Preface

The beast lived in my colon. For a short while, it was content there. It didnt roar,
grumble, or moan. As a minute ball of cells, it comfortably parked itself on the colons lining.
One day, though, it got brave. It grew and became more bulbous. As it grew, it became more
powerful, and infested the lining of the colon. To assert its power over me, the beast roared,
grumbled, and moaned. It needed to see what else was out there: outside the wall and to other
parts of the body. To begin its journey it clung to the walls of my organ and began to break down
the lining.
Physically, the beast was winning, but it was also conquering my emotions. It knew it was
winning the war over my health. To really make sure it had beaten me, the beast grabbed ahold of
my dreams and my character. With both hands it hung tight. It made me change. Sometimes, the
beast made me mad. It made my relationships with people change, and it caused the relationships
between my loved ones change.
I had to become stronger than the beasts hold. The beast made me plunge injections into
my abdomen. The beast made me get a port because, otherwise, it would be difficult to find a
vein to receive chemotherapy every other week. The beast made me have an artificial opening to
surgically redirect my bodily fluids.
On March 2, 2015 I was diagnosed with cancer, the beast. Today, the beast is gone. I am
one of the lucky ones. For many, the beast wins. Physically and emotionally, it slowly decays a
persons hope. This story is for those who helped me to conquer the beast. And, its a reminder
for me: Im stronger than I think.
 Chapter One
Please, can you pray for me? I sobbed uncontrollably into the phone. I was driving,
which I knew was not safe: I had teary, blurred vision while crossing a bridge over Belleville
Lake.
I called Stasia because she was an adamant church goer. Ten years ago,we met at
Michigan Catholic University. We got into the typical college shenanigans, which included
partying and drinking, all while trying to pass classes and find time for homework. In retrospect,
we may have not been your most typical college students. If we skipped class, it was because
we went to a museum. We were both responsible young adults who did their homework, but we
may have kissed a Catholic college boy or two. On Friday night, she and I would drive our
friend, Antonio, who was the handsome Brazilian exchange student, to the local party store to
buy our weekend spirits. Although we made sure to make the most of our weekends, Stasia
always made it to church on Sunday. Sometimes, I even went. Years later, I was lucky enough to
be her maid of honor.
Im sick, my eyes, unexpectedly welled with tears. I wouldnt have called her while I
was driving if I knew I would sob.
What? she cried out. I dont understand.
The words were stuck in my throat: Im sick.

Stasia waited anxiously to hear what I was trying to explain. I had a colonoscopy. The
results dont look good. Please pray for me, My voice wavered. It was the first time I had said
those words aloud. I hope she heard me this time because I cant say this again.

Of course Ill pray for you, she said in a calm voice. More calm than I expected.
The next set of words that exited my mouth surprised me, Can you tell your family, too?
I know that they often pray. I think God likes them more than me. So, maybe if they pray, God
will give me a chance to be healthy again. I thought God hated me.
Is anyone with you? I can come to Belleville if you need me.
Im ok, the tears began to clear from my eyes, which made driving home much safer
for me and the rest of the people on the road.
 Is Mike with you? Stasia had met my boyfriend, Mike, months earlier. She and her
husband, Scott, approved of him.
Yes, Mike is coming over soon, I replied. This was a lie though. I was just leaving
Mikes apartment. He had made me dinner, and, then, we watched our Netflix shows. It was a
normal night. I needed to feel normal--like everything was going to be alright. I didnt want
Stasia to think I was alone, though, because she would have instantly found a babysitter for her
one-year old child, and would have driven an hour to see me. I didnt want to bother her.
As long as someone is with you...tell me when you get the results of your colonoscopy.
And, get home safely!
Thank you. Love you. I usually didnt say love you to my friends on the phone, but I
needed to tell her then.
I thought about calling my parents or calling Mike. Mike lived only down the street from
my apartment, and I knew he truly loved me. But, I didnt want to bother anyone. I didnt want to
make anyone sad. At that moment, I just needed prayers. Possibly, I needed God, if he existed.

Chapter Two
When I got the results of my colonoscopy, oddly, I didnt crumble apart or cry. Instead, I
thought about death. How long it would take to die? What should I do with my time? About a
month ago, I turned 29-years-old. I had a good run. My job as a high school English teacher was
by no means perfect, but I had achieved a lot in my life: caring boyfriend, successful college
experience that led to a job in my field, and a supportive family. This could be the end.
The biopsy results were in. We waited: mom,dad, Mike, and I. They sat in chairs, but I sat
perched on the exam table. Though I was only two feet higher off the ground than them, the
height felt dizzying. The room was blazing white with fluorescent lights. Outside, there was not a
cloud in the sky. Diagrams of colons and digestive tracts were taped haphazardly to the walls.
Cant there be an uplifting photo of puppies or butterflies? Like at the dentist office?
Sandi, you have colorectal cancer, reluctantly said Dr. Azrak.
 Just days ago, Dr. Azrak had given me a colonoscopy. At fifty-years-old is when someone
usually has their first colonoscopy. My dad, who drove two hours from Kalamazoo to Belleville,
was there for me as I prepped for the procedure. It was slightly embarrassing for dad to hear the
rumblings that took place in my tiny apartments bathroom. But, I was grateful that it was him
who was there when I groggily woke up from the sedation after my colonoscopy. Mike was in
the waiting room. Dr. Azrak waited for the sedation to completely wear off before he talked to
dad and me.
In the recovery room, I slowly opened my eyes to find my dad standing in the doorway.
His hands were balled in the pockets of his grey winter coat. His lips were tight, and his typical
dad smile evaded him. His eyes met the floor, and not me.
Im ready to go, I groggily said. What I really want is a cheeseburger. I havent eaten in

over 24-hours!

In his most serious tone, dad said, Sandi, ol Doc. Azrak wants to keep you here a little
longer. He needs to go over the images he captured during the colonoscopy. I imagined that this
is the tone dad uses to talk to his fellow aerospace engineers.
Ugh! impatiently, I lied on the exam table in my hospital gown, thinking about the next

days lesson plans. My co-teacher is an idiot, so she wont have anything good planned for

tomorrow.

Dr. Azrak entered the room hurriedly with manilla envelope in hand. In this envelope
were the images that changed my life forever. So, Sandi, we need to talk to you about the results
of the colonoscopy. Theyre worrisome to me and my team. We can not definitively say, yet, but
we think there is a much more serious issue here that needs to be taken care of. He pulled out a
piece of paper with doctor jargon and six images that showed different sections of my colon. He
pointed to the first image. This is what it looks like about six inches from your rectum. In the
image, the polyps looked large. They were piled on top of one another and looked to clog a third
of my colon passage. Please see me later this week so we can discuss the results of the biopsy.
Then, we can discuss next steps.
 Dad never broke his gaze from the photos. Attentively, he listened to not miss a word
from Dr. Azrak. I, on the other hand, just saw a sickness that grew unstoppingly. It explained how
I been physically feeling for the past couple of years. It was not a gluten intolerance or a lactose
intolerance. My head swirled. Why does this mean for my future? Am I supposed to create a
lesson plan now?!
To bring me back to earth, dad reached for my hand and held it. We will get through
this, he commanded.

My legs swayed back and forth, dangling from the exam table in Dr. Azraks office.I
nodded my head and kept my lips in a stiff line as Dr. Azrak gave the diagnosis. I was the first to
respond, So what if I dont want the treatment? How long will it take for me to die?
Moms eyes fell to the floor, and tears welled. At that moment, I didnt care if my own
mother heard me talk about my death. Mikes head also dropped. He placed his arms on his
knees and he pressed his fingertips together. Like in the movies, you think that your family will
rush to you. To give you a hug. But, in times like these, people freeze. People panic.
Dad, the problem solver, sat straighter and sternly responded, No one is going to die.
Sandi, you are not dying. We are going to listen to Dr. Azrak, and were going to find out what
we can do to get you healthy. If I were in dads shoes, I would have told me the same thing.
When I heard Dr. Azrak say I had cancer, though, I didnt see my life flash in front of my
eyes. Instead, my dreams, goals, and aspirations shattered. All the things that I wanted to achieve,
but hadnt, yet. The cancer was not only in my colon, but a disease had also started to devour my
hope for a positive future. It only took in an instant for cancer to latch into my subconscious.
Forget cancer treatments, I replied. Im going to live my life out on the beach
somewhere and die.
Moms eyes watered even more. Sandi, stop it! she yelled. Lets take this seriously. I
indifferently shrugged my shoulders to her command.
Mikes eyes met mine. I wondered how long this relationship would last after this..

Dr. Azrak, becoming uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, chimed in to
provide the objective stance needed, Cancer treatment is difficult. No one can tell you
otherwise. But, you may be treatable. Sloppily and hurriedly, he began drawing a picture of the
digestive system. The colon is a long tube that encases the rest of the digestive system. Then, he
drew many circles in the colon to represent the polyps that infested my colon. The entire colon.
Doctors have such steady hands for surgeries, but their artistic ability lacks. It can not be
predicted when you will die, Sandi, because we do not know how fast the tumor is growing. But,
we know that there are over 40 polyps growing in your colon. We do not know about how many
are benign, or noncancerous, but from the biopsied large groupings of polyps, you do, in fact,
have cancer.
What stage is the cancer? mom inquired. Four years ago, she was diagnosed with stage
one breast cancer, so she understood the meaning and importance of each stage.
We dont have a stage for the cancer. Theyll know during surgery. Surgery!? My brain

entered into a panic. Its likely that the colon will need to be removed.

In my line of work, Dr. Azrak, its best to keep the original equipment, dad said matter
of factly. When we use the original parts in engineering, thats when a product works best.
Im not sure about the details or what other options there will be. Talk more to your
surgeon to find out more. Im sorry I cant tell you more. At the front desk, check out and
schedule your appointment with a surgeon on your way out.
Mike reached for my hand. We walked first out of the exam room with mom and dad
following. I felt dejected, but also an eerie feeling of weightlessness. It felt like my dreams could
potentially dissipate, or be put on hold, but I felt refreshed: I needed to be happy and use my time
wisely. Those lesson plans seemed like the most unimportant thing.
How are you feeling? Mike whispered as we proceeded to the check-out of the doctors
office.
Im fine, I said with a slight smile. How could he think I am fine when I was just

diagnosed with colorectal cancer?

I need to make an appointment with a colorectal surgeon, I told the nurse at the front
desk. The nurse looked to be about my age, in her 20s or 30s. She examined my paperwork, and
her face tilted to the side and eyebrows raised. As she read my diagnosis, her tone was sweeter
and gentler. I wonder if everyone who knows I have cancer will look at me like this?
Sweetheart, I can schedule you with Dr. Fuad Turfah for this Thursday. It seems pretty urgent
that you get an appointment soon. Urgent? What do I need to know about my tumor? She wrote
the appointment on a piece of paper. Dont lose this paper. When you arrive to your
appointment, present this at the front desk of your surgeons office.
The car ride back to my apartment was mostly silent, which is strange for my dad. He is
always conversing or singing. Occasionally, dad would speak and say encouraging things.
Well take everything a day at a time. Well get through this.
Mike hadnt let go of my hand since we left the office. His thumb rubbed the side of my
hand. Maybe he wasnt on his way out the door.
Chapter Three