Columbia, South Carolina
Grand Central Station to New Haven was a train ride I took many times during 2003 and 2004 to see my dear friend. I was grateful I was so close by during this time to be there for her. We are so very different, but have managed to stay friends for over ten years and I appreciate her so much. She’s an amazing person and I am incredibly proud of her and her accomplishments.
There are so many moments I remember and it’s hard to choose one that means more than the other. One I remember was after her surgery. My family had come to visit me in NYC before Christmas, but it was also the time of her surgery and I was not going to miss seeing her. I hopped on the train for a quick trip back and forth. I was a little apprehensive seeing her since this surgery was no joke and I had no idea what to expect even after all our conversations leading up to the “big day.”
Naturally she made it through as I knew she would, however I certainly wasn’t used to seeing my sweet “straight” friend so high on drugs! HA! Of course we chit chatted, but mostly about nonsense. Then her husband came into the room soon after and I wanted to get the low down from him. During our conversation, she came to again and we must have been laughing about something in order to lighten the mood. Poor girl, she thought we were talking about her or making fun of her for something and it was hard to explain to her that we weren’t. I felt so badly even though I knew she wouldn’t remember any of it. And I don’t think we ever talked about it, ha! 
Manama, Bahrain
August 2008: Istanbul, Turkey. We had moved from our home in Bahrain, thousands of miles away with the hope of Sami doing better in a better hospital with the latest treatments. Sami died September 15, 2008, from Osteosarcoma.
Sami and I used to take daily trips via a hospital-provided shuttle for about a half of every day to go to the hospital. Sami was taking radiation therapy for lesions on his lungs. We were tired doing this every day, but this very day Sami had woken up looking so peaceful, and while we were in the bus he held my hand looking out at the beautiful Istanbul landscape and said, “I love these bus rides, they are so peaceful.”
What I remember the most is his face. Yes, he had lost most of his hair, lost a lot of weight and hardly looked like the guy I met, fell in love with, got married to, but to me at the moment he had never looked more handsome, beautiful and happy. We looked at each other and smiled; then, I put my head on his shoulders and briefly closed my eyes in an attempt to remember this moment forever, and I did. It feels like it’s etched in my mind and every time I close my eyes, I can remember him exactly the way he looked, how his hand felt in mine, how he smelt, and I even get a feel of the surroundings that day, the wind in our faces.
Samia’s Moment in Arabic
Mexico City, Mexico
Hello my name is Germán De la Rosa, I am 26 years old and I live in Mexico City.
I am a cancer survivor, an osteosarcoma survivor to be exact. It happened when I was 14 years old (in 1996) when I get hit on the knee while playing basketball. It happened really fast, we think that the hit had swollen the knee but it gradually kept growing, becoming red and hot, after 6 months I went to the National Institute of Pediatrics, where I received help quickly and informed me what the cancer is. The tumor was osteosarcoma (bone cancer). I was treated with chemotherapy. The tumor was removed from my knee and I got an internal prosthesis in order to save my leg. Throughout the 10 years I had 2 more prostheses, but every day the bone was becoming weaker. I just had to try to be “complete”.
In 2005 I had an accident and I fractured the bone, it wasn’t in a good condition and I decided to amputate the leg and no longer be suffering from extreme pain (in January 30 2006). I started using an external prosthesis, a “C” leg, which I still have and I am still learning to walk properly.
Currently I have a normal life, I’m an audio engineer, music producer, bassist and vocalist of my band, Televisor. I’m helping people who suffer through similar situations. I’m a volunteer in the foundation “Aqui nadie se rinde.” I like to say to all patients is, “Never give up, strive to fulfill your dreams, cancer isn’t a disease; it is a lesson of life. A disabled person isn’t someone who doesn’t have a part of his body, disability is a person who refuses to see and accept the reality in which we live.”
Germán’s moment in Spanish
Hola mi nombre es Germán de la Rosa, tengo 26 años y vivo en México Distrito Federal.
Soy un sobreviviente del cáncer, de un osteosarcoma para ser exacto, esto paso cuando tenia 14 años (en 1996) y todo a raíz de un golpe en la rodilla jugando basketball. Todo paso realmente rápido, pensamos que por el golpe se me había hinchado la rodilla pero poco a poco fue creciendo, poniéndose rojo y caliente, después de 6 meses fui al Instituto Nacional de Pediatría, donde recibí ayuda de inmediato y me dijeron que es el cáncer.
El tumor fue cáncer, osteosarcoma (cáncer en el hueso) me trataron con quimioterapias, me quitaron el tumor de la rodilla y me pusieron una prótesis interna para salvar mi pierna, pasaron 10 años y 2 prótesis más, pero cada día el hueso se iba debilitando y todo por tratar de estar “completo”.
En el 2005 me fracture el hueso, como ya no estaba en buenas condiciones, decidí amputarme la pierna y dejar de sufrir por dolores muy fuertes (el 30 de enero del 2006). Empecé a usar una prótesis externa, una C Leg, que aun tengo y sigo aprendiendo a usarla correctamente.
Actualmente tengo una vida normal, soy ingeniero en audio, productor musical, bajista y vocalista de mi banda “Televisor”. Me gusta ayudar a personas que están en la misma situación que yo estuve, soy voluntario de la fundación “Aquí nadie se rinde”. Lo que me gusta decirle a los pacientes de cáncer es: Nunca se rindan, luchen por lograr sus sueños, el cáncer no es una enfermedad… es una lección de vida. “Una persona discapacitada no es aquella que le falta una parte de su cuerpo, un discapacitado es aquella persona que se niega a ver y aceptar la realidad en la que vivimos.”
Columbia, South Carolina
One thing that stood out to me in the hours and days following my sister’s surgery was that what we thought was going to be one of the best hospitals in the country (Yale) turned out to be a nightmare when it came to patient care. Knowing that this is a teaching hospital, I assumed that there would be a good deal of “oversight,” if you will. This was not the case and my sister was mostly ignored. (It makes me angry all over again thinking about it years later.) This was major surgery and she was in a lot of pain and we had to constantly stay on the staff to get anything and what we got was very little help! I went so far after the fact as filing a formal complaint, but got no response to it whatsoever. They just didn’t really seem to care. The whole experience was very disappointing.
I picked this “moment” to stress to patients and family members that someone needs to be there 24 hours each day to stay on top of what is going on after surgery. I can’t imagine what my sister would have gone through if she didn’t have someone there with her. We were there and we were persistent, and it was still bad.
Carson City, Nevada
My son is the bravest person I know. He was diagnosed with osteosarcoma when he was just 13 years old. He has always done everything asked of him, no matter how much pain he is in. The moment that really sticks out to me is after his limb-salvage surgery. After surgery he had trouble with his bowels and stomach. He was told he needed to walk to get his bowels to ‘wake up’. He walked for days and didn’t get better. We didn’t know it then, but he was dying from an intussusception. When it was finally discovered, he was rushed into emergency surgery at 1:00am 6 days after his limb-salvage. He had to have a bowel resection. They had to remove 15 inches of his bowel. The pediatric surgeon told us that he was so bad inside he should have been complaining a lot more than he was. All he ever said was, “My stomach hurts.” He endured a tube down his nose into his stomach to suck out the bile before surgery. He endured a feeding tube for 2 months. Again, he did everything asked of him; no matter what. He is the bravest, most courageous person I know. Thank you.
