Aloha Is Forever

Honokaa, Hawaii is a place of wonder and beauty. During a beautiful day on June 13th 2008, a 21 year old Hawaiian girl, was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Later that day I received a phone call from Dad telling me that the results came back. She has cancer. Her name is Leihua Oliveros, and she is my cousin. Living with a cancer patient for a family member is something I could never wish on anyone. But in the last year I have learned more about life and acceptance then I have ever have before.

After hanging up with Dad I learned what Aunt Lori was not telling us. Finding out that Leihua would often black out and go blind for minutes on end was terrifying. But knowing the reason was even worse. Aunt Lori explained to us that the tumor was pushing too hard on her brain, cutting off the nerves at times. The understanding of what was going on, did not hit me until later that day-when Leihua called me. She talked as if nothing was wrong, happy and excited about going to Kona that next week. The only thing I felt that I could do was mumble an apology, “I have to go Leihua. Aloha is forever.”

For the next two weeks I would not pick up any calls from her. I spent those two weeks praying to God, asking Him to please heal her. I was mad at Him! I would ask, how could He allow this cancer to form in my sweet cousin? It was not until a friend of mine told me “God has a plan for each of his children. Maybe Leihua’s is to teach you about life, and not taking it for granted.” When he told me that, all I could do was stare at him as tears rolled down my face. Only one word escaped me, “Why?” All he did was pull me into his arms while I cried for the first time since hearing the news. That next day I called her and talked about the new things in her life. It took another week before I was able to mention the tumor to her though. I had to learn to accept the unchangeable and to believe in my faith again.

A rushed cry was heard after picking up the phone that next month. The voice on the other line was Aunt Lori telling us that a doctor in Maui, told her to get Leihua off the Islands. Flying to different islands every couple of days was not a healthy thing for Leihua, he told her. With no place on the Big Island to go for Leihua’s medical needs, it was not a safe option to stay there. At first I did not understand why Aunt Lori was panicking over moving to the mainland, but when she reminded me of the culture of Hawaii I understood. In Hawaii it is more about living in the now then the later. Meaning Leihua and her biological family were not going to take the brain tumor seriously, nor will they be willing to let Leihua move off the Islands. The fear of the consequences of Leihua not moving to the mainland were terrifying. It was not until the doctor in Maui explained to Leihua’s biological family that she will die, and fast- if she stayed there. With their blessing Aunt Lori book seats on the next plane leaving Hawaii.

We had one week to get ready. One week to sanitize the whole house so when Leihua’s immune system shut down, she would at least be safe in the house. We had to move bedrooms around so Leihua could have a separate bathroom and bedroom. When Dad told us that we had to give up our bathroom for Leihua, we were not too happy about the situation. It only took a week of Leihua using the bathroom to make us understand Dad’s wise decision. When Leihua and Aunt Lori arrived in Arizona, Leihua did not know anyone other then us. Which meant we became her constant companions. When Leihua wished to go somewhere it was my job to take her out to do it. In Leihua’s mind she was in an unknown place with a totally different culture. It was not that I minded spending time with her, it was feeling as if I had no time for myself.

The hardest thing to do is putting a smile on, when all you want to do is curl up in a ball and cry. As soon as Aunt Lori had a chance she pulled us aside to tell us to hide all bad thoughts from Leihua. We were to “keep our smiles on,” and live with the faith that Leihua’s tumor would shrink. Aunt Lori told us to, “smile when we wished to frown, and laugh when we wished to cry.” I found myself laughing a lot as Leihua’s health started to deteriorate in front of my eyes. The dizzy spells were more often now, and the numbness of the face was starting. The doctors told us that the numbness and the difficulty breathing is normal after radiation and steroids. But we still lived in fear when we could hear her breathing heavy a room away. The breathing was so bad that someone had to be with her at all times and sleep with her, just to make sure her brain would keep the breathing process happening. When Leihua started the radiation her doctors put her on steroids that made her gain an substantial amount of weight.

Watching her body change from a size 0 to 16 in such a small time was really scary. The late night talks with her crying because she did not feel like the Leihua she has always been. On top of the weight gain, she started to lose her long beautiful black hair. I thought she was upset over the weight gain, but this just threw her off. In Hawaii long hair is a major factor in the culture, and her hair was her pride and joy. Watching her cry when she held that clump of hair in her hand was something I can never forget. Her hands shook as tear after tear rolled down her face. Aunt Lori could not take another morning of watching that, so before Leihua woke up every morning I would find Aunt Lori picking up the lost hairs off the pillows.

As the calendar pages turned many things changed. Her hair started to grow back, which was a blessing in disguise because she would lose something just as important to her only days later. Leihua lost the ability to speak, barley able to breathe at times. She was heartbroken over this, after watching her struggle with writing everything down on paper we came up with something better. With the help of Leihua we made our own sign language, to help her with the basic words like eat, bathroom, sleep and etc. When we would go out, which rarely happened anymore, we became her voice because no one else could understand her. Leihua and I enjoyed our talks over ‘sign language,’ mostly because we were just messing around and making it up as we went. After losing her voice, the knees started to go out. If she did decide to use the walker, I always had to be one step behind her to catch her when she fell. Losing the ability to walk on her own, she became wheelchair bound. After my high school graduation, Leihua struggled to stand up from her chair, gave me a hug and said, “Aloha is forever. ” Hugging her, letting myself cry over the fact God allowed her to be there while I graduated, the joy I felt was indefinable. In May the doctors did not have much hope for us with Leihua’s health. Telling us to make her comfortable and have her enjoy life as much as possible. When the doctors lost hope, I went back to God.

In August everything started to change, it was like our prayers were starting to get answered. After watching and participating in Leihua’s physical therapy she seemed to be gaining strength in her legs again. Much like the excitement when a toddler takes his first steps, that is how we were when Leihua surprised us with standing up from her chair. Taking three steps forward before she asked for the chair, was an amazing feat for her. All the month of August, she took step after step wanting only to be able to walk around the house without her chair. The walking was not the only thing that happened though, her speech became more understandable. Hearing her laugh without shortness of breath after so long was an amazing sound to hear. The aloha that surrounded that room when we realized Leihua was getting stronger was amazing.

September 16th Leihua started to complain that her stomach was hurting. We just figured that she had to much of her sticky rice again. After awhile, they called Aunt Lori home to check on Leihua. She quickly determined that they needed to get her checked out, and it needed to be done now! While she was in the hospital I was in classes, but this was honestly nothing new to me. I just figured she would be home in a couple days, and that would be that. Being a cancer patient, she went to the hospital if she had a basic nose bleed for goodness sake! I received a call from Dad telling me that Leihua was being transported to the ICU because they found “something.” I knew the news was nothing good, but I figured more pills would be given, then she would be better.

Morning of September 17th I was just finishing up with my math class, when I opened a text from Dad reading, “CALL ME ASAP!” I knew from that alone it was bad news. I called him and he answered the phone crying. He told me that she was not going to make it passed the afternoon. I ran down the flight of stairs, tears smeared a crossed my face. I jumped into my car, and drove to the hospital. Within minutes I was running into the hospital, asking for Leihua Oliveros room. I ran into the room, where I was embraced by Aunt Lori. I looked over her shoulder to see Leihua. Seeing her laying on the bed, totally flat, breathing only because of the equipment by the bed- was shocking. Aunt Lori explained that Leihua was unconscious, but believed she could still hear everything going on. By 1pm, after calling all Leihua’s biological family we determined that we had to let her go.

At 3pm, we had the phones on speaker so family in Hawaii could be with us. As we were all holding onto her, they unplugged all the equipment. I still cannot believe I had enough strength for what came next. Leihua seemed as if she was waking up- lifting her arms to Aunt Lori before she took one last short breath. Her fingers immediately turned cold, as her bright black eyes became a dull gray. I stayed there for another hour before I could walk away from my cousin. When I walked away I knew that her tumor was gone, and her body healed, all while holding hands with God- and that brought me peace. I know I will never forget what Leihua brought us, the things she taught me and the joy she brought to everyone she met. Aloha truly is forever.