As part of the UCSF
community, we are privileged to know people that have experienced hardships while
having to relocate for treatment. All of our families come from at least 50 miles
away similar to this family. The Argueta family allowed us to share this story
with the Family House community.
My Fight Against Cancer
Ariana Argueta ’12
September 11, 2009, was the day my world was
turned upside-down. Typical teenage girls usually think about boys, grades, and
sports—all normal things that I was focused on, too, prior to my own 9/11. That
was the day I was diagnosed with brain cancer, and, from then until now, cancer
has been on my mind most of the time.
When I first heard the word “cancer” two years
ago, I knew the stereotypes associated with people who have it, but I didn’t
really understand what was going to happen to me. I told myself that I might
just have surgery, miss a few weeks of school, and then get back to life as
usual. At the same time, I immediately started worrying about losing all my
hair. Though I knew it would grow back, I also knew I would have to look like a
different person for some time. The doctor said I would have a little scar. It
wasn’t long before the reality of what I was facing became clear.
My surgery took seventeen hours to completely
remove the tumor. I later found out my parents had been told I might not walk,
talk, or eat on my own again afterward. My treatment was just getting started.
In the year after my surgery, I experienced
monthly chemotherapy and radiation as an inpatient at UCSF Hospital. During the
first six weeks of my treatment, my parents and I had to live in San Francisco.
We had to leave my younger sister and Grandma behind. We had to leave our
normal lives behind. Due to the radiation therapy, I did lose a significant
amount of my hair. The little scar the doctor said I would have did not turn
out to be quite so little. My self-esteem took a big hit. On top of that, I was
underweight; I had a significant weight loss of 27 pounds, and there was no
easy way of gaining it back when I had no appetite at all. I felt that I had
lost my identity, and I realized this was still just the beginning of a long
battle.
Once I came to terms with losing my hair and
the other changes in my appearance, I began to worry about all the homework
assignments and confirmation classes I would be missing. I wondered whether or
not I would ever catch up. School has always been a top priority for me. Thus,
falling behind in classes and not being able to graduate with my class was one
of my biggest concerns. Although I knew I had the support of my teachers,
missing so much class affected my confidence in my ability to do well in
school. And the surgery and the cancer treatments did make learning harder for
me than it was before—particularly memorization. But I came to school when I
could and kept going.
I was asked recently which was worse— getting
diagnosed with cancer or going through the treatment—and I have to say that the
fear and the uncertainty around getting diagnosed might have been the worst of
it. But I never asked, “Why me?” I didn’t dwell on that. Once the treatment
started, I just took each day as it came.
Besides the sickness itself and the different
treatments (which also made me sick), what was hard for me was the realization
that my relationships were changing. Old friendships disappeared. People I had
been close to moved on. I started to feel that people feared me. New
friendships that I made in the hospital turned out to be very short-lived. A
baby boy I knew died after six months. My family and I were always committed to
the Catholic Church, but these experiences made my faith more and more
important to me. And that brings me to a bright spot in my story.
In March 2010, I was interviewed by the
Make-A-Wish Foundation. They asked me what my greatest wish was. I am not sure
how I would have answered that before I had cancer, but material things
interested me a lot less than they used to, so I told them that, if I could go
anywhere in the world and meet anyone, I would like to meet the Pope, who is so
special to my religion. Somehow, the Make-A-Wish Foundation made it happen, and
on October 20, 2010, my family and I went to Rome, and I had an audience with
the Pope. When I was asked about my impressions of the event, I remembered that
I really couldn’t understand much of what the Holy Father said to me. His
German accent was very strong, there was classical music playing loudly in the
background, and people in the crowd were shouting, “Papa! Papa!” But it didn’t
matter that I couldn’t quite make out what he said. The Pope’s gaze was very
powerful. There was something about his eyes. And when he took my hand, I noticed
his very large gold ring set with a red stone. I had the feeling that this was
the closest I could get on Earth to meeting God. It was truly magical. The
Pope’s blessing left me feeling empowered and really has helped me cope with my
difficulties.
This is a very small snapshot of my life in the
last two years. During my fight against cancer, I have realized that my faith
and family are the most important things to me. Through the difficulties, I
have learned a lot about myself. My faith in God has grown immensely. I have
learned to put worries like regaining my weight, growing my hair, and graduating
with my class in His hands. I have also learned to truly value my family,
because they have demonstrated unconditional love
and support for me. Cancer may have changed me forever, but it does not define
me. The way I choose to live does. I have learned not to worry about the small
things in life and literally to live one day at a time, because we can’t control
yesterday or tomorrow. Today is the only reality we can live in. We have to make
it count.
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| Ariana Loren Argueta, our "Ari", was given to us by God on February 3, 1994. On September 11, 2009 Ariana was diagnosed with pediatric brain cancer and returned home to our Holy Father on November 17, 2012. |
