Before I actually begin blogging, I feel it’s necessary to give a little bit of the back-story to all of the readers out there. So I guess this is the blog before the blog.

I struggled a lot when I first enrolled in college. I mean A LOT. Going to school was something I was supposed to do—not necessarily something I wanted to do. So I went for something that sounded good (forensic psychology) and tried to want it. It failed. I started working and making my own money. I picked up a second job and thought to myself: “Oh screw it. I don’t need school when I can support myself without it.” That lasted about a year. My family helped me realize that education was important and I couldn’t bartend forever. So, I tried again. I changed my major to English/Secondary Education and received my AA from LaGuardia Community College.

I brought my passion of English and Literature to QC and decided the time of making mistakes was over. I could not mess up again and wanted to know what it was like, for once, to be the nerdy girl and not the party girl I always knew. I worked hard. My GPA never dipped below a 3.5. I got my first A+’s. Ever. From my second semester onward I was determined to get into the English Honors Seminar and be in a class of students whose caliber (I felt) out-shined mine. I accomplished that. I got into the Seminar and found that I was amongst equals. I finally felt I had made myself an academic home. This Seminar became a sanctuary for me. It was a sanctuary built on quicksand.

In August of 2011 I had developed a strange rash on my legs that was physically incapacitating at development. A biopsy had been taken of the rash which came back “leukemic”. My dermatologist sent me to Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center where I became a patient of Dr. Dan Douer. During the Fall 2011 semester I was kept on observation. I went for weekly or biweekly visits with him. He did not initially believe I had leukemia. None of the signs were there. I continued on with my life and my classes as normal as possible. I finished the Fall 2011 semester with another set of four straight A’s and felt I was on top of the world. I successfully managed the stress and fear that comes along with having an illness without it having an effect on my standards as a student

In February 2012, things changed. Rapidly. A bone marrow biopsy was given to me which showed that I did, in fact, have Acute Myelomonocytic Leukemia. It may sound strange but at this time all I could think about was: “What the hell is going to happen with my classes? I’m supposed to graduate this semester. I put too much work into my classes to lose my Honors. How can I make this work? I have to make this work.” And I did. I was hard. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I had to tell all of my professors what was going on with me and withdraw from my first class. It broke my heart. Thick headed and strong willed, I refused to drop any more classes. I was going to make school the one “thing” to keep me going.  My doctor agreed that continuing with my courses would be good for me because I was going to be confined in a hospital for a minimum of 4 weeks. School was a focus that I could use as an escape during my time of treatment. It was hard at first. I was severely shocked and depressed. I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep up with three courses, chemotherapy, family, and all the other side effects of the chemo. I was lost but I knew deep down inside I was going to do it.

The majority of work for the three courses involved reading, writing, and textual analyses. This was something I could do while confined to a hospital bed and attached to IV drips 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I emailed my professors constantly. I fell a little behind but knew I would catch up. I had to. I knew I had to graduate. Without my diploma, what future did I have? If I didn’t have a future or lost my future, what was the purpose of fighting for my life? I finished my Honors paper (equivalent to the beginning stages of a thesis) while in the hospital. When I completed treatment and released from the hospital I began attending classes almost immediately. I participated and realized I was still the student I always wanted to be. I made it home just in time to take the Honors test and pass—chemo brain and all. I walked in the 88^th graduation ceremony and received my diploma, with honors, amongst my friends, family, and classmates. My love for my major became more firmly rooted as I saw it was helping me want to save my own life. And then I realized…

That was what education can do. It can give you the power to help you want to save your life. I became my own advocate (both inside the hospital and on campus). I made sure my professors treated me as an equal to other students but worked around my doctor appointments, hospital stays, and emergency room visits. My professors and I had to approach education a little differently as I was no longer a “normal” or typical student. We all had to make it work. It was a bumpy road but we got through it. I’m still making it work, every day, until I can look back and say I was cured of my cancer.

I hope that my future posts will help someone—anyone—who may have to struggle to in order to get the education he/she desires and deserves. I want Surviving to be proof that a disability does not need to be disabling and show that if you want something bad enough, you’ll go through hell to get it.