Arrival to the U.S.

There were two flights in my life that left a permanent mark in my heart, one of them being my first time traveling to the United States. I vividly recall looking at the aerial view of the United States for the first time in my life. The splendor of the greenery and the tall buildings from high above was a feast for my eyes. We landed at JFK airport and I felt an overwhelming chill when I stood outside the doors of the airport looking into the streets of New York City. So much was going through my head at that moment, but not nearly as much as my parents who were fully aware of the true purpose of the flight. We went on a two and a half hour drive from JFK airport to Philadelphia and stayed at the Residence Inn Marriott located in the city's downtown for about a week. The next morning, on June 8, 2006, Dalal was taken to the CHOP Oncology Department for an initial standard checkup while the oncologist sat with my parents inquiring about her condition's history and treatment in Saudi Arabia. Beforehand, however, Dalal was looking around the hallways as she was walking and kept stumbling upon the word "cancer". That's when she calmly asked my parents,

"Why are we in this department? Am I sick with cancer?"

"It's not what you think", my father answered, aware of how she thought that cancer is always deadly.

"This is what they call all malignant tumors across their severities, from the very simple and curable to the more complicated ones. What you have is one of the simplest and less severe tumors with a very high cure rate. You're responding excellently to the therapy and on your way towards being cured."

Despite the unsettling feeling both my parents and Dalal had, she took it well and came into terms with her condition. Rather than pessimism, getting cured was where she looked at. Contrary to what my parents experienced in Saudi Arabia, the hospitality and dedication to patients at CHOP was exceptional. Dalal really liked the hospital, especially the spacious and colorfully aesthetic room she was placed in that had its own computer for her entertainment. One of the crucial things when it comes to being hospitalized is how you're treated. The way nurses or doctors look at or talk to you can have tremendous effects on your psychological state as a patient. Thankfully, the nurses at CHOP were very friendly and professional. They always smiled at my sister, consistently ensured her comfort, loved talking to her, and always did their best to mitigate her pain. A couple of weeks later, my father started looking for an apartment to lease since the therapy was going to take at least several months to complete. Eventually, the final choice was left for Dalal. She chose The St. James Apartments located four miles away from the hospital.

We were now settled in Philadelphia and the chemotherapy was set up. After CHOP looked at the protocol she was under in Saudi Arabia, they decided to stick to it as much as possible. With the therapy resuming, the side effects came back. She had nausea and vomiting, loss of appetite, and mouth sores. Every now and then, a sample of her bone marrow or CSF would be extracted. This was done to monitor the cancer and make sure it didn't reach those two areas. The bone marrow produces blood cells, so it is critical to make sure it is free of cancer cells. As for the CSF, it acts as a cushion for the brain and spinal cord. When extracting it, a lumbar puncture must be performed. A long needle is carefully inserted into the spinal canal low in the back (lumbar area). This procedure required that she stayed in the hospital for several days. Since she was in the United States, she got bored from the hospital quickly and was always eager to leave and explore the city. During breaks from her chemotherapy cycles, her favorite activity in the city's downtown was shopping. My father handed her a credit card when we arrived to the States; it made her very happy and gave her a sense independency.

On some occasions, her symptoms and side effects overpowered her during the cycle breaks and she would collapse in pain at home. The few minutes it took the ambulance to get to us were very bitter and felt like an eternity. Despite this, she was still very hopeful, as were we, that she was on her way to get cured and that it was only a matter of time before this was all put behind us. The oncologist decided to progressively reduce the doses of the chemo since there was notable progress. In late January, 2007, it was decided that the VAD was no longer necessary as the heavy doses were now over and she could continue taking the rest of the drugs orally or intravenously. A few days later, on February 2, 2007, the device was finally taken off.

Dalal's resilience was phenomenal; she did her very best to carry on a normal lifestyle despite her health condition. She was able to take her school exams in a Saudi Academy in Washington D.C. to not fall behind on her arabic studies. Furthermore, the both of us were enrolled at McCall Elementary and Middle School in Philadelphia to polish our English language. In my case, this was a major event that had a deep impact which will be discussed later on. When it was time for her to take the exams, we went to Washington D.C. for about a week. To this day, I still vividly remember some of the moments I experienced there. It was our first time seeing heavy snowfall. At the time, my two older brothers were in Saudi Arabia for school; there were only my parents, Dalal, myself and my little brother. The morning after the heavy snow stopped falling, me and my two siblings went outside to play with each other. I stood for a minute taking a look around me, everything was white for as far as I could see. I made my first snowball and playfully threw it at Dalal, and she threw some back at me laughing.

Around that time, Dalal began to regain her health; her hair, including her eyebrows and eyelashes, started growing back and her self-esteem was significantly better. It got to the point where if someone looked at her for the first time, they wouldn't be able to tell that she ever had cancer. This was because in late January, the process of removing the VAD was actually a transition to a maintenance therapy. What I didn't know at the time was that the oncologist officially told my parents that there were no traces of the tumor and that Dalal was in complete remission (tests, physical exams, and scans showed no sign of the cancer). No wonder why Dalal and my parents were exultant. It was safe for the maintenance therapy to continue in Saudi Arabia, so we were already preparing to depart back home after an absence that lasted nine months. Here we were, on February 8, 2007, on the airplane back to Saudi Arabia. While this was a very memorable flight, it wasn't the other flight that left a permanent mark in my heart.

What I remember most vividly from that trip to Saudi Arabia was how we were greeted in our house. The car we were in had pulled up infront of our house around 9pm and I was the first one to ring the doorbell. The front door opens to a large yard. When it was opened, I was the first one to go in but was surprised that the entire house was completely dark. I walked a little bit more and out of suspicion, I yelled "AlSalam Alaykom!" (Peace be upon you). This is how we always greet each other. A few seconds later, all the lights turn bright and I hear around 40 people all at once yelling "Wa Alaykom Alsalam!" (And upon you too). Next, they followed by shouting what translates to "Thank god for your safety Dalloo (Dalal's nickname)." The entire house was decorated and the whole family was gathered along with Dalal's friends. They brought cakes and wore t-shirts with a cute picture of her on them. It was a celebratory night that can never be forgotten.