Learning to Heal
By: Katie Kemp


This can’t be happening. Not to me. Not now. School just started and I can’t add this on to all of my stress already. I never thought this would happen to my family, to my grandma. I’ve seen my friend become a shell of herself, but I never imagined that I would ever understand how much it affected her. I never wanted to find out. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and never come out of the darkness that ate my room. I wanted to hide and just deny it all. I didn’t want to think about what comes next. I didn’t want to deal with the world. I didn’t want to think about the cancer taking my grandma from me.


I finally went back to school after a few days of disappearing. My friends didn’t notice the redness in my eyes or the frown behind my smile. “Hi Katie! How was your weekend?”

“Great!” But it wasn’t. It was filled with heartache and pain. Darkness and fear. No one noticed the pain in my heart or the weakness in my knees.

“We can’t wait to get out of here for this weekend.”

“Neither can I.” But they didn’t know what I wanted to get out of. I wanted to get out of my house. Where the memories of my grandma rush through my head. Her smiling face and hazel eyes. Her quiet voice when she said something funny. No one will ever know. I won’t let the pain show through my walls. I am strong. I am hopeful. I can not lie to myself...I am weak. I am nothing.


These doctors got me into the hospital so fast. It seems like Halloween was just yesterday when I was diagnosed. I’m under anesthesia and it’s like a rest I’ve needed for a million years. I’m so peaceful, but there’s so much going on around me. Organized chaos. They can’t tell but I’m watching them. Every move they make, every cut, every close call. I’m watching. My eyes are closed but I can see them. There may be machines and an IV in my arm and oxygen pumping through me, but I can hear them. All the whispers they try to mask. All the mistakes that are fixed. I can still hear. I can still see. It’s like my spirit is above them and my body remains lifeless on the table. They’re all being secretly evaluated. They just don’t know it. I’m still and quiet. There’s nothing for me to be concerned about. Nothing for me to do. Just to lay there and let them do their job. They’re here to take the death away. They’re here to potentially save my life.


They caught me.

“Katie what’s wrong?” I can hear the echo come from behind me. “You failed a math test. I’m worried about you. That’s your best subject.” I didn’t look up from the sinks, but she didn’t leave. She just stood there like I was some kind of alien on all fours. I’m just a person. What do you expect from me. I’m trapped. I’m hurting. I try to speak but the words burn up before they can reach her ears. I put more water on my face before I look up into the mirror and see her reflection staring into the glass. The water cools my eyes before the tears start again and the burning sensation starts again. Nothing can stop the pain. I pushed past her as she tried to block my beeline to the door. I don’t know why but I just couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t let my best friend see me weak.


“Her heart rates dropping. We need to get it back up fast! This isn’t good.”
I couldn’t move. My eyes shifted back and forth, faster and faster. My brain told my arms to flail but they wouldn’t listen. I was stiff and paralyzed like a wooden board. This was the end. This was it.

“Okay. Her heart rates back up. She’s stable again.”

My eyes slowed down. My brain calmed and the doctors were back to work. No more of these close calls. My heart’s bad enough as is. It can’t take another panic like that.


She was finally out. Everything was over but even a week after I still wanted to keep myself reserved. I wanted to hide from everyone. I wanted to escape, to deny, to push all the facts away. I should’ve felt better. I needed to feel better. This whole experience took a toll on me, my grades, my relationships with everyone I know. It’s like the cancer crawled into my life and started slowly eating away at it. I had to take control. The inner fear needed to be tamed. No more running. No more hiding. I was done with the hurt. It was my turn to have surgery, and take away the cancer for good. I quit running. I quit denying. I quit pushing the facts away. I took control and as my grandma recovered, so do I. I got my life back and my grandma was my inspiration. If she could go through surgery and still have faith, then so could I. It was my turn to be strong. My turn to her her inspiration for once.


Finally I was out. I could feel the oxygen running through me. I could feel the blood pumping through my veins. No more IV. No more oxygen machine. It was all me, but not all of me was there. Something was missing. My hands? Nope they’re there. My feet? Nope I’m standing. I looked down to check my legs, then my stomach, then there it was. I felt lighter and smaller. That flat empty space between my stomach and neck. It was gone. The cancer was gone, but it didn’t leave without taking a hostage. A hostage that could never be replaced. I would never look the same again. I would never act the same. I would never feel the same, ever again. I wouldn’t eat as much as I use to. I didn’t eat red meat anymore. I only drank water. I lost weight by the pounds and I knew I would never look the same again. I could never go back to being the same person I was. No matter how hard I tried nothing would go back to the exact same. But the cancer was gone, and I had my family back. That was all that mattered.


From the time she was diagnosed to the time she was released from the hospital, I worried. Everyday and every night I prayed, and every time I prayed I worried more. That’s what happens when you have a family member hurt. No matter what it is, no matter how they’re hurt, you feel the pain too. You grieve. It’s the process and we all go through it at some point. When you’re faced with danger, your instinct is to run. You try to deny what is happening to you. You try to hide from the danger. All you want is for it to go away. That’s when you have to say no and be the ruler of your own life. You can’t let the fear take over. You have to be in control. The fear won’t take over your life. The fear won’t take over my life anymore. You have to accept. I have accepted. You will feel better, you will move on. I have moved on. NO more running. NO more hiding. NO more denying. Accept it and let your life move forward.