But then it happened. My grandmother had always been a heavy smoker, and even though I knew it was wrong, I never really thought about trying to stop her. That was just how it was. As I grew older I knew that eventually the cigarettes would catch up to her, but I never let those horrid thoughts cross my mind. One day, while visiting the Phoenix Zoo, my Aunt Kathy began to notice something about my grandma. She was always slightly tan, blonde, and of course her fingernails were yellowing because of the smoking. As we walked around and viewed the animals, I couldn't help but notice. Finally, my mother asked my grandma why her skin looked so yellow. My grandma called it, "jaundice". My mother suddenly made us all leave the zoo and go back to the hotel. I was young, so I didn't quite understand what was happening, but I knew my family looked worried. .
When we got back to the hotel, my grandmother sat us all down and explained that she had pancreatic cancer. That moment is still kind of a blur to me; I repressed those horrible thoughts, but I do remember my whole family crying hysterically. I remember thinking that I knew that soon enough she would be dead, and that I had very little time to spend with her. My grandfather forced my grandmother to go home and go to the hospital because of her dark yellow skin coloring. That night I did endless amounts of research on pancreatic cancer. I learned that people can have the disease living in their body for as long as ten years before even being diagnosed with it. I learned that it's the fourth most common cause of death among people in the United States. I also learned that the ribbon for pancreatic cancer awareness is purple, which made me happy because I knew that purple was my grandma's favorite color. .
Flash forward a few months. My grandma is still in the hospital, I'm still crying and my obnoxious cousin is still trying to get my sister to do gymnastic down the hospital hall.
