Cariloop's-Caregiver Scholarship

Imagine being 10, just spending quality time with your grandmother. We’re laughing, chatting, washing each other’s hair, you know, doing what girls do. As you stroke the comb through, clump after clump of her hair falls to your feet. I could see the hurt in her face. Apparently, she had known for quite a while about her diagnosis, but only then did she finally tell me what was happening. With tears running down her face, she said to me, “Baby, they said I got stage three Breast Cancer.” My heart dropped to my stomach. My grandma, my heart, my world, the only person who stepped up to play the role of a parent in my life, was on the verge of losing hers. From 2012 to 2020, my grandmother battled cancer 3 times. In the beginning, my grandmother was undergoing around 6 to 8 cycles of Chemotherapy a week. There were days when she could barely move, her bones would ache, and her body would become weak. It also didn’t help that before all of this, her body had been fighting Multiple Sclerosis for the past ten years. With these health issues combined, it caused episodes where her muscles would give out, and she would collapse, black out, and forget what had happened leading up to it. There were two instances where she broke her arm and femur bone in the process. After six months, her tumor shrank, and she went into remission for 4 years. After the four years had passed, cancer came back again, and even though it was rough, she beat it. However, the third time hit her the hardest. When it came back this time, it was in both breasts, and the doctor decided a double mastectomy was the best solution to avoid it from coming back ever again. At this point in our lives, I decided to step up and take on the role of her caregiver. My grandmother single-handedly raised, provided, and cared for me, and a lot of the time, she struggled. So it was time I grew up and did the same. For the years to come, I balanced school work and life at home. After a school day, I’d change her mediport drainage, clean her wounds, bathe her, administer her medications/ injection shot, and then tend to housework. I sought employment, but even through our struggles, my grandmother refused to put the pressure of work on me at such a young age; she insisted I focused on schooling and my academic future. Due to no income, we survived on government assistance, depending on her social security check and food stamps to make ends meet. Even though I had an unfortunate home life, I stuck it out, maintained a strong social life, and graduated with a 4.0 average. After her double mastectomy, cancer never returned, but my grandmother came out of that battle a broken woman. She often expressed to me how she felt deformed, disfigured, and “less of a woman” because she had no breasts. Cancer stripped her confidence. This experience taught me that you always stick by, love, support, and encourage those who did it for you. I aided my grandmother through her journey with cancer, and at the end of it all, I let her know that she is the bravest and strongest person I’ve ever known. I let her know that her scars and her chest are just battle wounds. I assured her that it's her survival that makes her one of the greatest women, among many others, to walk this earth.