An Unlived Life

September 2004

Back when I was still a teenager, I discovered an unusual mass in my breast tissue. At the time, I had two relatives going through chemotherapy for breast cancer. Naturally, I reported it and was taken to the doctor where it was removed and classified as stage four cancer. I was told that I would only live six months. My sixteenth birthday was six months away. Considering how I had tumors on other organs, my doctor was careful with his words on whether or not I would live to see it. “It’s possible but I cannot make any promise.”

As harsh as it was to hear, I was relieved. I had so much that was happening in my life at the time, that death would have been a welcomed relief. I was not suicidal, just ready to move on. Ready, like an elderly person to leave the arthritic body behind and greet their family who had long since passed.

Naturally, after weeks of going through treatments to stop the cancer or at least, slow it down. It was discovered that my records had been mixed up with another young lady by an identical name. Abigail Ivy isn’t exactly a unique name I suppose. Though the misdiagnosis was a blessed outcome to everyone else, I felt cheated. I had wrapped up the loose ends of my life. I had prepared myself to die financially, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

I was forced to get up and piece my life back together again. The damage was done though. The friendships I had ended, never came back. My grades never truly bounced back that year which hurt my overall GPA costing me a valuable scholarship. I was a zombie simply shuffling though my life.

I have reached my 20th anniversary of my “death sentence” this fall. I am hit by the horrible reality that I have wasted this so called “second chance”. I have spent the last two decades watching others live their lives. I have sat at the window and watched. I rotted away while still breathing. I ruined the chance that the other Abigail didn’t get to experience. I still think about that other fifteen year old girl who was told she would die. The girl that likely did die six months later from cancer. I wasted the years that Ida never got to live. I have let them all down.