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Erin Stehlik

Professor Dickerson

WRT 150-44

16 April 2015

Working Till the End

Imagine spending countless hours at the hospital waiting to hear any type of news; good

or bad; longing to know if your father will wake up from his major brain surgery. Imagine

staring out the window at the children playing on the playground next to the hospital and being

the same age as them, but having more responsibilities than most adults. Imagine being a third

grader, watching everyone you care about cry and pray as the nurses take your daddy through the

big white doors. An eerie feeling lingers in the air of the hospital waiting room as you sit with

your family and all the other sad eyed people. These types of hospital visits were regular

occurrences for me during the course of my childhood.

My dad was diagnosed with brain cancer when I was seven years old. As a third grader,

his illness was not something I could completely understand but I tried my best. My brothers and

I were sent back and forth between family members while my mom worked and spent numerous

hours with my dad at the hospital. My aunts, uncles, grandparents, and neighbors came forward

to help in any way they could. When I was allowed (I’m not sure, it just seemed more formal) to

visit my dad he always seemed normal. Other than the bandage around his head, he was still the

same person. I was often reminded that he was sick, but I had a hard time comprehending why he

needed to stay in the boring white room, connected to so many beeping computers, instead of

coming home with me. As time passed, I hoped he would come home.

Unfortunately, my dad’s cancer kept returning. I really wanted to help but there was only

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so much I could do at my age. I decided to write a letter to the American Cancer Society. It read,

"Dear American Cancer Society, My dad got brain cancer last year. I wanted to buy a ribbon to

support him, but my mom said there wasn't one. So I was hoping you could make a ribbon for

him. My daddy likes orange or blue. Thank you, Erin age 8". My aunt was so moved when she

read my letter that she took it upon herself to make my dream a reality. She had magnetic

ribbons made for me to sell. I sold hundreds of them to my friends and family; my aunt even had

to put in a second order. I raised so much money that I thought I could single handedly take

down cancer, but being so young, I couldn’t have been more naive.

Fig. 1. Letter I wrote to the American Cancer Society. Fig 2. Magnet my aunt made for me to sell.

A few years later, my family learned that my grandpa had prostate cancer and that my

dad’s brain tumors were growing again. In addition, I learned that my close friend Kelsey, a

fellow fifth grader at the time, had a cancerous tumor on her brain stem. I had not even began

middle school yet, but I was already experiencing things most people would not encounter until

they were thirty or older. I knew I had to do more to counteract this horrible disease. I had heard

about an event in my area, Relay for Life, a 24 hour walk for cancer, and decided to check out

one of the meetings. I instantly fell in love with everything about the event. At the age of twelve,

I became the youngest Relay for Life team captain in Clinton County history. I rallied up

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everyone I knew and raised as much money as I could. My first year as a team captain, my sixth

grade year, I managed to get the entire middle school involved and we raised over $14,000.

Fig. 3. My dad and grandpa at the Relay for Life.

Despite the reoccurring brain surgeries, my dad still tried to do everything a dad does. He

took my brothers and I fishing, played ball with us, and even took us to our lake house for most

of the summer. Some of the best memories I have with my dad took place at our lake house. I

vividly remember the summer before 7th grade when he taught me to water ski. My dad spent

many hours and lots of gas in our boat trying to teach me. I fell a lot and swallowed lake water a

few times. When I finally got up I could see his gleaming face from the boat. I knew he was

proud of me and that water skiing was a love we could always share.

When I look back, I have many little memories that will forever be engrained in my

memory. I remember how our freezer was always packed with hundreds of lasagnas people gave

us in attempt to help my mom. I remember my dad being too weak to walk but still insisting to

attend all of my brother’s basketball games, home and away. I remember the jungle of gifted

plants and flowers that grew on our kitchen table. I remember the bad dreams I had at night,

playing out the worst of the worst in my head. But most of all I remember how my dad would be

around his family. I remember the perfectly imperfect Stehlik family gatherings, loud and filled

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with smiles. I remember the yearly family camping trip where it almost always rained but it still

managed to be something I always looked forward to. I remember my dad’s laughter when he

would joke around with his brothers, it is a golden sound that is burned into my memory.

As I got older, I continued to participate and raise money for the Relay for Life. I spent

all year selling cinnamon rolls at school, going door to door asking my neighbors for donations,

and sending out multiple emails reminding my family when the event was. It became a passion

of mine that I worked really hard to pursue. When I was a sophomore in high school, I was

approached by one of the ladies who helped run the Relay. She invited me to join the Relay

committee, saying that they needed a connection to the high school. I accepted and began

participating at a whole new level. I was given the task of gathering high school kids to help set

up for the Relay event. I hung up posters, worked with the administration, and signed up

numerous volunteers from my school. I set goals, helped prepare, and loved every second of

what I was doing. I felt that I was really starting to make an impact.

Junior year of high school is normally filled with college applications, ACT preparation,

and picking out prom attire. My year played out a little differently than I had expected. On the

first day of the school year my dad had his fifth brain surgery, but this time it seemed to affect

him differently. He did not seem to bounce back like he had in the past. My once cheery father

was now worn down and weary. My mom worked hard to keep him comfortable and keep

everyone else happy but it was clear she was struggling as well. From then on I volunteered to

drive my brothers to and from practice, purchase all the groceries for each week, clean and cook

and put in extra help anywhere that I could. As the months went on, things seemed to continue to

get worse and everyone in our house was clearly exhausted.

Soon my dad was too weak to walk and had to use a wheel chair. A bunch of my

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grandpa’s old friends got together and built a ramp for our house so that my dad could travel.

Kindnesses such as these kept my family from falling apart. The last time my dad went to his

doctor for an appointment felt like the worst day of the entire journey. She told my dad that there

was nothing more she could do to help him, and at that moment my dad lost all the hope he had

left. I clearly remember sitting at the kitchen table with my mom, brothers, and the nurse that

visited our house regularly. When she finally got to the main point of our meeting, my heart

broke, my dad was going to be placed on hospice care. Shortly after, a hospital bed was placed in

our living room and everything that happened after seems to be a blur. My aunts and uncles took

turns staying at our house to help my dad while my mom was at work and my brothers and I

were at school. Everyone offered up their prayers and condolences no matter if they knew us or

not.

Unfortunately, on April 13th, 2013, my number one inspiration for beating cancer, my

dad, passed away. He fought brain cancer for nine long years but grew tired. As heartbroken as I

was, I knew I couldn’t stop fighting. Cancer does not only affect me, it affects everyone. My dad

was one of my biggest supporters, and I knew he would want me to continue so that someday no

one else will have to lose their family to this horrible disease like I did.

I began to do research on colleges and degrees trying to figure out what the rest of my life

could be. I decided that I wanted to get a degree in Public Relations with the hopes of someday

working for the American Cancer Society. I want my future to be filled with raising money,

advocating, and working step by step to be a part of the end of cancer. It is something I love, and

I hope to make a career out of it.

I am proud to say that I was approached by a member of the student council from my

former high school and was asked to come home to give a speech on Relay for Life and the story

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of how I became involved. Seeing as it was an amazing opportunity and something I have always

dreamed of doing, I accepted the offer. I was excited to be able to share my story and advocate to

my home town. On January 23rd, I gave my speech to a gym full of people during the half time of

the basketball game. I proudly told them about my dad, and how our family’s journey has

inspired me. I was applauded three different times during the course of my speech and my mom

cried for the entirety. I am delighted to have had the opportunity to tell my real life story. Lots of

people in my community know about parts of my family’s situation but most do not know the

complete version. I had so many people come up and tell me how astonished they were and how

impressed they were with what I had to say. When it was all over I took a deep breath and just

smiled. I could picture my dad’s proud gleaming smile, just like the one I received the day he

taught me to water ski, and I knew I had just done something good. Hopefully more

opportunities will come my way such as this one so that I can spend my life working to make

things better for the world. My dad will forever remain my ignition for working hard to beat

cancer and I know he is rooting for me to succeed all the way from heaven.

Fig. 4. My dad and I at my cousin’s wedding