Hi guys, I am Mark. I wanted to share my story with everyone because I think it can be motivational or help fuel someone in a similar situation with hope and a sense of fate.
It all started when I was in the 5th grade. My life was the average teenage life. I was a nice kid, I had good grades, and I loved footbal and enjoyed daily practice. In the first half of February, my dad began acting really strange. He was quiet, seemed uncomfortable, and appeared distressed. I tried talking with him about it a few times, but every time he just responded with "I am okay, I just had a tough day at work." But since he said that every time, I knew something was off. I just tried to ignore it and hoped my mom would figure it out. Time passed, but there wasn't really any progress. That's when I started worrying. After a while mom and dad started going to bed very early, like two hours earlier than usual, or at 9 pm. So one night, as I heard them talking, I quietly walked to their bedroom and just stood there, listening to what they were saying. I found out that my dad has had severe headaches for a month now, and today he threw up, so I heard they are going to the hospital tommorow. That's when I really started to worry, but I couldn't really figure out what to do, so I just got back to my bedroom and wound down. In the morning, they were getting ready together, and they don't ussualy do that, so I asked them why, and they just said "Oh, we are just going to the mall because we wanted to spend some time together." I knew that they were going to the hospital after they dropped me at school, but I just acted as if I believed them. What confirmed that they were going to the hospital was mom driving and dad being in the passenger seat. So in school, I honestly forgot about it. I was hanging out with my friends and had a busy schedule, so that worry just disappeared. After school, mom picked me up, looking really sad and worried, but I didn't even bother asking her if she was okay because I knew what the answer would be. When we got home, I saw dad lying on the couch, and as soon as I saw him, Mom told me, "Mark, we need to talk with you. Please change and carry your backpapck to your bedroom, and then come back downstairs." I was getting so anxious, but I just rushed to leave my stuff at my bedroom and changed so I could come back downstairst as soon as possible. I was back downstairs in a minute, and I instantly sat on the couch and I just began with "Sooo??" They both sighed, and mom started talking. I couldn't believe my ears. They quite litteraly told me, Dad most likely had a brain tumor. I was in shock. Mom said that there was a chance his body lacks a much-needed nutrient, but she said that Dad already had an MRI, and that the doctor said he most likely had a brain tumor. I couldn't believe it. I didn't even have dinner. I just got straight to my bedroom and started crying. I was crying for four hours straight. Every single possibility was going through my mind (dad dying, dad surviving, mom and me moving out because dad died, mom not having enough money to feed me and herself. Just extreme things that probably weren't going to happen, but I was in fear. Tommorow at school I couldn't function. All i was thinking about was Dad, and whether he would survive or not. My concentration fell to zero. I litteraly didn't listen to a single word any of the teachers said. I was repeating the same negative thoughts all day long. I was functioning like that for a good week until everybody around me started noticing something was happening to me, or with me, and that it was not alright. My friends noticed I've been really quiet and just looked disoriented. Mom started asking weird and specific questions, at the end of the week, she already knew I wasn't nearly okay and demanded that I visit a mental health professional, like a therapist or a psychiatrist. I knew I needed a mental health professional to help me because deep inside, I knew how bad my mental health was. So my mom booked an appointment with a therapist, who was an old friend of hers. The appointment was already tommorow because my mom knew the therapist. The next day, at 10 a.m., I got ready, and my mom and I got in the car because a two hour ride was ahead of us. We arrived right before my appointment at 12 p.m. I got terrified and shy a few minutes before I came in, because I didn't really know how therapy works. To my surprise, that woman was lovely and welcoming, with a really slow, calm approach. She started asking me basic questions like, "How is school?" and "What sports do I like?" and those kind of things, but then she started asking me about dad and how that whole situation makes me feel, and I really opened up to her and we both almost started crying. She really wanted to help me. We spent two hours talking, and immediatly after the session ended, I told Mom to book another apointment for next week. I really felt relieved and happier. I continued coming to therapy session, but dad was still struggling. He had chemotherapy sessions two to three times a week, but the progress was minimal. Besides that, he went completely bald, and was very tired and looked lifeless looking everyday. I started questioning if the chemotherapy is even working. He was already on his third month of chemotherapy, but the doctors said the progress was very little. I was even more frustrated than sad at that moment. That was the moment I started praying every night, and it was also when I became super religious. I really had faith and trust in God, and suddenly, two months later, after the monthly MRI, the results were fantastic. The tumor was completely gone. I wasn't in shock because I knew God protected him. The MRI results were so unexpected that, when we arrived home, a bunch of journalists were waiting to interview my dad. He was also in shock, with a big smile on his face., but after all that struggle, he couldn't really handle interviews at the moment. He really just wanted to go home, get some rest, and get his life back together. The next day kids at school started litteraly jump-scaring me in the hallways, asking me about my dad and telling me how amazing and inspiring my story was. Some of them even opened up to me and told me they have a similar situation in their family, so the advice I gave them is already written here. Just believe iGod exists, and that he procets you and always has a plan with you, and trust him with your whole heart. Believe that he will save you. That is really important, and I know many people who have experienced God in different and beautiful ways, too.That is why I wanted to share this story; to give people hope and inspiration. I hope I helped you, and if you are reading this just know:"God hears you."