The Prom-ise Dress

As I walked into the hospital, the chill of the air conditioner caused goose bumps to cover my body. I had lost fifteen pounds in a period of two weeks, and even the ninety-degree weather of August couldn’t warm me. My frail frame and lack of energy was evident to everyone around me, and yet they continued to tell me that everything would be ok; or at least that’s what their words said. Fear and the uncertainty of the future events were written all over their forced smiles. I appreciated their attempt at a positive attitude, but it certainly didn’t make the gut wrenching pain cease.

Today was the day. The day that would either quench the dreams of my childhood, or the day that would propel me to reach even higher heights with what life I had left to live. We walked into the private room and as I waited, I was so uptight that I could feel my blood pumping through my veins. My heartbeat was as percussive and amplified as the sound of a war drum and the look on my parent’s faces started to break what confidence I had left. A knock came upon the door and I clenched my jaw in attempts to brace myself. The doctor walked in with a large yellow envelope, that I knew, held the results of my previous tests. He took out the contents, and displayed them for my parents and I to see. “I’m afraid I have some bad news,” He said with a look of concern, “You have Lymphoma.” The air was sucked out of the room, but for some reason, which was completely unknown to me, I had a strength rise from within. He continued, “As you can see, tumors have filled your lungs and heart.” The room sat silent for a moment, but the faith in my heart continue to increase even though the news only got worse. He went on to tell us that I had three weeks to live. My parents didn’t speak a word to each other, but tears streamed down their pale faces. I could tell they were trying to be strong for me, but I almost felt worse for them, then I did for myself. The doctor scheduled a biopsy for the next Thursday, to see if they could prolong my life, and we left the hospital.

That night as I slept in my bed, I dreamed of the day when I would go shopping for a prom dress, and the day when I would walked down the aisle to the man I love. Would I get to ever see that day? Little did I know, that as I slept, my family was standing around my bed praying for a miracle. I grew up in church, and always believed that there was a God, but never really pursued a relationship with him whole-heartedly. My parents had enough faith and belief for the both of us though. My dad pastors a church and had seen multiple people healed from deadly diseases, but now that it was a reality for me, it was a whole different story.

The rest of the week, my family spent a lot of time with me. I could tell that they were trying to make the most of the situation. My family asked what I wanted to do and tried to complete my every wish. They wanted me to enjoy every day to the fullest.

The day arrived that I was to have my biopsy and I was a little nervous. I had never even been sick for more than two or three days before all of this. I wasn’t used to having health issues, and I certainly wasn’t used to being pricked by needles or spending long hours at a hospital. I couldn’t tell if it was just the nerves or my memory, but somehow I had forgotten that I was even in pain from the lymphoma. Or maybe the pain had just subsided for a little while. Regardless, it was time to lie down on the operating table and allow the doctor to do his job. I kissed my parents and they walked out of the room. The nurses asked me to put the mask for anesthesia over my mouth and to count to ten. “1-2-3…” The pauses between each number became longer and longer until I couldn’t keep my heavy eyelids from shutting.

My parents paced the waiting room for hours upon hours. Everyone was there. My parents, brothers, grandparents, and aunt anxiously pondered what was to come. All of sudden the operating doors flew open. The surgeon was running towards my parents, and barely stopped in time to not run into them. He was out of breath, but a mysterious smile covered his face. “It’s not there… It’s not there!” He said, “It’s a miracle. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He continued to tell my parents that it looked as if a surgeon had removed each tumor with a laser. There were scars where each tumor used to be, proving that they had not misdiagnosed me. I was totally and completely healed.

This experience changed me for the better; I'll never been the same again. It taught me to live each day as if it were my last; life is a valuable gift that should not be taken for granted. Since then, out of a grateful heart, I have pursued my God-given destiny and have been motivated to always reach for excellence. I've been blessed and able to fullfill my childhood dreams of going to prom and walking down the aisle, to the love of my life. I never want to miss an opportunity to leave a legacy, to show God's love and to inspire the people around me. We must remember to appreciate and enjoy our families and friends. Never pass down a chance to say "I love you" and "I'm thankful for you". This trial came with many obstacles, but more importantly it taught me life lessons that have propelled me forward and prooved that "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" (Phil 4:13).