My Pride Out the Window
Okay…. so I’m new at this… all of this. This is kind of long, I realize, so sorry to whoever takes the time to read it. This is my first time using any kind of thing like this, and it’s also my first time admitting these weaknesses, so bear with me.
I’m Adrian, I’m 17, and I was diagnosed with AML about 2 months ago. My parents are divorced, and my dad is really rich. He supports me and my mom financially, but he’s not really in either of our lives anymore. This seems irrelevant but it helps the rest make sense.
So here’s the story. When I was 16 (before I got cancer) I moved out of my mom’s house, and into my own apartment, paid in full by my dad. I homeschooled myself, I did everything for myself. I used my free time to do whatever I wanted… and I admit that I did some bad things… but I was living the good life.
I live in a town where everyone knows me. Even when I didn’t go to public high school, everyone knew me and hung out with me. I was popular. I was the one with all the money, the one who showed up to and threw the best parties. And the girls weren’t exactly shy around me either.
And then cancer hit me.
It started with getting really tired, then nose bleeds and a fever. My mom took me to a doctor, and after various tests, blood counts, and a bone marrow aspiration… etc. I was told I had AML.
The news pretty much destroyed my mom. It didn’t bother me as much as it should have. I figured I’d just adapt.
And the strange thing is… the one thing that did bother me, was that I had to move back in with my mom basically because I wasn’t able to take care of myself anymore.
About three weeks after my diagnosis was my 17th birthday. It passed without event, since I was too tired and too sick from my first few chemo treatments to really do anything.
I went from being the most popular person my age, to being helpless, sick, and not to mention, bald. I went from being independent to needing my mom to take care of me when I’m sick. Throw all my pride out the window. No one saw me as popular or cool anymore. They saw me as the guy with cancer.
My whole life I’ve been the kind of guy who isn’t bothered by anything. I’ve always been tough, and I never showed any weakness. I’m always impassive. I feel like now that I have cancer, I am weak. And I hate it.
I admit that there are people who have been great at making me feel better. I have a caring mother and my amazing girlfriend, Sara, and they’re so supportive. But niether of them quite… get it. They tell me all the time how I shouldn’t feel bad for needing help, but I can’t shake the feeling still. At the moment, I just feel like I’m about five years old. I hate it.
Anyway… sorry for practically writing a novel. I’m not necessarily looking for advice or anything. But I feel like I need to know that I’m not crazy for feeling this way. Do I have any right to even have any pride anymore, now that I’m sick?