My name is Robert, but everyone calls me Bobby. When I was 12 I got diagnosed
with cancer. My family supported me and helped me to their best ability till the day I died.
Now I'm going to tell you about my story.




* * *


It was a bright, beautiful day. Everything seemed to be going great. Bobby and his sister, Rosie, were outside playing in the light green grass, riding bikes swinging, and chasing each other around the yard. The bright sun slowly started to set, and suddenly Bobby fell to the ground. He yelled out in pain, Rosie jumped off the swing and ran over to help her brother.
“Are you okay?” asked Rosie.
“No, it hurts...get mom,” Bobby said, with tears rolling down his check.
Rosie ran off yelling for their mom. When she return Bobby was unconscious and cold. His temperature dropped instantly and his skin was pale. His mom called 911 and rushed Bobby to the hospital.






* * *

When his eyes opened the first thing he saw was the the doctor standing over wide eyed and confused. He walked over to the other side of the room to talk to a nurse standing by the door.
His mother joined them in a whispered conversation.
“Do you know what's wrong with my son?” asked Bobby’s mother.
“No, his temperature hopped back up to 96.2 and his breathing is normal. I might have to run a few test to get some knowledge about what may be causing this.” said the doctor.
“I will go get the papers,” said the nurse, running out the door.
“I will need you to sign some papers saying that these test are okay for us to run.” said the doctor.
“Alright, whatever I have to do to make sure my son is healthy.” Said Bobby’s mother.
The doctor walk over to Bobby and began to write on a sheet of paper, then began to ask him questions.
“Hi Bobby, my name is Dr. Rice. I'm going to run some test to find out what is wrong with you. So I will need to take some blood. Is that okay with you?” said the doctor.
Bobby shook his head yes, but had a worried look in on his face. The doctor prepared to take some blood, meanwhile, Bobby’s mother was signing papers and talking with the nurse about the procedures that were about to take place. Bobby was aware of everything that was going on but he was as still as a statue. He couldn't speak, he couldn't tell the doctor about the pain in his stomach. Tears started to flow down his face once again. The doctor suddenly stopped what he was doing in fear of hurting the young Bobby.
He asked, “Is everything alright? Are you in any pain?”
Bobby shook his head yes to tell Dr. Rice that he was in pain. Dr. Rice continued to ask
questions and the young Bobby shook his head yes or no. Finally Dr. Rice got enough blood to run a few tests.
Bobby’s mother stood by his side, holding his hand, teary eyed, waiting to find out what was wrong with her son. She held his hand the whole night. It was almost midnight when the doctor came in and said, “We will have to take your son for a MRI.”







* * *

Two days later Bobby was sent home from the hospital diagnosed with cancer. He was told that he would be receiving radiation for the next few months and had an estimated 2 years to live. Unlike most kids Bobby didn’t sit around mopping about his fate, he went outside and played and helped clean the yard. He loved helping others most of all. He would run over to his neighbors house and help them rake and mow and do whatever they ask him to help with.
As he grew older, Bobby continued to help anyone he could with whatever they needed. He got married and had children and became a grandfather. The days went by and the years continued and he slowly started to get worse, he had surprised everyone when he pushed through 62 years of pain and love from his family. He began to get infections in his fingers and legs and he went back to the hospital again, the place he spent most of his life. The doctors gave him a choice. He could lose his legs and parts of his fingers or die. Bobby’s choice was clear, he lost his legs and his fingers and became bedridden. While he laid in bed all day his wife brought him food, and drinks and helped him with whatever he needed. Bobby felt greedy having the woman he was supposed to take care of be taking care of him. He apologized constantly and always asked her if she needed anything. He would help her with as much as he could, trying to make up for the work he was putting upon her.
A year went by and Bobby began to get sicker and sicker. His family came from every city, every state and every country to come and support him through his struggle and the fight he had put up for years. Friends even came to wish the family good will and many didn’t understand how Bobby was and tried to help him with many things. He refused in the nicest way possible and tried to do everything on his own even though he knew he couldn’t. A couple days went by and he began to slowly die, his eyes would close and his breathing would slowdown. He was comfortable and ready to go but he was also scared. He didn't want to put anyone through pain. Everyone gathered around his bed saying they love him and telling him it was okay to go. Tears rolled down their cheeks, they were embracing each other, scared. He held on longer than anyone would have thought and a few days later was the day he died. December 10, the day that ended the fight. Forever.