Textbooks conclude that one member out of every family will at some time in his/her life have cancer. To most, that statistic would go in one ear and out the other, but when you're actually diagnosed, all you think of is that now you're one of those statistics. Being diagnosed with osteogenic sarcoma, a cancer of the bone, had a far greater impact on my soul than anything that was yet to follow. I cried for a period of time that doctors felt seemed abnormally short. Then, I remember, I was always exceptionally happy. I think I covered up because I felt that if I was accepting things well, then others would not worry about me. I was always hearing comments about how incredibly strong and vibrant my attitude was. Of course, I had my bad days, but they were hidden until I was alone to think about what was constantly going through my mind. One thing I didn't dwell on was the fact that due to chemotherapy, I would lose my hair. That was great - in an odd way - because the odds of hair growing back in a different color or texture were extremely high, and I also knew it would come back; unlike my dad's. As for chemo, I went through it like a breeze. I set out to prove each one of my doctors wrong, and I did it. I didn't get sick and went home a day early from each treatment, which was a first with this type of chemo, since most chemotherapies, however many hundreds there are, causes vomiting. The most traumatic time during treatment, except for the diagnosis, developed just three weeks before surgery. I was told that the chemo, Hi-Dose Methotrexate and BCD, weren't working because my tumor wasn't showing any size reduction. Again, I went through the complete regime of x-rays. It was starting to become a torturous setback in my progress. Finally, the tests came back and concluded that the chemo was killing the malignant cells, but the cells just weren't disappearing. So the tumor was decreasing in size. We continued the Methotrexate and BCD with extremely optimistic sights. My surgery was performed on Friday, November 20 - Mom and Dad's anniversary - and went well. It was considered major surgery requiring the amputation of the left leg at mid femur. I had set goals for myself once surgery had been done. One of which was walking by Thanksgiving. (That only gave me five days, but I was up and walking, with the aide of crutches, by Sunday, the 22.) Therefore, I had a temporary prosthesis attached to my little leg immediately from surgery. That process had not been done for seven years. Another first. Don Shurr, the Prosthetic Representative, called me a "trooper." Since surgery, everything has gone well. I finished my protocal, passed my first three month check-up with flying colors, and have rehabilitated back to my normal energy level, and am now using only one cane. Today, I am cured and although sports are not my big thing anymore, I do what I can and work to get better where as before, I did only enough to get by. And now I try to help those just diagnosed to overcome as I have. Today, I look at myself as fortunate and will never take for granted that the stabilities in my life are there forever because life is borrowed; not owned. But what I do know now is that no matter how bad something is, there will always be something worse. By Tracie Webb (This was a short, unedited biography submitted for her College Freshman English Course 101 at Simpson College...Teacher comments: A good general summary of the whole experience with a strong conclusion -- A) Unfortunately, her desire to go to college and become a journalist was short-lived. The cancer came back in her lungs and after 4 years and many surgeries her hard-fought battle was lost. Our hearts still ache but we treasure our memories, her smile, her sports ability, her love of driving her red convertible, and most of all, her challenges in life that we will forever keep in our hearts.

"No one else will ever know the strength of my love for you. After all, you're the only one who knows the sound of my heart from the inside." Mom

When we got the news that day I didn't know what to say I took a walk to clear my head This is where the walking led Can't believe you're really gone Don't feel like going home. So I'm gonna sit right here With you so near Remembering you with a tear And wish you were here... Sometimes the greater plan Is kinda hard to understand Still don't make sense Still can't understand. So long my, Tracie This all seems so crazy I'll remember you And all the memories, too. SO I'M GONNA SIT RIGHT HERE WITH YOU SO NEAR REMEMBERING YOU WITH A TEAR AND WISH YOU WERE HERE.

"I remember my first day without you...never been the same. I'm constantly aware of your absence."

Tracie Webb is scared to death, to hear what the doctor will say. She hasn't been well since the motorcycle fell And the soreness just won't go away. So she sits and she waits with her mom & her dad, til the nurse with the smile stands at the door and says will you please come with me. Tracie Webb is scared to death 'Cause the Doctor just told her the news. Between the red cells and white Something's not right, But we're gonna take care of you. Six chances in ten it won't come back again With the therapy they're gonna try. It's just been approved, It's the strongest there is. We hope we got it in time. Tracie Webb closes her eyes... and She dreams she's dancing Around and around without any cares, And her very first love is holding her close And the soft wind is blowing her hair. Tracie Webb is scared to death As she sits holding her mom. Cause it would be a mistake To take her leg, A girl so active and bright. For just this morning right there on her pillow Was the cruelest of any surprise. And she cried when she gathered it all in her hands. The proof that she couldn't deny. It's five years later, More surgery in store, And when it's all done they all start to cry Cause this A. M. the disease had won. Tracie Webb closes her eyes... We hope she's dancing, Around and around without any care, Hope her true love is holding her close And the soft wind is blowing her hair....