The Impression Still Remains

The Impression Still Remains

By Caitlin Lunday

(reprinted with permission)

“You have to face your fears before they take over.” This quotation is from one of the bravest girls I knew. Her name was Monica Hatch and I will never forget the impression she and many others similar to her made on my life. At a camp site in Minnesota there is a cancer camp called Kamp K.A.C.E. At this camp any child between the ages of 6 and 18 that have been affected by cancer is invited. A child cancer patient and his or her siblings can attend. K.A.C.E. stands for kids against cancer everywhere. My family never knew that such a thing existed until the day that changed my life forever.

Bailey, my older sister, was diagnosed with leukemia at the age of 7. The doctors thought it was the flu, so the cancer went undetected for a couple months. When my sister started treatment, the doctor was honest and told her he had no clue if she would live. They had an experimental treatment they could try but no guarantee of her survival. After three long years the cancer was declared “defeated” and she was done with treatment. Thankfully she has stayed in complete remission since then. But this story isn’t about her years of battling cancer; it’s about Lance’s and Monica’s. Due to the fact that Bailey had cancer, we were now welcomed into Kamp K.A.C.E. where our eyes were opened to the impact of cancer.

I was allowed to go at the young age of six to attend with my sisters. Everything there was not like how a normal person would assume it to be. At that camp every camper left their illness and troubles at the gate. Everyone got a chance to act like the normal kids they should have been if cancer didn’t impact their lives. There were kids there that were still receiving treatment at the time, like Bailey, and there were kids that were done with treatment hopefully for good. I made many friends at camp-some for a day and some for years. Most of these friends were in my age group and others were in my oldest half-sister’s age group. The older friends should have been classified as babysitters more than friends. I had friends who were a sibling, like me, a cancer patient, or a cancer survivor. We got to swim, play games, dance, and fish. We got to do many things. I cried leaving camp the first year. I left behind all my friends and the cool, awesome counselors. One scary thing that I didn’t realize for a couple of years is sometimes those friends don’t come back.

My first couple years at camp we didn’t have any campers that lost the fight to cancer. That was what caused the young illusion that cancer wasn’t deadly in kids. I remember meeting Monica for the first time. She had an awesome fold up purple flowery cane and her smile was the biggest I’ve ever seen. I was jealous though when I found out she got to get rides in the golf carts. My counselors explained it was just so she wouldn’t get tired from walking the long distances she was still weak from treatment. She explained to me what cancer she had but I was too young to understand. We talked about the usual stupid kid things like school, favorites, and cute boys at camp. We weren’t the closet of friends but who can get close with only a week. I never saw her with hair on her head which wasn’t unusual there. That’s how I became friends with Lance. Everyone called him “Fuzzy-was-he” because all he ever had was peach fuzz. Since I was older by a few years I easily bugged him trying to help make his camp years funny. Both these kids left marks on my heart.

In 2007 my family did the usual fuss of trying to get to camp on time. We got there and I noticed Monica wasn’t in my cabin or my sister’s which meant she wasn’t at camp. At the usual ceremony they said everyone survived. I was very confused especially when my counselor, Amy, came up and told me I was wanted in cabin A. I went to the cabin to find my sisters’ cabin all gathered around trying to figure out what this talk was about. They assumed it was about the pranks they pulled last year. We waited for what seemed like hours until Marcia came into the cabin.

“Everyone in this cabin knows who Monica Hatch is right?” Marcia asked. When everyone was done murmuring yes she continued, “She has had a rough year.” The girl next to me started to cry and my blood ran cold. “She has been taken off treatment because the cancer has been determined as terminal. The doctors tried everything up until now to keep her healthy enough to come to camp one last time. This was her last wish to go to camp once more to wish you all a goodbye. Now I have to warn you she looks rough.” My eyes were starting to water along with everyone else’s. “The tumor in her stomach has grown a lot. Her friends walk to the other side of the street to avoid contact with her. I’m asking you guys to help make her one day at camp, tomorrow, as good as it can be even just walking up and saying ‘Hi Monica’ will do.”

The next day I ditched my cabin and hung out with Monica from the moment I saw her to the moment she had to leave. I worked my hardest to make it seem like I wasn’t doing it out of pity although I will never forget how she looked. You could see every bone in her body. The tumor was so big she looked pregnant, and she was in a wheelchair, but despite everything, she was still smiling. She was fearless knowing she was so close to death but not acknowledging it. She taught me that strength is measured by how much you’re put through but still can smile sincerely. She also showed that hope is everywhere, you just have to look for it. She also proved that heroes are everywhere but just in hiding.

My favorite unknown hero is Lance. In the three years I was friends with him I never once heard out of his mouth a sob story about cancer. I honestly have no clue what type of cancer he had for all I knew he was in remission and just shaved his head. Two years after Monica’s passing, in 2009, I went to camp ready to hug Lance and rub his head as I always did as a type of hello. I couldn’t find him in the crowd of campers, which didn’t surprise me since the crowd is usually huge. As the day progressed I thought he was avoiding me. Finally Amy and I started talking about the survivors. She randomly proclaimed, “I’m going to miss seeing Lance’s smiling face and those lame jokes”

“Which Lance are you talking about? And why did he not want to come anymore?” I asked.

“It was ‘Fuzzy-Was-He’ and he didn’t survive.” Amy replied.

I was distraught. I didn’t expect this since I never knew what kind of cancer he was battling and at that moment I didn’t know if I could manage to get that question out. There are many confusing things in our lives but to meet a kid who never tried to get attention using his terminal illness is something I can’t figure out. People try to get as much attention as possible out of a twisted ankle but yet this 11-year old boy never once admitted he was losing the battle to cancer. Lance is forever my hero along with Monica and countless other cancer patients I met at that camp. I’m glad I got to experience that camp.

“Live each day as it comes to the fullest because God never promised anyone tomorrow.” This is a quote from the bravest girl I knew. Many lessons can be learned from Monica and Lance; hope is everywhere you just have to look for it, strength is measured by how much you’re put through but still can smile sincerely, and heroes are everywhere just in hiding. An important lesson I learned from these two young angels is that an ending can mean many things whether it is a new life, a new beginning, or no more pain.