Christine's Story

Christine's Story about Surviving Childhood Cancer
© 2016 Christine Mulvihill

My name is Christine  and I am a 15-year-old childhood cancer survivor. I thought that after I was discharged from the hospital everything would be normal or even sort of normal, but that’s not how this story goes. You see, somewhere through all this my soul has been scared and a curse cast upon myself, a curse I will take to my grave.

My story begins at the age of three in the Children’s Hospital of Eastern Ontario (CHEO)

I saw the tears in my mother’s eyes and the concern on my father’s face. I had no idea why or what was happening. “What’s going on momma?” I asked her. She didn’t reply, she just held my hand and started to cry.

Less than 40% chance is not what anyone would have hoped for. But you can’t change the odds; you can only fight against them.

When we found out that I had ALL, (acute lymphoblastic leukemia) my family members tried to explain to me what was going to happen, but I know now that nothing in the entire world could prepared me for what was about to happen.

Before I knew it, I was hooked up to an IV and all my long blonde gorgeous hair was gone, once perfectly placed on my two-year-old head, now on my pillow.

Aside from my parents and family who were by my side the entire 3 years never giving up hope, my aunt Jamie was always there when I felt down. We would always have fun playing games and she would always paint my nails just to make me feel special. My grandmother, a retired nurse herself, was also another very special person; she always knew that I would overcome my illness. Every day she would take me to the chapel in the church and I would stare at the enormously realistic wood carved statue of Jesus. I would ask “even though you look like you are in more pain than me, can you ask your father to help me.”

Then my grandmother and I would go back to the room and say this prayer together;

      And now I lay me down to sleep and I pray you lord my soul to keep, but if I shall die before I wake, I pray you Lord my soul to take.

In the hospital I met an Angel, and her name was Sarah. She was in the room next to me and she had leukemia too. She was a very sweet girl and we had fun together, she helped me not to feel as different. We shared a lot of things like pizza parties, we played in the art room and we gave each other the drugs that were impossible to take. It seemed much easier to swallow when she gave them to me, compared to 5 nurses holding me down while they poured it down my throat. Out of all my friends on the fourth floor she was the best. She was an amazing friend even if she was only 3.

But eventually all angels must go back to heaven. And about a year later my angel Sarah went back to heaven. She died in her sleep, because the doctors failed to find a match for her bone marrow transplant.

It made me sad just to look at the empty bed on that fourth floor in room 420. Although it was 10 years ago that she died, I will always remember her because she will forever be in my heart.

Sitting in my hospital bed with the sounds of people crying and other children screaming out in pain and agony echoing through my head. But through the pain and suffering there was always someone there to keep me company. I never lost hope and I promised never to give up even after I relapsed and had to start all over again, adding radiation on top of the chemotherapy.

And I promised myself to keep on fighting until I was just like everyone else again, until I could wake up in my own bed and run free without that stupid IV. No matter how painful a struggle no matter how long, I would have fought to eternity to be healthy again but with all these bombs dropping on me sometimes I’m not sure I have the strength.

I was just a young child when I was first diagnosed with leukemia, a young girl whose fate would have brought her to the grave, but look at me now. I am standing here in front of you and although I may be far different from all of you on the outside, I am still a person on the inside. My physical scars in time will heal, but my emotional scars will remain forever.


       Who Am I       Faith, Hope, Triumph and Tragedy        Oncology       This Curse

       High School       Life is One Tough Pill to Swallow       Emotions       Other Stories and Poems


Artwork title; The Hilda Pearce Project Hope Foundation, CHEO COLLECTION, April 25, 1999


TAGS: acute lymphoblastic leukemia, Children’s Hospital of Eastern Ontario, CHEO, fighting God, Jesus, help, angel, heaven, eternity, healthy, strength, fate, confidence, emotion hospital, oncology, high school, inspiration faith, trust, conviction, spirituality, passion, love

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