A Miracle in My Life
by Nicholas Meyer

     During the past eight months of my life, unknowingly to most, my entire world has been turned upside down. Very few people have known of my situation, as my family has gone through a difficult time. I feel that through this writing, now is a perfect time to come out and share my experiences with others in something that has been a very private topic. I have wanted to tell many people but I have felt that they would not understand the situation I have been faced with. This story may not be as amusing or entertaining as others, but it is something to hold very close to my heart, in that it involves my family.
     My story begins in March of last year, when my Dad was feeling very weak and decided that it was time to go to his doctor. His doctor said that he should go right to the hospital because he was not in good shape. After various tests, the doctors concluded that he had lost blood and he was given a blood transfusion of four pints. After this, his weakness was subsiding and he began to feel better in the days after he came home from the hospital. This story does not end there as it had many twists and turns to come.
     Beginning in July of last year and continuing into August, my Dad began to feel weak again and we were all wondering why he felt this way. He was scared to go to his doctor or the hospital because of the fear that something else was wrong. After being pressured and almost forced by my Mom, brother and I, he decided he would go to the hospital on one beautiful August Sunday afternoon. My brother was working at the time and my mom and I went with him. After waiting in the waiting room for almost 2 hours, he was about to leave because he was so mad after waiting so long. After he threatened to leave and we told him to stay, a nurse passed by and inquired about his situation. She said he looked bad and said that the emergency room was very crowded but would him admit soon. After a few minutes, he was taken in and because his primary doctor is in the Bronx, he was referred to a gastroenterologist, Dr. Burrows, who acted as his primary physician. Dr. Burrows felt that there was something worse than just loss of blood, and performed various tests that night. After work, my brother, Charlie and his girlfriend, Diana came to the hospital to be with my Mom and I. At about 10pm, we all left for the night and Dr. Burrows said he would tell us the results of the tests and perform more tests in the next day or two.
     On each day of that week, my family and I and spent much of the day in the hospital, and also other members of my extended family showed up at the hospital, now that my Dad was in a permanent room. On Monday morning, Dr. Burrows performed a liver biopsy and said we would find out the results on Tuesday. On Tuesday, my Mom and I began to drive to the hospital again and she told me that my Dad was diagnosed with colon cancer. She received this news earlier in the day when the doctor called her at work. I was shocked when I heard this but I figured that it was something that could be cured easily, knowing that Darryl Strawberry and other people have been able to recover from this form of cancer.
     When we arrived at the hospital, my Dad told us that Dr. Burrows was coming into the room shortly to tell us more details about the situation. When he came in, he told the three of us that it was a more advanced stage of cancer than originally thought. He spoke in a very serious tone and tried to explain every detail so that we would better understand what we were facing. He said it was the last stage of cancer since it had spread to Dad's lungs and liver. We were all shocked when we heard this and the pain I felt inside was tremendous. I later learned that at some point, Dr. Burrows told my Mom and Dad that he probably only had about 3 months to live and if there was anything they had ever wanted to do, such as a vacation, that they should do it now. If you have ever experienced the word "cancer" and a loved one in the same sentence, you know how it feels and that it brings bad thoughts to mind. After Dr. Burrows left the room, we sat there in shock and could not believe what we were dealing with. I tried to stay strong and support my Dad as his eyes began to water, and I have never seen him so quiet and with such a look of fear on his face. After this, I needed to get out of the room for a minute because I did not want to cry in front of my Dad and as I walked out, tears began to fill my eyes. I realized that I have never felt more pain in my life than that moment and my entire world had come crashing down. My brother showed up at the hospital after a short while and we told him what had happened in the last hour without getting too much into detail because we felt it was not the time nor the place to retell everything the doctor had said. After staying and trying to comfort my Dad, we decided it was time to go and said our good-byes to him.
     When we got home that night, my Mom began to call our family and tell them of the bad news. The first person she called was my Uncle Dan, who is my Dad's brother and probably our closest relative. He asked to speak to my brother and I, as he wanted to try to ease our pain. I remember vividly when he told me to feel bad for myself and to let my emotions out that night, but tomorrow to start thinking and feeling for my Dad. When he said this, I began to realize what was going on and I broke down as tears began running down my face. My brother then got on the phone with my uncle when I could not talk anymore and he asked my uncle what he said to me because my brother thought that my uncle had made me cry. My Mom was there to comfort me and said that everything would be just fine. I think it really hit my hard because my Dad and I have always enjoyed each others company and we always went fishing together and have had lots of fun on our boat in the previous two years. At that time, I thought it had ended and was so sad in thinking that those days would never happen again.
     On Wednesday, we went to the hospital again and spent time with my Dad, as this was a difficult time for all of us. He spoke to some of his brothers and sisters on the phone in his hospital room and as one of his sisters, Joan began to cry hysterically on the other end, he began to cry in his hospital bed. After that telephone call, he was telling me to let the tears flow and there was no way to control our emotions and feelings. He said that there will be times when we all need to cry and that is perfectly fine, that he would cry too, but for us to try not to do it in front of him because he wanted to stay positive. Tears are even running down my face now as I write this because I remember how hard those days were. As my Mom and I began to walk out of his hospital room and into our car that night, I could not control my emotions and I began to hysterically cry as we were walking out. My Mom comforted me and held me in her loving arms, hugging me while trying to wipe the tears from my eyes.
     The next day, Thursday, my Dad was released from the hospital and my Mom and him went to a surgeon to discuss if surgery was the best option. They agreed that it was not and that chemotherapy was the best plan for the time being. The next day, Friday, my Mom, Dad, Charlie, Uncle Dan and I went to the chemotherapy doctors in Poughkeepsie. They said that the best plan was to give my Dad an iron infusion the next Monday, which would cure his fatigue and then to start chemotherapy on Tuesday. His chemotherapy plan would to be to receive it for one day a week for four weeks and then have a two-week break in between. The doctors said that they did not know how his body would respond to the chemotherapy, because for some people it works and for other, it fails to help. For the next two months or so, he was out of work and was pretty much bed-ridden. He began to lose his hair and it was a noticeable sign that the chemotherapy had numerous side effects. My family had to do everything for him, as he was still very weak from the chemotherapy. In those months, many of our family members, even my aunt and uncle from Michigan, visited and tried to offer their support for us.
     As the months have gone on, the doctors have been very impressed with my Dads' progress. Amazingly, he is now back to work and is feeling much better. The doctors have described his situation as "nothing short of a miracle". His CEA count, or cancer cell count, has decreased from 6,000 to 17. When he received this news of the cancer cell count being 17, he invited all of our local family members out to dinner to celebrate how much he had progressed. He is continuing to go to chemo once a week and now is discussing the option of surgery in the near future to remove the primary tumor. The doctors have even mentioned the word remission, which at an earlier date, they said would not be possible and that he would probably be on chemo for the rest of his life.
     As you can see from my writing, a whirlwind of events has transpired in the last eight months that have affected my entire outlook on life. I now realize that life is not to be taken for granted and you never know when your family members may become sick and, in a worse case that mine, pass away. In those months of August and September, pain and bad thoughts filled my days. All I could think about was death and I began to ponder what would happen if my Dad did pass away. I could not imagine the pain associated with that and wondered what I would say if I were to speak at his funeral. Thankfully, I think that we really have witnessed a miracle in that no one thought there was any hope. My Dad is looking forward to many more years of living and enjoying what life has to offer. Please keep him in your prayers, as we never know what God has in store for us.