerosis diagnosis.

I had no idea what multiple sclerosis was at the time. When I thought of MS, all I thought about was people not being able to walk. Because I am a hardcore dancer, the thought of not being able to walk was terrifying. It was not only a hard pill for me to swallow, but it was a tough pill for my parents to 232

swallow as well, especially my daddy. Dad didn’t sleep at all the night I received my results; I could tell he was more scared than I was.

The next day, my parents and I met with a neurologist – let’s call him Dr. #1. He was a very frank older man who completely wrote off the possibility of MS. The doctor said I was too healthy, too active and too young to have MS, which were my sentiments exactly. This was a huge relief. I didn’t have MS. I could dance forever. Life was good.

Throughout 2010, I experienced abnormal tingling and numbing sensations in my legs and feet.

This eventually led to more discussions with more doctors about the possibility of MS. I received 233

numerous MRIs and went through so many physical examinations – all of which maintained that I did not have MS. Eventually, I found my way to the neurology department at John Hopkins, where I met a neurologist – let’s call him Dr. #2, who recommended that I get a spinal tap to put the MS rumors to bed once and for all. To date, my first spinal tap (yes, I had more than one) was one of the most painful experiences of my life. Nonetheless, the spinal tap came back negative for MS. I had dodged that bullet once again!

In May 2011, my migraines came back with vengeance! Dr. #2 recommended I get another MRI just to be safe. On May 5, I had another brain MRI done. A week later, I received a call at work from Dr. 234

#2 explaining that my latest MRI revealed four new lesions on my brain (for a total of seven) and that he was ready to move forward with an official Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis and wanted to begin treatment.

This was the same doctor who had just told me in December that I did not have MS. THE SAME DOCTOR! I decided he was wrong. I wasn’t ready to move forward with a diagnosis or treatment. I needed a second opinion.

I decided to go back to my first neurologist, Dr. #1 – you know, the one who told me I was too healthy, too active and too young to have MS. Surely, he would be on my side. I took my latest MRI film and reported to him, hoping that he would have something different to say. I needed him to have 235

something different to say. At this point, I still don’t even really know what MS was. I just know I couldn’t have it because I am a dancer and dancers can’t have that. He reviewed the film in silence for a while. “I agree with Dr. #2,” he says. I was devastated. How could it be that both of these doctors who were so sure that I did not have MS, were now telling me that I had MS? Guess what? I still did not believe them. I did not have MS. I needed a THIRD opinion.

In June 2011, I found my way to the National Institute of Health (NIH). Third time’s a charm, right? NIH prepared a rigorous 3 month diagnosis plan for me – which included multiple MRIs, physical exams, blood

236

tests and oh yea, ANOTHER spinal tap. If I received a positive diagnosis after all of this, I would accept it.

In the midst of all the testing business, I remember sitting downstairs and talking with my daddy one night. He started asking me if I had been doing research on the medications and reading any of the literature I had received on MS and I just busted out crying. I had not been reading anything. I did not want to read anything. I did not have MS. I did not want to have MS. In that moment, it all became very real to me. I could actually have this disease. What did that mean though? Did it mean that I would no longer be able to dance? Did it mean that I would never be able to achieve my lifelong dream of owning a dance studio? Did it mean I 237

would be in pain all the time? Did it mean that my busy life was over? I sat on my daddy’s lap and cried for what seemed like forever that night. Everything I had held in since I got that life changing call in May spilled out. My daddy consoled me and assured me that everything would be alright and that he would be there with me through everything. And at that moment, that was enough to make it alright.

On August 25, 2011, I received my second spinal tap. It was much easier the second time around. A week later, NIH confirmed the spinal tap came back positive for Multiple Sclerosis. What a devastating blow. Although my parents had been mentally preparing themselves for this news, I could tell they

238

were devastated, too. We were all praying for a different answer.

There was no way NIH could be wrong too, right? Part of me still wasn’t ready to accept it. And because I wasn’t ready to accept, I wasn’t ready to live like I had MS. The doctors all knew about my busy lifestyle and warned me about the importance of getting rest. They all warned me against overworking myself and informed me that stress could trigger symptoms and lead to a relapse (anytime symptoms last longer than 24 hours). But I was adamant about not letting MS change me. I pushed myself to the max every day after that. I never slowed down one bit. I didn’t even tell anyone other than my close friends and family. I didn’t want 239

anyone to look at me and see that hideous MS label on me. No way, no how.

December 3, 2011 was the start of my first relapse. I had this strong burning sensation in my right arm. My right arm was weak, and it felt like it weighed a ton. Eventually, the pain became so bad that I couldn’t sleep at night. I could barely use my right arm. To do the simplest tasks- such as opening a door or picking up a piece of paper- required so much effort. I was completely miserable and exhausted. This was it. I really had this disease.

On the fourteenth day of this torture, the fourteenth day of not being able to fully use my right arm, the fourteenth day of not sleeping, I 240

finally decided it was time to ask for help. I called Dr. Harrison told him what was going on. Later that evening, a nurse from Johns Hopkins arrived at my house, inserted an IV port into my arm and set up an IV stand in my bedroom. For the next five days, I would be hooked up to an IV station in my own bedroom. I was responsible for cleaning out my IV port, hooking myself up to and disconnecting myself from the IV and changing the IV bags. It was during these five days that I came to grips with the fact that I had MS; that my life would forever be changed.

After this episode, I decided it was time to begin medication (which I had been so strongly against up until this incident).

241

In January 2012, I made the decision to begin treatment. This would require me to give injections to myself once a week. If you were to ask anyone who knows me what my second biggest fear is, they would say NEEDLES (spiders have the number one spot on lock). Every time I even talked about having to give myself injections, I would cry. The idea of having to give myself injections weekly was just the worst thing ever.

One day in January, a nurse from Johns Hopkins came to my house to teach me how to give myself the injections. We injected a fake leg with water for like an hour before it became time for me to inject myself. I cried like a baby! My daddy even asked if I wanted him to inject himself first to show me 242

everything would be okay. (I am not sure if I mentioned this already, but I am a big time Daddy’s girl – you may have already picked up on this!)

Finally, I calmed down and stopped crying. It was time to face my fears. I took needle and jabbed in into my thigh. I guess it wasn’t so bad after all! Of course, I cried again, but these weren’t sad tears or scared tears. These were tears of joy. I did it! I faced my fears! I was ready to take this MS thing on.

2012 was a tough year for me. I struggled with giving myself injections. My MS medication was causing me to feel sick regularly and I suffered from frequent relapses. I felt like MS was kicking my ass, but couldn’t let anyone know that. Everyone knows me as this tough, strong-willed, never back down 243

type of woman. I couldn’t let anyone know I was hurting. I made such an effort to hide my pain and frustration from everyone, but I was struggling. I cried a lot when I was alone – I would cry in the car, in the shower, in my room at night. I knew I could have talked to my family and friends about it, but I didn’t want to. All anyone would tell me is “everything is going to be okay” and “things will get better.” But everything was not going to be okay and everything was not going to get better. Life as I had known it was over and no matter how hard I tried to deny it or fight it, things would never be the same again. I was angry. I felt like this was totally unfair. I went to church regularly and I prayed daily – why would God allow this to happen to me? Why would He want me to be in pain all the time? What had I 244

done to deserve something like this? I was just so angry.

I went through a small bout of depression in the summer of 2012 and had to take leave from work.

My doctor prescribed me an anti-depressant and referred me to a therapist. I only had one session with the therapist. Sometime during that session, I snapped out of it. I heard myself talking to the doctor and thought, “who is this person?” Why was I letting this MS thing have so much power over me? I am a very determined, STUBBORN, opinionated, hard-working young woman; there was no reason for me to be sitting in this man’s office crying about how unfair life was. I was strong enough to handle this. That’s why God gave me this disease. He knew I 245

was strong enough. He knew I could be an inspiration to someone else fighting the same battle.

He knew this would make me stronger. And let me tell you, I am so much stronger. That day, I walked out of that therapist’s office and decided I would never allow MS to bring me to such a low place again. That day, I vowed I would never allow myself to feel defeated or give up on myself. It was my turn to kick some MS ass; and I haven’t looked back since.

Today, I still struggle with the pain. There have been times where I’ve had to be on a steroid cocktail of 24 pills a day to stop the pain. There are days where I don’t have the energy or strength to get out of bed. There are days that I cry out of frustration, but there is never a day that I feel like MS is winning.

246

There is never a day that I feel defeated. I still live a super busy life - I currently work full time, am a parttime graduate student at Georgetown University and I still teach dance part-time (yes, I am still dancing). I still thrive on having a completely full schedule, but I do recognize the importance of downtime now.

Being diagnosed with an incurable disease is definitely a game changer. It forced me to change my entire perspective on life. I was reminded that life is so precious. Every day is truly a gift that should be valued and not taken for granted. I have learned not to sweat the small stuff and am constantly readjusting my focus to become the best person I can possibly be. Things that used to seem SO 247

IMPORTANT just don’t seem important anymore.

You know what is important? – God, family, friends, creating moments that you will never forget, laughter and happiness.

If I could go back in time and talk to that devastated 23 year old version of me, I would tell her: “Everything really is going to be okay. I know you are scared right now, but you are so much stronger than you think you are. You have no idea how strong you are. It is okay to cry. It is okay to ask for help. It is okay to not be okay. This does not mean you are weak. It means you are human. You are so loved and do not have to go through this alone. You cannot do it all alone. God is not punishing or abandoning you.

He is using you to fulfill a much bigger purpose. It 248

won’t all make sense right now, but one day it will.

Take it one day at a time. You will find your way. I am so proud of you. I love you.�

I am so thankful for my family and friends who have been there with me every step of the way. My daddy held my hand through both spinal taps and still has not missed a single appointment. My mom is always there to give me the words of encouragement and inspiration to get me back on track and focused on my bad days. My little sister is always there to give me a pep talk and remind me that I am in the control of this MS thing, not the other way around. My friends have been incredibly supportive and are always there if I need to vent or

249

cry and are always willing to substitute a girls night out for a sleepover if I need to rest Because of my diagnosis, I am much stronger physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I have had young women reach out to me on social media to ask about my story and how I manage to remain so positive through it all. I know this was God’s purpose for me. He needed me to be an example to other young women who may feel like they can’t do it. I will continue to uplift, support and comfort others who have been diagnosed with this disease. Hopefully one day a cure will be found and no one will have to say they have MS. In the meantime, I will continue to kick some MS ass!

250

The Book with No Conclusion There you have it. A collection of 10 life stories presented to let you know that life happens to all of us and no matter what you can win. Discuss it and share your story with people that you know. You never know whom you may heal.

This collection of stories was created with the sole intent to inspire you to live on purpose. To know that as long as you are doing your very best at this life there is nothing more than anyone can ask of you. Do more for those that you know may be struggling. If you are fighting Cancer, Multiple Scorsese, or anything else know that you are not

251

alone and you got this. Never stop pushing with a smile; this world needs more champions.

252

Acknowledgments I WOULD LIKE TO THANK JESUS CHRIST MY PERSONAL LORD AND SAVIOR WITHOUT YOU!! WITHOUT YOU THERE IS NOTHING IT’S THAT SIMPLE!!!

MOMMY I WOULD LIKE TO THANK CASSANDRA SAMUEL'S FOR BEING MY SUPERHERO MOM, YOU HAVE CREATED 3 INCREDIBLE CHILDREN DEDICATED YOUR LIFE TO OUR DREAMS AND OUR SUCCESSES. YOU ARE THE BIGGEST SUPPORTER OF US, AND IT IS INCREDIBLE THE MAN YOU HAVE CREATED 253

ME INTO, IM NOT THERE YET BUT I WOULDN'T BE ANYWHERE WITHOUT YOU. I MEAN YOU TAKE CARE OF ME MY BROTHER AND SISTER OUR HOUSEHOLD ALL OF OUR PETS YOU ASSIST WITH EVERY IDEA EVERY BUSINESS EVERY DREAM. YOU CAME TO ALL MY BASKETBALL GAMES MA AND JUST SUPPORTED ME THROUGH IT ALL I WATCH YOU AND I GET MY HEART FROM YOU MY PERSEVERANCE AND MY ATTITUDE. MA THE LORD IS GOING TO BLESS YOU ON ANOTHER LEVEL WHEN IT'S TIME FOR US TO GO SEE HIM, OFTEN TIMES I JOKE THAT I WILL NOT SEE YOU IN HEAVEN BECAUSE YOU WILL BE THAT HIGH UP. I MEAN YOU ARE AN ANGEL MA ANYTHING WE HAVE FAITH IN YOU HAVE FAITH IN, I WOULD 254

NOT HAVE MADE IT THROUGH ANY JOURNEY THAT I HAVE HAD WITHOUT YOU. YOU KEEP ME LEVEL HEADED AND GROUNDED. YOU ALWAYS PROMOTE MY IDEAS AND INSTILL IN ME TO BELIEVE IN MYSELF. I KNOW HOW TO TREAT A WOMAN BECAUSE OF YOU MOM. I KNOW HOW TO BE A MAN TO MY FUTURE FAMILY BECAUSE OF YOU, I DISAGREE WITH A WOMAN CAN’T RAISE A MAN, YOU RAISED ME. YES A FATHER IS NEEDED IN A HOUSEHOLD BUT CHILDREN ADAPT AND I THANK YOU MA I LOVE YOU. THANK YOU FOR INTRODUCING ME TO ATTEMPTING TO LIVE LIFE THE RIGHT WAY MA. LOVE YOU TO HEAVEN AND BACK CASSANDRA E SAMUEL'S. 255

SHAWN (BROTHER)MY BIG BROTHER/FATHER, MY GANGSTER, MY STRENGTH. EVERY BATTLE I’VE EVER HAD I UNDERSTOOD I COULD AND WOULD MAKE IT THROUGH BECAUSE YOU WOULD BE THERE TO FIGHT ANY AND EVERY BATTLE WITH ME FOR ME, AND IN MY EAR. MY SUCCESSES AND BASKETBALL DO NOT EXIST WITHOUT YOU. PLAYING THE GAME, THEY DO NOT EXISTS WITHOUT YOU PROMOTING THE GAME TO ME, AND WANTING ME TO BE BETTER THAN YOU. YOU HAD TO GROW UP EARLY TO TAKE CARE OF ME AND SIS. I CANNOT EVER REPAY YOU BUT I PRAY ONE DAY I CAN. YOU HAVE GIVEN UP YOUR LIFE FOR (DA 256

FAMILY) YOU TALK ALL THE TIME YOU THINK WE IGNORE YOU MAN WE HEAR YOU, WE DO AND WE ARE TRYING. IVE NEVER BEEN SCARED TO DO ANYTHING. AND OUTSIDE OF GOD MAN IT'S HONESTLY BECAUSE OF YOU I KNOW YOU WILL ROCK WITH ME UNTIL THE WHEELS FALL OFF THEN PICK THE CAR UP AND WALK WITH THAT, DROP THE CAR WALK TOGETHER AND IF I STUMBLE PUT ME ON YOUR BACK AND CARRY ME THE REST OF THE WAY, OUR BOND IS THAT REAL!! MAN LOVEEEEEEEEEE MY BIG BROTHER IS BEYOND INCREDIBLE!!!!!! AND THIS @CHEFSHAWNSAMUELS THING IS YOU MAN THIS IS YOUR CALLING YOUR CULINARY CREATIONS THE LORD HAS BLESSED YOU 257

WITH A GREAT GIFT USE IT. EVERYONE PLEASE SUPPORT MY BROTHER AND HIS BUSINESS MAN HE BEYOND DESERVES IT @CHEFSHAWNSAMUELS ON INSTAGRAM.

BERNICE (SIS)MAN YOU ARE MY BEST FRIEND, MY SISTER, MY HOMEY, MY ROCKING FOR WHATEVER. YOU ALWAYS KEPT ME FRESH YOU ALWAYS GAVE ME MONEY, SUPPORTED ME WITH BALL, WOULD FIGHT ANYONE WITH ME AND FOR ME. DO MY WORK FOR ME IF IT GOT THAT BAD, SHOWED ME THAT A YOUNG BLACK MAN CAN BE EDUCATED I CHASE AFTER YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE THE SMART ONE OF THE FAMILY. I AM THE ATHLETE, BUT I 258

FINISH SCHOOL TO KEEP UP WITH YOU, YOU PUSH ME. YOUR SANITY THROUGH LOOSING JAMES HAS BEEN RIDICULOUS I MEAN YOU PUT THIS PROJECT TOGETHER AFTER LOOSING THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE LITERALLY. YOUR DRIVE SINCE HIS PASSING HAS BEEN INCREDIBLE AND GOD SEES YOU SIS TRUST ME THIS WILL BE AMAZING BECAUSE YOU ARE. ANYONE WHO DOESNT SEE US THEY WILL TRUST. WE ROCKED FROM GOING TO SCHOOL TOGETHER AS KIDS TO ME LEAVING THE HOUSE FOR BALL AT 14 AND YOU DRIVING TO COME AND GET ME JUST TO TAKE ME TO THE MOVIES WITH MY FRIENDS YOU WERE ONLY 17 TAKING 3 6 HOUR ROAD TRIPS FOR MY HAPPINESS. LIKE I WILL NEVER FORGET 259

THAT MAN YOU WILL WOULD AND DO ANYTHING FOR ME MAN SERIOUSLY ITS CRAZY MY SUPPORT SYSTEM IS ONE OF A KIND AND YOU ARE ONE OF THE MAJOR REASONS.

TO THE WRITERS I THANK ALL OF YOU FOR TAKING THIS RIDE WITH US, MAN IT MEANS THE WORLD TO MY SISTER AND TO I. FOR YOU GUYS SUPPORTING HER, I PRAY THAT YOU ALL GET TO YOUR WILDEST DREAMS FROM THIS PROJECT BECAUSE YOU ALL DESERVE IT. YOUR FIGHTS LIGHT MY LIFE UP WHENEVER I THINK I AM GOING TO GIVE UP, I KEEP GOING BECAUSE I THINK ABOUT ALL THE SURGERIES THE CHEMO'S 260

AND THE BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS THAT GOES INTO YOU GUYS FIGHT AND I KEEP IT GOING. COCO, KIMBO, DYCE GREG, BROTHER KWESI, RACHEL, BRITTANY YOU GUYS ARE INCREDIBLE. JPIX, THANKS FOR ALWAYS SUPPORTING MY SIS IN THIS PROJECT AND IN OTHERS AS WELL. JOHN PIGATTI LOVE YOU TO DEATH COACH YOU SAVED MY LIFE. SOUTH SUBURBAN CC AND YOUR BASKETBALL PROGRAM. MADE ME A NEW PERSON. YOU SET MY LFIE ON A TRACK TO BE SUCCESSFUL. YOU ALWAYS TOOK CARE OF ME BUT MADE ME BE A MAN AT THE SAME TIME, YOU ARE A FATHER FIGURE TO ME MAN. YOU HONESTLY OWED AND OWE ME 261

NOTHING AND YOU GAVE ME SO MUCH MAN. I WILL FOREVER AND NEVER FORGET YOUR CONTRIBUTION TO MY LIFE. THE PERRY'S MAN I LOVE YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY MAN. MR. AND MRS. PERRY I WILL MODEL MY MARRIAGE AFTER YOU GUYS. YOUR SONS TONY ANTOINE AND AARON ARE MY BROTHERS MY COUSINS MY FRIENDS AND THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME AND MY SUCCESS. YOUR ENTIRE WALK WITH CHRIST REMINDS ME TO TRY TO LIVE AS RIGHT AS I CAN AND MAKE MYSELF AS ACCOUNTABLE AS I CAN, YOU GUYS WILL OPEN YOUR HOUSE TO ANYONE THAT NEEDS HELP THE LORD SEES THAT. COUSIN DRE WHAT UP LOVE YOU MAN YOU WERE 262

THERE FOR ME AS WELL MAN ALWAYS ROCKING OUT FOR WHATEVER. MAN I LOVE YALL HONESTLY, MR. PERRY OUTSIDE OF MY BROTHER AND MY COACH PIGATTI YOU ARE ONE OF THE ONLY OTHER MEN I RESPECT YOU HAVE DONE SO MUCH FOR ME ITS INCREDIBLE I LOVE YALL MAN SERIOUSLY. MRS. PERRY YOU ARE MY SECOND MOM HANDS DOWN MAN YOU OPENED YOUR HOUSE TO ME FROM DAY ONE AND ALLOWED ME TO ALWAYS BE APART OF YOUR FAMILY AND I CAN NEVER REPLACE THAT FEELING. TONY MAN YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS WHENEVER WHER EVER WHATEVER TIME ITS DONE. ANTOINE AND AARON "ACE" THE SAME APPLIES MY LITTLE BROTHERS LOVE YALL DUDES MAN 263

SERIOUSLY…..

PETTIS/ COACH PETTIS MRS.PETTIS MY LITTLE BROTHER MY MAN BESTFRIEND FROM 11 UNTIL FOREVER MAN WE ROCKING I THANK YOUR FATHER FOR THE WAY HE LOOKS OUT FOR US MAN. I THANK YOU FOR STAYING CRAZY, ALL OVER THE PLACE GETTING ON MY NERVES BUT ALWAYS HOLDING ME DOWN. ME AND MY CRAZY IDEAS AND DECISIONS I KNOW YOU GOTTA ANSWER ALOT OF QUESTIONS FOR MY ACTONS MAN I THANK YOU FOR THAT MAN. YOU KNOW WE DOWN THROUGH WHATEVER WHENEVER WHEREVER ITS BEEN THAT WAY AND IT WONT CHANGE MAN 264

LOVE YOU MAN 4 REAL!!!!

COACH P MAN I GREATLY APPRECIATE YOU FOR EVERYTHING MAN. YOU ALWAYS SUPPORTED ALWAYS BELIEVED. SPENT AMPLE TIME OPENING THE GYM UP FOR ME EVEN IF YOU HAD SOMETHING TO DO MAN, YOU ARE THE TRUE DEFINITION OF A SELFLESS PERSON, I PRAY GOD BLESSES YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU DO FOR KID MAN, AND MY GOD DAUGHTER RYIAN. YOU ARE A GREAT MAN AND A GREAT FATHER FIGURE I LOOK UP TO YOU. YOU COACH LOU WILSON AND COACH TURNER AND BARNES MAN, YALL ALL REALLY PLAYED THE BIGGEST ROLE IN MY PROGRESSION AS A YOUNG ATHLETE I THANK YOU MEN FOR 265

THAT! LOVE YOU COACH P MAN FOR REAL LIKE THE THINGS YOU HAVE DONE FOR ME HAVE BEEN UNLIMITED MAY GOD BLESS YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU DO FOR KIDS YOU REALLY DESERVE AN AWARD!!! MRS.PETTIS THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS OPENING YOUR HOME TO ME, I THANK YOU FOR YOUR HUSBAND AND SON THEY BOTH MEAN SO MUCH TO ME AND I KNOW I WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO HAVE SO MUCH TIME WITH THEM IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU! DA FAMILY FAMILY AUNTIE I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR BEING THERE UNCLE JERRI BELL 266

THANKS FOR ALWAYS COMING TO MY GAMES LOVE U. MY LITTLE BROTHERS CHRIS MARCUS MY LITTLE SISTER NATALIE I LOVE YALL. COUSIN GREG STOP BEING CRAZY MAN PRAYING FOR YOU EVERYDAY TO GET HEALTHY STAY YOURSELF YOU ARE ONE OF A KIND. OLDER BROTHER RASHLEIGH LOVE YOU MAN THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS HOLDING SHAWN DOWN. JEROME THANKS FOR STAYING BY SHAWN MAN LOVE YOU MOVE FROM B MORE FINALLY AND COME THIS WAY. NEPHEW MARQUIS I LOVE YOU MAN KEEP PUSHING IT WILL HAPPEN JUST GOTTA BE PATIENT. COUSIN JODI I LOVE YOU LIL CUZ. BOO UP IN PHILLY I SEE U WORKING CUZ I LOVE YOU AND THE FAM MEOSHI I LOVE 267

YOU TO DEATH YOU NEED TO MOVE DOWN HERE WITH US. COUSIN MAN TUTT JERRI YACHT WONT FORGET THE TIMES WE HAD GROWING UP I LOVE YALL. AUNTIE GAYLE MARSHA AND SHERYL LOVE YALL. DIA NAILA COME AROUND MORE OFTEN STOP PLAYING LOVE YALL. THOUGH LOL DIA MORE THAN NAILA BECAUSE SHE COMES AROUND MORE LOL. AUNTIE LEAH OUT LONDON I LOVE YOU ONE OF MY FAVORITE PEOPLE I MISS YOU AUNTIE

LILLIAN SAMUELS (GRANDMA) WHO ALSO LOST HER BATTLE OT 268

CANCER. GRANDMA I LOVE YOU, YOU WERE ONE OF THE BEST ELEMENTS OF OUR FAMILY HANDS DOWN. I KNOW WHO I AM, AND WHERE I AM FROM BECAUSE OF YOU. I KEEP GUYANA CLOSE TO MY HEART AND IT REALLY ALL STARTED WITH YOUR TEACHINGS. SOFT SPOKEN BUT YET STAND UP WOMAN GRANDMA I LOVE YOU ALWAYS YOU WILL FOREVER BE MISSED.THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING LOVE YOU. (RIP)KEVIN JAMES MAN I THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR CONTRIBUTION TO MY BROTHER AND MYSELF MAN YOU ALWAYS KEPT IT REAL I MISS OUR TALKS ALREADY I LOVE YOU MAN. SOMEONE CUT YOUR LIFE SHORT AND THEY WILL HAVE TO DEAL 269

WITH THAT, BUT WHILE YOU WERE HERE MAN YOU WERE INCREDIBLE TO ME AND MY ENTIRE FAMILY YOU WILL STAY IN MY HEART FOREVER. YOUR WORKOUTS ARE THE BEST AND CANNOT BE REPLACED I WILL KEEP THEM UP FOR YOU MISS YOU MAN!!!!

LESLIE BALLARD THANK YOU FOR BEING A BIG BROTHER TO ME MAN AND TRAINING ME AND TAKING MY GAME TO THE NEXT LEVEL BSI FAMILY FOR LIFE. I KNOW I BEEN DISTANT BUT THIS PROJECT AND SCHOOL HAS BEEN KICKING MY BUTT MAN SO MY TIME HAS BEEN LIMITED. BUT YOU ARE MY MAN I APPRECIATE EVERYTHING SO MANY DUDES TAKE YOU FOR GRANTED AND I 270

WANTED TO TAKE THIS TIME OUT AND SAY YOUR EFFORTS HAVE NOT BEEN OVERLOOKED I LOVE YOU MAN 4 REAL!!

STAY THE PERSON YOU ARE. SUNGOD MAN WE HAVE NOT KNOWN EACH OTHER THAT LONG MAN BUT YOU JUST SENT ME THE FIRST PROMO VIDEO MAN YOU ARE YOUNG TALENTED MAN AND A GREAT DUDE MAN KEEP YOUR HEAD ON STRAIGHT MAN AND DO THIS VIDEO THING FOR REAL MAN YOU HAVE A GIFT MAN I THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTRIBUTIONS! LOVE MAN JAMES JONES/ KENNY BURKES JONES!!!!

MY MAN I MET THROUGH MY BROTHER 271

KENNY AND HIS LITTLE BROTHER MARKIE MAN. JONES YOU FAMILY NOW I APPRECIATE YOUR HELP WITH THIS PROJECT MAN YOU HAVE BEEN A SAINT THROUGH THIS ENTIRE PROJECT FOR REAL MAN THANK YOU. KENNY MY BROTHER MY PARTNER IN CRIME ON THAT COURT MAN MISS YOU MAN LOVE YOU BROTHER CHERISH OUR RELATIONSHIP MAN I MISS YOU GOT TO MAKE IT TO NY MORE MAN YOU KNOW HOW WE GO, KISS YOUR BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER FOR ME MAN LOVE BROTHER. I’M ALWAYS ONE PHONE CALL AWAY FOR WHATEVER. KEITH VENEY I THANK YOU FOR THE OUTLET YOU HAVE GIVEN ME TO PLAY THE 272

GAME AND GET BETTER. FROM COLLEGE TO NOW I THANK YOU MAN YOU HAVE TAUGHT ME A GREAT DEAL. I CHERISH YOU MAN LOVE YOU TO DEATH. REGARDLESS OF WHATEVER YOU ARE MY MAN NO ONE CAN REPLACE THE OUTLET YOU GAVE ME MAN YOU ARE A GREAT ROLE MODEL APPRECIATE YOU!!!! THAT VMG WHAT UP AJ APPRECIATE YOU BOY!!

DAD I LOVE YOU. YOU HAVE HELD ME DOWN FINANCIALLY THROUGH A LOT. ALWAYS WAS THERE IN THAT WAY. BUT YOU GOT SOME CHANGES YOU NEED TO MAKE… AND IT'S NOT TOO LATE TO CHANGE, I GROW AS A MAN BECAUSE OF A LOT OF YOUR MISTAKES, I WISH THAT I 273

WAS GROWING FROM HANDS ON EXAMPLES YOU SET IN PLACE FOR ME. BUT EITHER WAY I AM GROWING SO I THANK YOU! CHICAGO MY GUYS LEE D'JARI JAMIL LOVE YALL DUDES MAN. SERIOUSLY YALL HOLD ME DOWN FROM ALL THE WAY IN THE CHI. MAN THE WAY I LOVE CHICAGO YALL HAVE ALOT TO DO WITH IT. SOMEONE HAS TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT ALL THAT VIOLENCE UP THERE MAN THE CHI HAS GOT TO GET BETTER. ALL IN ALL THATS MY SECOND HOME REGARDLESS OF WHATEVER. YALL DUDES STARTED AS COLLEGE TEAMMATES AND WE HAVE BUILT A GREAT RELATIONSHIP MAN AARON CLARKE COREY MY LIL BROTHERS LOVE 274

YALL DUDES TOO MAN NEVER CHANGE MAN FOR REAL. YALL KNOW HOW WE ROCK!! SSC BROTHERS ISIAH AND SULTAN MY LIL BROTHERS MAN WE HAD A BLAST OVER THERE CUTTING UP AND RUNNING FOR OUR LIVES MAN YALL ARE GREAT DUDES MAN ALWAYS BEEN 100 WITH ME I APPRECIATE THAT MAN DONT NEVER CHANGE FOR REAL!! LOVE! RANDALL MY BROTHER MAN I DONT THROW THAT TERM AROUND MAN WE BEEN HOOPING WITH EACH OTHER SINCE KIDS MAN, RAN IN DIFFERENT CIRCLES AND LIFE JUST BROUGHT US BACK TOGETHER. LOVE YOUR BABY GIRL LIKE SHES MY OWN MAN MS. SISSY MOMS MAN LOVE HER LIKE SHE IS 275

MY OWN MAN. YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS, MAN ITS WHATEVER WHENEVER WHEREVER WE ROCKING OUT!!! LOVE MAN WE GONNA MAKE IT OUT HERE THATS A PROMISE. LIL BRIAN MY LITTLE MAN KEEP ROCKING WITH THIS BBALL THING MAN YOU REMIND ME OF ME IN ALOT OF WAYS. MAN LOVE YOU MAN YOUR LIKE A LITTLE BROTHER TO ME MAN WE GOING TO GET TO IT, JUST KEEP PUSHING KEEP WORKING HARD MAN. LOVE YOU MAN FOR REAL. LISTEN TO YOUR POPS MAN BIG B YOU DID A GREAT JOB WITH B MAN, I SEE YOU OUT THERE WORKING CRAZY HOURS TO PROVIDE. THATS AN EXAMPLE TO THE 276

BOTH OF US LOVE MAN APPRECIATE YOU!!

CRYSTAL MAN THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING 1000 KEEPING IT REAL. FOR MY SIS AND EVERYTHING YOU HAVE DONE YOU ALWAYS HELD IT DOWN YOUR BROTHER JAMES WAS MY BROTHER MAN ANYTHING YOU NEED YOU KNOW WE GOT YOU LOVE YOU!!!

SAM YOU’RE INCREDIBLE NEVER CHANGE. NEVER FOR NOTHING. YOUR CONTRIBUTION TO MY LIFE HAS BEEN CRAZY I CANT THANK YOU ENOUGH. YOU HAVE INCREDIBLE POTENTIAL TO DO ANYTHING YOU WANT. DO NOT DOUBT YOURSELF, HAVE CONFIDENCE AND FAITH 277

THAT IT WILL WORKOUT. LOVE JAYMIE and Dora SO MUCH OF MY TIME WAS SPENT AT YOUR HOUSE THOSE MEMORIES I WILL NEVER FORGET. THE CREW DAVE, PETTIS, JUSTIN, DENISE, MELO, MARCUS, TONY, BIG RON, CARL ON HIS CRAZY NIGHTS LOL I LOVE ALL YALL! MELLO WE NEED THAT VIDEO. BUT NAH MAN JUST SLEEPING OVER EVERY NIGHT THE SUMMERS WERE EPIC I WILL FOREVER CHERISH THOSE MEMORIES. JAY YOU ARE MY SISTER LOVE YOU FOR EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS HOLD ME DOWN AND COME THRU NO MATTER WHAT MY SISTER FOREVER THATS IRREPLACEABLE. 278

YOU KNOW WHATEVER YOU NEED YOU AND RYIAN ITS WHATEVER. DORA YOU LENT US YOUR HOUSE LIKE WE PAYED RENT AND WOULD ONLY GIVE ADVICE, AND LET US LEARN FROM OUR MISTAKES I LOVE YOU LIKE A MOTHER. I HAVE TO START COMING BACK AROUND MORE OFTEN THATS IS MY FAULT I WILL APOLOGIZE FOR THAT BUT YOUR PLACE IN MY HEART WILL NEVER LEAVE LOVE YOU!!!! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!! LOVE EVERYBODY I

IAN SMITH I MET YOU AT A TIME WHERE I WAS STILL YOUNG IN MY MIND AND EDUCATION 279

WASNT A FIRST PRIORITY. I WAS APPREHENSIVE TO SAY THE LEAST ABOUT MY EDUCATIONAL FUTURE. AND YOU SHOWED ME THAT I WAS SMART “LIMITLESS” IN YOUR WORDS AND I HAD ALL THE OPPORTUNITY IN THE WORLD. YOU HONESTLY SHOWED ME THAT I WAS CAPABLE, CHANGED MY VIEW OF EDUCATION AND HELP ME BREAK DOWN THAT BARRIER IN MY LIFE, THE SAT. MADE ME UNDERSTAND HOW SMART AND GIFTED I WAS MAN I CAN NEVER REPAY YOU FOR THAT. EVERY KID NEEDS A YOU IN THEIR LIFE. PEACE AND LOVE!!!!!!

CHRIS WRIGHT AARON HENDERSON 280

GOD BLESS YOU 2 BROTHERS MAN. COACH WRIGHT YOU GAVE ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO SHOWCASE MY TALENT MORE IMPORTANTLY YOU OPENED UP A DOOR FOR ME TO GET MY MASTERS AND THAT’S SOMETHING THAT I COULD NEVER REPAY YOU FOR!!!

HENDO MAN YOU ARE ONE OF THE GREATEST SINGLE PEOPLE I HAVE EVER MET IN MY LIFE. YOU ARE THE EPITOME OF A ROLE MODEL A GREAT PERSON MAN YOU ARE LIKE MOTHER THERESA PEOPLE DONT EXIST IN THIS WORLD LIKE YOU. YOU WERE MY TUTOR MY CHAUFFEUR MY COACH AND A FRIEND FOR MY ENTIRE TIME OUT THERE 281

IN FRESNO. GOD WILL FOREVER BLESS YOU FOR THAT YOU ARE A GREAT PERSON MAN LOVE YOU GUYS FOR THAT FOR REAL!!!!!

“MOM DIANE FOUNTAIN” CHAZ GREEN MOM 2 YOU ALWAYS TOLD ME TO CALL YOU MOM. MOM YOU HELPED ME UNDERSTAND THAT COLOR DOESNT EXIST. MOM YOU ARE ABOUT 5”2 AND 120 POUNDS AND YOU ARE A WHITE WOMAN, AND I KNOW PEOPLE ARE LIKE SO WHAT. BUT I WAS 19 YEARS OLD 6 FEET AND 215 POUNDS BLACK KID WITH BRAIDS. YOU ARE FROM THE COUNTRY AND IM FROM A CITY, YET YOU OPENED YOUR 282

HOME TO ME AND YOUR FAMILY, I WILL FOREVER LOVE YOU FOR THE THINGS YOU DID FOR ME. AND ALSO FOR SHOWING ME THAT RACE AND COLOR DOESNT MATTER, IT DIDN’T MATTER YOU JUST SAW ME AS A YOUNG KID THAT WANTED TO DO SOMETHING POSITIVE. I WOULD GET EMOTIONAL SOMETIMES ON HOW MUCH YOU CARED ABOUT A KID THAT YOU HARDLY KNEW AND TREATED ME LIKE YOUR OWN, YOU BELIEVED IN ME AND THAT HAS TAKEN ME SO FAR, YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO TRUST IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS I THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THAT, WE HAVENT TALKED IN A WHILE BUT I PRAY EVERYTHING IS WELL!! LOVE YOU!! I CAN STILL HEAR YOU SAYING SWOLE YOU 283

HUNGRY??? I KNOW YOU KIDS ARE GROWING BOYS AND YOU GUYS EAT ALOT, WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM THE GROCERY STORE?? OR WHEREVER YOU WENT I WAS ALWAYS INCLUDED. THANK YOU SO MUCH MOM.

CHAZ MY BROTHER WE SHARED A VITAL TIME IN MY LIFE TOGETHER MAN WE SHARED THE LOVE FOR THE GAME AND EVERYTHING ELSE, YOU ALSO SHOWED ME THAT A BLACK AND WHITE KID FROM 2 DIFFERENT PLACES CAN BE SO MUCH ALIKE IT’S CRAZY MAN. I LOVE THAT AND LOVE YOU AND YOUR FAMILY BROTHER!!! BLESS. 284

PASTOR PERRY MRS. PERRY/TWAN PASTOR PERRY MAN I DONT KNOW WHERE TO START WALT CALLED YOU AND YOU TOOK ME INTO YOUR HOME AND COUNCIL-ED ME AT A YOUNG AGE, AND GAVE ME A PLACE TO STAY, TAUGHT ME ABOUT THE LORD THE GAME, BUT FURTHERMORE MAN YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO RAISE A FAMILY AND HOW TO BE A FATHER. GOD BLESS YOU AND YOUR MINISTRY MAN I WILL FOREVER FEEL APART OF YOUR FAMILY!! MRS.PERRY THANK YOU AS WELL FOR OPENING YOUR DOORS TO ME AND BEING THAT MOTHERLY VOICE OVER ME DURING THAT TIME, YOU WERE A HUGE PART OF MY SUPPORT SYSTEM I THANK 285

GOD FOR YOU AND YOUR HUSBANDS KINDNESS!!

TWAN MY CRAZY LITTLE BROTHER MAN YOUR POPS REALLY WAS FATHERING US TOGETHER YOU ME AND YOUR LITTLE BROTHER TRYING TO RAISE SOME GOOD YOUNG MEN! IM PROUD OF YOU MAN I VALUE OUR RELATIONSHIP JUST WANTED TO TELL YOU AND YOUR BROTHER AND SISTER MAN THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOUR POPS AND MOMS WITH ME.

JENARD RASHAUN RA MAN WE WAS ROOMMATES IT SEEMS 286

LIKE EVERYWHERE, HIGH SCHOOL TEAMMATES AAU THE WHOLE 9. IM PROUD OF YOU MAN FOR REAL WE MADE IT PEOPLE DOUBTED YOU TO THE UPMOST AND YOU ALWAYS JUST KEPT WORKING, MAN WE HAVE UNLIMITED MEMORIES I WOULDN'T HAVE RATHER HAD ANY OTHER 2 GUARD MAN LOVE YOU MY MAN FOR REAL!!! LOVE NARD YOU CAME TO THE TEAM MAN AND SOME TYPE OF WAY ME YOU AND RA JUST CLICKED THE GROUP TURNED INTO THREE DUDES WE WAS THE BACKCOURT AAU SQUIRES BOYS THAT BLACK AND GREEN. WE WOULD ALWAYS BE DOWN FOR WHATEVER AND IT’S STILL THAT WAY TODAY MAN YOU LIKE A BIG BROTHER TO 287

ME MAN I ALWAYS ADMIRED YOUR GAME AND YOUR ATTITUDE MAN NAZAY GOT A GREAT POPS MAN WE GONNA KEEP THIS THING GOING WE GONNA GET TO IT I PROMISE YOU! LOVE

GRANDMA MS.GINA AUNT BUNNY CARL I WOULD LIKE TO THANK YOU THREE STRONG WOMEN FOR ALWAYS HELPING ME OUT WHENEVER I NEEDED SOMETHING, OFFERING YOUR HOUSE UP TO ME SUPPORTING ME. YOU THREE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THERE ANYTIME I HAVE NEEDED ANYTHING AND I LOVE YALL FOR THAT. GRANDMA YOU RAISED 2 FANTASTIC WOMEN AND THEY HAVE BLESSED ME. 288

MS.GINA YOU ALWAYS HELP ME WHENEVER WHERE EVER I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU FOR THAT MY FAMILY INCLUDED. CARL YOU HOLD ME DOWN WHENEVER I NEED SOMETHING AND ALOT OF TIMES WHEN I DONT. YOU ARE A GREAT PERSON MAN AND IT REALLY REFLECTS HOW THESE STRONG WOMEN RAISED YOU. I LOVE YOU BROTHER APPRECIATE YOU MAN FOR REAL!!!

289

Meet the Authors

Kimberly Formales

Jermaine Turner

@kimbojangles_

@jpixstudio

290

Candace Brown

Gregory Collins

@dycelovesu

@gmeriq

Brittany Coco Nicole

Brittany Jackson

@wutscocodoin

@smack_like_jack

291

Matt Samules @daprince21

Rachel Henley @rachellhenley

292

Meet the Graduated

James Watts

Patricia Moore

4/22/1982 – 3/03/20

293

Procedures

294

295