Shanon Steiger Gaskill was in 8th grade when she learned she had cancer. But that was a long time ago. Today and adult with three kids of her own, and recently became a registered nurse. She wants to share her story to help other kids who are struggling like she did with a serious illness.
When they said I had cancer, I didn't even know what that meant.
When they said I had to go to the hospital, I was curious. Then I saw how upset my parents were and I was afraid. I was 14 years old and in the eighth grade. I wasn't supposed to get cancer.
Before I started feeling sick, I was just like all my friends. We overreacted to everything and had fun doing it. We talked too much about each other, about boys, and about school.
My life was about my family. We lived in a house on the side of a mountain overlooking Salt Lake City, Utah. I lived with my parents, my sister Danna, and my gram. My oldest sister, Zan, lived close by with her husband, Glen, and their 2-year old daughter, Jessica.
For me, life was about playing sports, going to church, and being just like my friends. We ate the same foods (especially pizza) and saw the same movies, usually together. We had to be alike. It wasn't cool to be different. Then I got cancer and it made me different. I quickly found out just how different having Hodgkin's disease would make me. I didn't really care what my cancer was called. I just cared that I was sick and my friends weren't.
They could play ball and dance and laugh and go to school. They didn't have to care that the lymphatic system in their body was messed up and not fighting off infections. They didn't feel like they had the flu and a fever all the time; their body wasn't achy; their glands weren't swollen. My friends weren't tired all the time; they had no pain in their chest; they didn't sweat during the night. They didn't have to have chemo; they weren't going to have radiation; their hair wasn't going to fall out.
Cancer Made Me Feel Alone
During my cancer treatments, I felt like the only kid in the world with cancer. Now I know that about 1,700 kids younger than 20 get lymphoma each year. I know that it's the third most common type of cancer in kids and teens ages 10 to 14. I didn't know there are four stages of cancer and I had stage 3. I didn't know that stage 3 meant I was very, very sick.
It took a month for doctors to figure out what was wrong with me. They thought I had walking pneumonia and gave me three kinds of antibiotics. I had X-rays, CT scans, bone scans, breathing tests, a heart test, and lots of blood tests.
My first time to stay in the hospital was for surgery to remove fluid from around my heart. I cried because I was afraid. The doctor explained that I would be asleep when they put a needle in my chest to suck out the fluid. After the surgery, I cried because I was afraid to be alone. My nurse was very nice. She let my mom sleep in my hospital room in a big chair by my bed.
All those tests didn't tell the doctors enough. They had to do a biopsy to check my lymph nodes. I cried again. The biopsy wasn't bad because I was asleep. Afterwards my neck really hurt.
I wasn't a good patient, either. I was angry, scared, and mean to my whole family. I cried some more. I even cried because they wouldn't let me eat. The IV in my arm fed me sugars, salt, and other stuff. I wanted peaches. When they finally let me go home, we went right to the hospital cafeteria and got some peaches. I only ate a little bit.
My worst fears happened. My sister Danna told my friends that I had cancer. I didn't want anyone to know. Zan told me I was hiding my cancer. I guess I was. I didn't know any other way to deal with it. I worried that my friends wouldn't like me when my hair fell out.
My first treatment was on January 31, 1991. I went to Primary Children's Hospital for all my tests and my chemo. Everyone was so nice to me. They explained everything they were going to do, but I was still really scared. I always had chemo in a small room with a TV and lots of books and games.
My oncology nurse gave me four chemo medicines through an IV in my arm. The four medicines had long names, so they called them "ABVD" because one started with an A, one with B, another with a V, and the last with a D.
At first I didn't feel a thing. I started thinking I might be one of the kids who don't get sick from chemo. Boy, was I wrong! As soon as all four medicines were in, I started feeling strange. I threw up on the way home. The oncology nurse knew what would happen. She gave me a little bowl for the trip home. I threw up tons! I threw up so hard my knees would hit the floor.
Danna would hide in her room with her stereo turned way up to drown out my noise from throwing up. I always felt sick, off and on, for a couple of days, but no more throwing up. (Today, I'm happy to report there are helpful medicines kids can take to control or stop that sick feeling.)
After the first chemo treatment, I decided to have a semi-permanent IV line put in my arm. When it was time for chemo medicine, they could just tap into the line without having to stick me with a needle. But I didn't like that it made me different. People would see it poking out of my arm.