My parents have told me this story several times but I don’t remember it. I went in to the hospital because I was dragging my right foot when I walked when I was almost 2 years old. During the luminary check nothing was found wrong with me. They, the doctors, performed several more tests but still couldn’t find the cause of the dragging. The last test they did before I left was an ultra sound. The nurse who was performing it saw an abnormal object and he so called in another nurse not knowing what it was. Well that nurse didn’t know what it was either so that nurse called in another nurse who called in the doctor who called in yet another doctor who then called in a specialist. At this point, I am told, my parents were more than a little worried. The final specialist called told my parents I had cancer. I was diagnosed with neuroblastoma. For those who don’t know what that is it is a tumor on a spinal cord. The tumor was connected but it didn’t penetrate the spinal cord or I would have been dead due to it would have been in the brain. That day was a nightmare for my parents, as so I am told. It was lucky that they caught the tumor in the ultra sound machine, apparently it was hard to see. Well from this point I started treatment. I had several rounds of chemo and 4 surgeries. I have been in remission for about 17 years now an no signs of relapse. To this day the doctors still don’t know if I was born with the cancer or if it was just a rapid forming tumor. On top of the scare of havening this cancer, I was adopted. I have no idea who my biological parents are or even if cancer runs in my family history. I am glad, though I was adopted by my loving parents. It’s a scary thought that what if I was adopted by a different family who couldn’t afford all the medical bills that I know must have racked up. Now years later I believe it was a blessing in disguise about being oblivious, not the cancer part but my parents part.
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