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Sara

2/4/2025

My story starts way back when I was about five years old. I used to complain of headaches once a week, my parents took me to many doctors, but they thought it was nothing. One day in November 2022, I went to get an MRI and there it was, a big tumor sitting in my head like it was supposed to be there. Honestly, I wasn't even scared, I was kind of in a state of shock and didn't feel anything. At that time the doctors said it was a cyst. They said it wouldn't grow and they didn't want to operate.

In April 2024, the headaches got worse. I had to leave school early almost every day because of the pain. The comments from my classmates, "Sara is just trying to skip school," did not help. I went for an MRI and... "Nothing," or at least that's what the doctors said. But I knew something was wrong and I was right. My mom contacted one of the best neurosurgeons in the world and guess what he said? Not a cyst, not even close, but a rare cancer, a chordoma, it's growing, it's bad, and I need surgery soon. And there I was, in my class, saying goodbye before going to Barcelona for (too) long. My classmates bought me a big teddy bear, a huge bouquet of flowers and some chocolate, it was really sweet. On June 6th I had my first surgery. They put me in a room that looked like an intensive care unit, it was weird. I cried the whole time. I was all alone. I could not stop crying and I was scared. Then one of the doctors came up to me and I will never forget what she said: "You don't have to be afraid, I'll be with you all the time. I'm going to be like your mom right now, in here. That calmed me down. When I went into the operating room, she asked me who my favorite singer was, and she played my favorite songs until I fell asleep.

I don't remember anything from when I woke up except that I had hundreds of messages on my phone and I only answered my best friend who promised to leave me lots of messages when I woke up and she did. The next few days were boring. Everything hurt and it felt like I was never going to leave the hospital. But finally, after what felt like 100 years, I was discharged, and I could finally get better somewhere where everything was not white and smelled like bandages. But that didn't last long. The doctors had to cut a hole in my skull and cover it with a piece of muscle from my thigh, and the piece fell off, allowing air to get into my brain. And to make a long story short, that is not good. I heard the sound of air coming into my brain and felt sharp pain. It hurt so much that I screamed in pain. My parents took me back to the hospital and I had another surgery. On June 17, I had another operation, this time I didn't cry, but when I woke up, my head hurt a lot, more than the first time. They had to cut some fat out of my stomach and after that I looked like I had had a C-section. I woke up and asked where my parents were and the nurse said, "We'll call them when your pain stops. I have to admit that I kind of lied about not being in pain just to see my parents. I screamed in pain all night, even in my sleep. It was the worst day of my life, I thought it would never end. This time the recovery felt even worse, but I made it. Of course, when I went home, the same piece fell off again, I had another surgery, and when I woke up it was horrible. The nurses didn't help me, I cried without stopping, and the nurses threatened me saying that they would kick my mom out if I didn't stop crying. It hurts just to remember.

In September I had another operation in Barcelona again. It was nothing special, although the scar on my neck is very visible, huge and very annoying. They also shaved part of my head, which was not my favorite part.

In the end I had to spend three months in a small town in Italy for radiation. I felt the worst while I was there, away from my friends, just counting the days until I could go back home. Every day in the morning I would go for proton therapy, basically they would put a huge mask on me that was the shape of my whole head, close it and make me lie there for half an hour while they burned the little bits of tumor that were left. The mask was tight and it hurt a lot. Sometimes I had good days when it didn't hurt so much, but sometimes it was terrible. It felt like I would never go home, but I did, I made it to the end of therapy and finally went home.

This is the end of my journey. I want to thank my parents for being there for me. And my best friends for supporting me every step of the way. They always asked if I was okay, whenever someone talked about me they stood up for me, whenever someone said "you're faking a headache just to skip school" they stood up for me. I don't know how I would get through it without that kind of support. And of course all the friends who have been there for me, thank you.


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