My hero

Thousands of questions roamed my mind in the morning. What could possibly make my mother so worried? Why wasn’t my dad saying anything? What would I do for my missing homework? Why was my younger brother sticking a spoon up his nose? At breakfast, I decided to bite my tongue, as I knew telling my parents about the missing homework would most likely get me into trouble. This turned out to be more difficult than I had anticipated, as I have always been anxious by nature. “Pass the syrup.” There was a long pause. “Pass the syrup,” my father repeated. “Oh” I said picking up the syrup and handing it over. I knew I had been daydreaming. The rest of breakfast, which I knew considering the circumstances would be difficult, then took a turn for the worst. My father’s complete tone changed dramatically from the small talk to what was about to be one of the most worrying discussions I have ever experienced.

My father cleared his throat. I knew there was something on his mind. “Your uncle found a lump in his throat.” “Now don’t get ahead of yourself, let’s not make any wrongful assumptions.” I felt my heart started to race. What could that mean? I then turned to my mom, who was silent. “He should be alright, but he is going to have to get that lump checked out.” “For now, we should all just be as helpful and considerate as possible.” Of course, my first reaction was concern. I didn’t know what was going to happen in the future. It was also very difficult to not understand exactly what was happening. It felt as if I was losing control of everything in my life; my whole world was crumbling.

The worst part was that this uncle, had been my favorite person. He took care of me when my parents were not home, he put me in bed, I loved him.

The next few days were chaos for my family. My mother and father were anxious about my uncle hoping that the tests would turn out okay. Then, we received the overwhelming news that stage four throat cancer was about to change my uncle’s life.

To try and overcome his illness, the treatments began. My uncle’s throat was burned by the radiation and the chemotherapy left him almost lifeless and very fatigued. He wasn’t able to speak at all and his voice turned into a soft, muttering, unrecognizable whisper when he tried to communicate. He also had to quit his job as a rheumatologist. He was 20 years old and was about to realize how fragile life can be at a time when he wanted to enjoy all that he had worked so hard for in life.

My aunt demonstrated to us all that when you come across a barrier you should fight it. You should stand up to it and make sacrifices to reach a goal. Don’t wait until it’s too late and most definitely do not expect people to do things for you. I never knew that my aunt could teach me so much that I can still use today throughout my life. That is the true definition of a hero.

A few months passed and my uncle kept pushing forward but required more and more support to get through a day. My aunt, also known as “the nuclear reactor” or “super woman” was armed and ready. She knew that taking things day by day would make a world of difference in my uncle’s recovery. She quit her bowling team and stopped meeting friends for meals when my uncle could not go. These were sacrifices she knew she would just have to make.

Several weeks later, with all treatments completed, my uncle and aunt came over to spend a few days with me while my parents were out of town. He was able to talk even better and seemed a little less fatigued. This small bit of improvement really proved to me how very strong my uncle was. When we got back to my house, after running errands that afternoon, to greet them my aunt was at the car taking suitcases into the house. She greeted us with a smile from ear to ear. I knew she was in high spirits to see us. Inside, my uncle was sitting on a chair at our kitchen table. He wanted to take in a small suitcase that my aunt had forgotten in the car, but my aunt wouldn’t allow it. “It’s too heavy for you, “ she said. That’s something I always admired about my aunt: she is always looking out for someone else. The next few hours flew by as my aunt brought in suitcases and got things settled around the house. My aunt, who loves having everything neat and organized, began to clean our kitchen. The conversation was mostly small talk, but it was great to catch up with them, since they live so far away.

“So, how is school?” she asked while putting on her signature yellow rubber gloves. “It’s great,” I replied with enthusiasm. “Good!” She seemed to be excited that we were all doing well. She then proceeded to ask about my older brother, a college student. “Oh, he’s doing well just swamped with a ton of work.” “Yep, college will do that to you” she responded. “What can I get you for lunch?” she asked my uncle. No answer. “Is there anything I can get you?” she asked again. “No, thank you.”

A few hours later, my dad came home from a long and strenuous day at work. He was exhausted but still sat down to eat with us. We had Indian food. Unfortunately, my uncle could not enjoy most of what we had bought because it either had too much spice, which would irritate his throat, or he would simply be unable to swallow it. At the dinner table, there wasn’t a lot of conversation.

My aunt woke me up early the next day. We had plans to go to Montgomery Mall; my aunt was looking for a pair of shoes. After we had shopped, my aunt, being the organizational wiz that she is, took me along for the ride to Goodwill, to donate our old clothes. My aunt drove me home after Goodwill, extremely tired. She put on her slippers and sat down to read a good book.

There are so many things that you learn by experience. Until you go through something, you could never comprehend exactly what someone is going through. Perhaps that is the most complicated part of having a family member who has cancer. You can’t understand what they are dealing with. No matter how hard you try. My aunt took what life gave her and chose to make the best of her situation, take things day by day, and give all she possibly could to help heal my uncle. She chose to be compassionate, caring, and as understanding as she possibly could be. She put her needs second to my uncle’s because she knew it was the right thing to do. A hero becomes a hero by the choices they make. My aunt chose to be a hero.