Living Proof Maddie Angel My brother was only eight years old. Eight years old. Eight year olds should be running and playing. His parents should be working and playing with him. His sister should be watching his soccer games and living life with him. But this wasn t the case for Drew, my parents, or me. Instead of running around, Drew was sitting in a hospital bed. Instead of playing, he was going through chemotherapy. Instead of working, my parents were at the hospital every month. Instead of playing with him, they were trying to live life with a sick kid, trying to pay doctor bills, and trying to care for their three other kids. Instead of watching his soccer games, I was watching my brother receive shots every day and endure treatments every few weeks. Instead of living life with him, I was forced to live life from the outside, because no parent can worry about a two year old girl when their eight year old boy is very, very sick. Nearly twelve years ago, my family s life began to crumble. We had been celebrating all month, because it was Drew s birthday. It was amazing. All was calm, and there wasn t a worry in sight. Less than a few weeks after Drew s eighth birthday had passed, sickness arose in his stomach. It was nothing major of course, nothing to concern about. That s what we all claimed. That s what we all thought. When my parents noticed his recovery was prolonged, we sought assistance. It was discovered that he had Appendicitis, which was treatable, for an unknown reason. Surgery to remove his appendix was necessary. It wasn t what we expected, but it wasn t
unheard of, and nothing uncommon. That s what we all assumed. That s what we all said. The surgery was scary for a little boy, but that s all it was. It was supposed to be just surgery, and it was supposed to be just scary. But this time it exceeded past just surgery and exceeded past just scary. No one but God knew what was going to happen that month. That s what made it brutal. That s what made it terrible. That s what made it unbearable. The just scary surgery was past us now. All was fine in the Angel home. That s what we hoped. That s what we reassured, but it wasn t fine. It wasn t close to fine. It was about as far from fine as anyone could fathom. We received a strange call from the doctor. We finally learned the news that Drew wasn t fine. They wanted to study his body more, because his blood cells aroused concern. My mother was terrified of what this could mean. She did not want to inform myself, my brother and sister, and least of all Drew that Drew wasn t fine. The specialized doctors were concerned about cancer. That s the key word. Everyone knows that cancer doesn t mess around. Lymphoma was what we were keeping our eye on. Lymphoma is a cancer in your blood that can kill you, and it can kill you fast. We hurried to the hospital and endured a miserable car ride that made our blood as cold as ice. When we arrived, we heard the most devastating news that a family could hear. Yes, Drew had cancer. My dad witnessed the results that showed many tumors all over this little boy s body. This cancer was dangerous. And Drew s cancer was no exception. My parents couldn t take it. After all, how can you sleep at night just wondering if your kid would die the next day? That s what my parents were thinking and they tried desperately for Drew not to think that too. They waited as long as they could, but my parents finally had the unwanted job of telling their eight year old son he might die. Burkitt s Lymphoma is sneaky, scary and scarring. The cancer grows considerably in a small amount of time. We needed to act promptly. That meant that
immediately, my life was put on hold. My mother tried not to cry, because she didn t want to worry Drew. One can only imagine how dreadfully scary it was to see everyone worry so much about you. Drew didn t need to imagine though, because he was living in a nightmare. He started chemotherapy. The hospital was over an hour away, so every few weeks my family packed their bags to camp at the hospital. Chemo was anything but gentle. It could trigger issues. It was risky. He could have memory loss when he s older, or he could be physically disabled in the future. He would have to stay at the hospital for weeks at a time. For the first month, he almost never left the hospital doors. He lost his hair and with it, he lost his pride. Treatment would make him sick, and kill everything inside him. When he was finally able to come home after his strenuous treatment, he barely had an immune system. This makes for a little kid to be locked up inside the house constantly, because if sickness ever overtook him, he would be in peril. In the middle of this struggle, all we were thinking was he was too young to die. He was eight years old and we thought he was too young to die, but God thought so too. I turned two years old while my brother developed cancer. Out of my family, I had the least to worry about. But that doesn t mean I had nothing to worry about. Eight years old or eighty years old, I was his sister. We had the same blood. It was by chance that this little sick kid was my brother. I had a connection to him that no one outside of my family had. No matter how old or young you are, family is family. I may not have known what was going on back then, but I know now. Twelve years ago, I had few things to worry about. I didn t know why my parents were always upset. I didn t know why I was never at home. I didn t know why my brother had no hair on his head. I didn t know why I was gifted with toys and candy at the hospital. I didn t know why we attracted so much attention. But I know now. I was the only one of my three siblings who had to stay at my Grandmother s house, and I didn t know why. My oldest brother
who was ten and my sister who was six were able to stay with my parents and with Drew. But for months of my life, I practically lived with my Grandparents. I didn t know why. To this day, I don t know why the only thing I remember about my life before five years old is this. Of all the things someone wishes could they could forget, I remembered this one. Most people don t know what life was like as an infant. I remember all those hospital trips from when I was two years old. Someone could assume that my brother having cancer didn t affect me, but it did. If by chance God performed a miracle to let this little boy live, it would determine my part of my life and part of my future. So when we found out his cancer was gone, everything changed. Drew Angel changed my life and so many others. He quickly recovered from Lymphoma, and was deemed cancer free faster than anyone expected. And those long term effects that chemotherapy has on people, there s not a trace of them. You could live your whole life with him and never know he had cancer. You d never know what he s been through. You d never know what he s overcome. As soon as he could, he began playing soccer again. After finally being able to return to the sport he loved, he worked harder than ever. Everything he s ever had he s worked for. He lived a healthy middle school and high school life. He graduated as one of the top students in his class. And finally, a year ago he left to play college soccer, and he still plays now. My brother has exceeded expectations his whole life. Mine wouldn t be the same if my brother wasn t in it. That makes it so scary to think that he almost wasn t. You would never know what my brother, my family, and what I ve gone through by looking at us. But if you asked, we wouldn t take back Drew s cancer. He is living proof that there s always hope. Sometimes you need to be broken down before you can be built back up. Even if your life begins
to crumble, it will piece together eventually. That s what happened to my family, and maybe it can happen to yours.