Sometimes I can not help but be cliché. I think to myself, “Why did this happen to my family?” Life was normal; I was happy. And then things changed.

My dad is one of my heroes. He is strong willed, persistent, confident, and courageous. He is the type of person who does not settle. About six years ago he was not happy with his job and quit; he decided he wanted to own a business. And so, within a year, he did. His business was successful. He had no experience owning a business, but he did it. And that was incredible to me.

As I got older I spent more time with my friends. My parents trusted my friends because they knew most of them so well. We did not drink or do drugs. We played games and were involved with sports. I did not think much of being out and about so often, because a lot of people were out more often than me. I had fun. Life was easy and I was carefree. Nothing really mattered. I focused on school, sports, working, and just being with my friends. It was hard to imagine life as anything less than perfect.

There was a growth on my dad’s neck. My dad almost never went to the doctor. His theory was that if he went to the doctor, they would find something. And he was right.

The end of my junior year, my dad was diagnosed with melanoma or skin cancer. At this point, it was still okay. It was not too serious. But he had been misdiagnosed at first. The dermatologist told him the growth on his neck was a blood vessel. So it was not until months after its appearance that it was diagnosed as cancer. My dad started to eat healthier, even though he was already the healthiest person I knew. And that is how life was for about nine more months. It was fairly normal. And I started to spend more time with my family. Or at least I tried.

A few weeks prior to Christmas my dad was getting testing done to see if he was getting better. We were going to get a new puppy if we got good news. A week after the testing my dad came home with a puppy named Sam. I was ecstatic; I ran to my boyfriend and told him the good news. We had a new dog, and that meant that everything was alright. Sam was the best gift I ever got. But then Christmas morning my mom woke me up and told me something I did not expect to hear. “Kameko, Dad’s testing did not go well. He’s going to have to go back in for more testing. He may be doing experimental treatment.” Tears streaked my cheeks as I listened to the worst words I had ever encountered. He was healthy. This was not supposed to be happening. But like Forest Gump said, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to get.”

Weeks passed and then it started. He went out to the National Institute of Health (NIH) in Maryland to see doctors he could trust. He did not trust the doctors in Wisconsin. We found out they had been misleading; they told him to get a surgery that would have hindered his chance of survival. His new doctors told him his best bet would be an experimental treatment that included Interleukin 2 and then T-cell research.

Only a few weeks later my dad went for his first treatment. The interleukin 2 is injected through IV’s and made him nauseous, among other things. But the first round did not go well. He had to come home early.
My dad is one of the most athletic people I know. He is 56 years old and still works out daily and plays racquetball competitively. Interleukin 2 made him stay in bed. He could not walk through the week long period of injection. My dad could no longer do the things he loved most.

Now he is at NIH receiving his second phase of the treatment. It is going better, but I hate it. I hate that the only way to make him better is to make him sick. I hate the look of pain I’ve seen in his face while he’s still recovering from the treatment. I am so scared. I feel helpless, and it’s unbearable. There are moments that I want to give up on everything and just cry.

This experience has made me realize so many things. It has made me recognize things that I already knew, things that most people discern in their subconscious but do not see. I now see the importance of relationships and spending time with people who I love. I recognize the importance of persistence, confidence, a strong will, and courage. And that is why I know my dad will survive and beat the cancer; because he is everything that he needs to be, and more.