Miraculously, my daughter came back from death
Although the 2.5-year treatment plan outlined by her doctors painted a “bright outlook,” reality proved otherwise. Like many other families, we found ourselves unexpectedly hospitalized multiple times due to medication side effects, unexplained fevers, infections, and more. These hospital stays could last for weeks, and Aniya seemed to experience almost every possible complication, leading us to spend months in the hospital.
This relapse was different. Cancer cells didn’t readily show up in her bloodstream but lurked in the fluid around her brain and spine. It was devastating news, and it took us a week to come to terms with the reality, readjust our mindset, and gear up for another battle.
The recurrence was terrifying, signifying a more challenging or stubborn form of cancer. What made it even more difficult was that the cancer cells were active only in her cerebrospinal fluid, making treatment more challenging.
The initial plan was to achieve remission and then proceed to the University of Minnesota for a bone marrow transplant. Unfortunately, her response to treatment was subpar. The treatment primarily involved spinal injections, requiring more chemotherapy drugs than anticipated. To our dismay, her brain started absorbing this toxic concoction, and a few days after pushing the chemotherapy into remission, she fell into a coma. The widespread brain damage led to the hospital abandoning treatment, transitioning to end-of-life care.
The moment I returned home, I was very happy. There had been several critical condition notices from the hospital, and I thought my daughter wouldn’t come back. Yet, here she was, granted only a week’s worth of medication (they didn’t expect her to survive three days). She could spend her final days at home, surrounded by her family and her cats. Every member of our family seemed transformed. The two cats stayed by her side, and I, originally blunt, became unusually meticulous. My elder daughter, April, almost overnight, matured into an adult. To accompany her sister during her final moments, she spent every moment in her sister’s room after school. Simultaneously, we reached out to Dr. Jiang Mingtao. This time, to boost our morale, he sent research results from another Taiwanese doctor—ginsenoside extract—and advised on its usage and dosage. We didn’t reject it, but we didn’t harbor much hope either.
However, every day, we continued diligently recording every detail of Aniya’s condition, especially the frequency and weight of her urination, ensuring not to miss any details. I don’t know why I changed, perhaps it was a mother’s last care for her daughter, or maybe I sought to find some tiny changes to convince myself there was still hope.
As time swiftly passed, a month later, to our surprise, we discovered some changes in Aniya’s urination frequency and weight. These subtle changes were like a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds, offering a glimmer of hope. I recalled an ancient Chinese saying: “Disease comes like a mountain, goes away like silk threads.” Although only subtle changes, they were enough to keep me going.
Throughout this process, our focus remained on Aniya, attempting to uncover every possible sign through meticulous care. In this way, Aniya’s body, in the face of an irreversible illness, exhibited some incredible changes. Perhaps these were just the subtle fluctuations of life’s final moments, but for me, every positive change became a source of strength to persist in guarding her miraculous recovery.
In this sad and protracted journey, I had moments of vulnerability. I attempted suicide by jumping into a river to end it all, but suicide isn’t an easy feat. I didn’t succeed, but I learned how to swim. Upon my return, I regrouped, preparing to create a peaceful and fulfilling end-of-life experience for my daughter. Then she died, and my plan was to follow her into death, a secret plan within my heart.
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