Hey guys, I'm posting this here because I'm in need of help for this story. Everything you will read is true, and happened to me from the date you see in the title. I sent my two friends this, and they said I needed to go into more detail, to try and connect with the reader more. I highly advise those who have a bit of an emotional sickness, highly emotional, or those whose family member has had a fatal illness, to not read this. This story will be in a spoiler, so please read at your own risk. Again though, this is not finished, I am asking for pointers. Spoiler In January, my brother was teaching me how to ride my dirt bike he built me for Christmas. I made too wide of a turn and fell, on my right leg. Around 2 - 4 weeks later, I had been complaining to my Mom a lot that it hurt, so my Mom said, "Alright, what the **** is going on?!" and took me to get some MRI's. A week later they had called my Mom and said they wanted to get me a Biopsy, and this is where Hell came down on me. My biopsy was about 2 - 3 hours and thank God I was out. After my Biopsy, I had woken up to my Mom and Dad, looking down at me. I woke up with a gigantic smile on my face, like on Christmas Morning at 5 years old getting that new bike that you wanted. That smile, it quickly faded and turned into a cry, my Mom had said to me, "Sean... there's no real way to tell you this, but I know you're mature enough to hear it straight out... they found a tumor, and they think it's cancerous... you're going to have to undergo chemotherapy, you're going to keep your leg, but it will be a long and treacherous journey back to health." I cried, hugging my mom. After my biopsy, I had to get another surgery, this one is for a plastic piece called a Portacath (Click this for description - Definition of port - NCI Dictionary of Cancer Terms), here is a good image for it, http://www.rayschwartz.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/09/implantable.gif. I swear if it wasn't for this little thing I would have probably given up. My first Chemotherapy session... all I could think about was how terrible I'd feel and how scared I was. When the nurses hooked me up to the Chemo, I was scared, like anyone should. I could slowly feel my energy draining, feeling weaker and weaker as time went by. I knew my mom could see it by the expressions on my face, getting tired and tired. I quickly fell asleep, but soon woke up again only to realize my stomach churning, like I had just drank month old sour milk. I needed to throw up, the nurses and my mom wanted to give me medicine, but before it was too late, it happened. I threw up chunks and chunks, not sure what it had been. Many times had I thought that I'd been throwing up blood had only been vile. You don't want too, but you feel so much better afterwards. Three days, this went on, Hell in a bag -- and this was only the beginning. After my Chemotherapy session, I had come home. Surrounded by family, I had been happy. I thought I was confined to my bed, but only soon did I realize that I could come onto my desktop. I had been excited, truthfully after the chemotherapy session, it felt like forever for the next one to come -- which did feel good. I had to go through these Chemotherapy sessions four times, every time felt even worse than the last. After the four Hellish chemo sessions passed, I had to face surgery. This surgery, took out almost all of my bone in my right leg. My surgeon replaced my tibia and femur, which includes my knee, with a Prosthesis (PRAWS-thee-sis), which allows me to walk, bend, and basically everything else I did before I had my surgery. Now, when I grow, my Surgeon will put a heated-magnet over my leg, which will release a spring in my Prosthesis, making my right leg longer. If you have finished reading, please don't feel as though I'm unable to do things, or that I need special treatment, I don't. I thank you for your concern, but I'd like to feel normal. Truthfully, normalcy is the only thing I long for, at the moment. I put this as CnC because it probably would fall under the category, right?
ignoring the fact that your story is very sad and made me want to hug you and cry with you, yes you do need to go more in detail, i.e. why did you have to have the port? it was because you had to have lots of iv meds right? As far as connecting with the reader, you had to go through lots of holidays like this right? tell them about that.
Actually, Holidays my Mom made SURE, I didn't go through Chemotherapy. or Transfusions, and the like. Either way, I thank you for the tip and example, thinking I had put some information on the Port, I looked at it, and I don't have anything on their. o-o