I was a normal 15-year-old teenage boy
in grade 10
with average grades and very sporty.
I loved to play rugby, basketball, athletics,
you name it I played it.
But slowly
things started to go wrong...
Around April
I started to notice awful headaches occurring,
and I mean excruciatingly painful,
I couldn't even look down
without the immense pain consuming my thoughts.
At first, I thought they were just migraines,
nothing a little Ibuprofen can't fix, right?
Sadly,
this was not the case!
I would complain to my mum about these headaches daily,
but she refused to believe it was anything serious
as she was a nurse.
"Get off those screens...
spend more time outside"
she would always say,
but I knew something was wrong.
I had a rugby carnival coming up
and I didn't wanna miss out on it
so I didn't mention it anymore.
"I've just had a few too many knocks to the head" I'd tell myself,
"I'm just tired,
maybe I should go to sleep earlier"
but I couldn't sleep,
no matter how hard I tried, the pain was just too bad.
Whimpering in bed crying to my mum
"Please make it stop mum, please!"
I sobbed and sobbed until enough was enough.
My mum decided to make an appointment with the doctor
just to see if there was anything they could do.
I was hopeful now that the doctor could just write me a prescription for some medicine
and the pain would go away
but to my disbelief,
they couldn't.
My mum wouldn't let this go though
and she demanded a CT scan the next day,
so without anything else being done,
the doctor made the appointment.
It felt like I was sat in the waiting room for hours,
my head felt like it was ready to explode,
it was so painful
but I had to hold back the tears so mum wouldn't worry.
Finally, my name was called
and I entered the scanning room,
around 10-15 minutes later it was over,
"Can we go home now?"
impatiently asking mum,
I just wanted to get into bed and sleep,
"No Matthew,
we have to wait to see the doctor and see what he tells us"
So, we waited
and waited and waited
watching the clock tick away until finally,
the doctor calls us in and tells me and my mum to have a seat.
I could already see my mum's face drop
as soon as she saw the computer screen,
holding me tight, "It's okay,
you're going to be alright" she says.
The doctor faces me,
stuttering his words while trying to figure out
how to tell this news to a 15-year-old boy,
"I'm sorry Matthew but you have a brain tumor,
you will need to go to the city hospital for surgery immediately..."
I was so confused,
"How could this happen?
Only old people get tumors,
I'm only 15, this can't be happening"
The shock hit me intensely,
I looked over to my mum
who was now in tears gripping my hand with tissues up to her eyes.
My whole world was turned upside down,
I still had so much I wanted to do,
if I die what will people remember me for?
So many things were racing around my mind at once I couldn't take it,
I burst out crying hugging my mum close.
"I love you so much son
and I always will"
I didn't have the strength to say it back
as much as I wanted to,
my tears and cries filled the hospital's emergency room
where I sat waiting for an ambulance to transfer me to the city hospital.
My surgery was scheduled in a weeks time
and I was so impatient,
all I wanted to do was to be a normal kid again.
The doctors came in and out of my room every day
until Thursday evening
when two nurses wheeled in a bed,
"its time to get ready for surgery"
the doctor said calmly.
I don't remember much,
but I do remember saying goodbye to my mum and dad,
holding their hands tightly before drifting off,
I was finally free from those demon headaches,
at last, I was at peace.
The surgery lasted 8 and a half hours,
I can't even begin to imagine
the stress that would've overcome my parents that night.
When I woke,
any chance I got I would ask, "when are we going home?"
but it wasn't that simple.
Physical therapists, Occupational therapists,
doctors,
it seemed like the whole doctoring staff wanted to see how I was doing
but all I wanted to do was go home.
A few days passed
and to the surprise of the doctors, I was healthy,
stable and seemed like an average kid
so I was able to go home.
At last, I was out of that god awful hospital,
I thought to myself,
but if only I knew what was to come.
A month or so had passed
and my mum got a call from the oncology ward,
I wasn't sure of what oncology was,
so my mum made it clearer for me...
cancer!!
I couldn't believe it,
I sat there to hear my diagnosis,
Glioblastoma 4...
stage 4 brain cancer coming with a 3% survival rate even with treatment.
"I'm sorry,
you have 6 months to live..."
That sentence has stuck with me ever since.
"6 months?!
What can I do in 6 months?
I want to get married and have kids,
travel the world and live life"
I was screaming inside,
but all that was coming out were tears.
I started chemotherapy and radiation therapy,
and a month later,
every day I would vomit,
lose chunks of hair,
scream and cry.
"Why was this happening to me?"
"How is this even possible?
I'm a healthy 15-year-old boy,
this can't be real"
but unfortunately it was,
over 14 months of treatment,
countless appointments,
countless medications
and more stress on my family than anything imaginable.
"The hardest thing about cancer
isn't what it does to you,
but what it does to the people you love."
Deadpool!
A quote that would put my entire diagnosis into perspective.
Every day,
I had been in my room or a hospital bed feeling sorry for myself
not doing anything but cry.
I had to do something,
if I was to die
I was going to die knowing that my family and loved ones
weren't sad I was gone,
but happy that I was no longer in pain.
My mum and I started to go out to different places after my appointments
enjoying life and doing the most with what little time I had left.
It had been 4 months since my diagnosis
and my parents were still as stressed as ever,
every day I would tell them that it’s okay,
every day I would tell them I'm happy,
every day was a new day for me to be grateful for what I had,
grateful for the life I lived,
grateful for my loved ones and their support.
July 16th 2018,
I finished the last of my chemo,
I had done it,
I had beaten the odds
and survived over double
the amount of time my doctor had predicted.
There is no doubt in my mind that the reason I survived
was that not only for the love and support of the loved ones around me
but the positive mindset I kept throughout it all.
Focusing on others well being
and helping struggling friends and family
made me happy,
it made me fulfilled.
Focusing on how grateful I am for my life
and how amazing life is,
is what got me through my journey.
I am now 17 years old
and I have 3 monthly MRI's and check-ups
to make sure I stay on the right path.
No matter what happens in the future,
I know that I am happy.