Diary of a girl with cancer. The dead girl kept a diary for a year, saving children. Forty hours in a coma

The previous couple of months I had no time for writing posts in LiveJournal. And not to work. We had to quickly decide what to do.
Now, when I have already given myself up to the doctors of the Lisod private clinic near Kyiv, I have time for both.
With my work, I at least partially recoup the money spent on exorbitant (for Ukraine) price lists of the clinic.
For the first time in my life, I literally "work for a pharmacy." You have to work for three months. Minimum. The poor are not treated here. An ordinary Ukrainian needs to spend about 50 of his salaries on treatment.
Well, I decided to quietly start writing about this nonsense that suddenly happened to me.
I will write spontaneously, randomly.

I will begin by describing the small and large reasons that could bring me to the current state.
In other words, what I did wrong and what I will never do again.

1. For years, decades, went to bed at 1-2-3 in the morning. Now I go to bed at 22-23. Melatonin is produced at night.
2. Not eating everything. I haven't eaten pork lately. But he ate beef, chicken legs baked in the oven, drank milk, ate sour cream (though not fatty), drank beer, ate squid, sometimes drank gin and tonic and quite often dry red wine. Ate very few vegetables. Ate a lot of fruit. I drank coffee 4 cups a day with sugar. Tea with sugar. Porridge with sugar. Compote with sugar. Cancer cells are very fond of sugar, glucose.
3. After my mother died, I ate from cooking for 4 years. Who knows on what they all fried there? Ate canned food. I drank juices with sugar from packages.
4. Sedentary work. Exercise once every two to three weeks. When it blows. After I bought the car, I started walking a little. Before that, he often walked 10 kilometers a day. Breathed little oxygen. Although more than many others - during wheelchairs. Cancer cells do not like oxygen.
5. I was nervous a lot, there was a lot of stress. 2010 - mother dies. 2011 - I break my leg. 2012 - the eldest son dies. 2013 - father dies. 2013 - the first wife, who for 20 years did not want to hear anything about her eldest son with schizophrenia, is trying to sue part of our apartment with him. 2014 - events and war in Ukraine, concern for his native city. 2015 - unexpected problems with pressure and heart. In many ways, he blamed himself for the premature death of his relatives - he did not foresee everything, did not do everything for them.
I worried a lot about trifles - currency exchange, some minor losses, etc.
6. Washed dishes with detergents.
7. Shortly before that, he pollinated his son's grave, which was not cared for by that same ex-wife, with herbicides from weeds, knowing full well that they are carcinogenic.
8. Constantly drank coffee or tea in a state of boiling water, allowing frequent burns of the mucosa up to peeling skin.
9. Never turned off Wi-Fi in the apartment. Well, that's it. Turn it off, don't turn it off, the neighbors will irradiate.

Maybe I'll remember.
And the number one reason is my hectic sex life in my youth and after my second divorce. Cancer is caused by the human papillomavirus PH16, which is transmitted exclusively through sexual contact, including oral contact, and is not excreted from the body.

For now, everything is short.

Hello dear diary. I am 16 years old and my name is Eva, this diary was given to me by my mother, in the hope that it will brighten up loneliness. Ha ha ha, naive. Why loneliness? Yes, because I'm sick. Diagnosis: Acute lymphoblastic leukemia, if it is simpler, then cancer. This cross was put on my life when I was still quite unintelligent, at the age of 12. Then I thought that everything would pass, everything would be fine. Now I understand for sure that nothing will pass, it remains only to die quietly. Parents are perplexed why I do not want to communicate with anyone, whose younger sister, 8 years old, once came up and asked me: - When you die, can I take your room? - I stood and looked at her with stunned eyes, and she stood as if nothing had happened and smiled. She is small, she understands everything, she understands that I will die. And my parents do not understand, or simply do not want to believe in my slow death. Indeed, why believe that your child is dying. I would like to be euthanized like a dog. But no, alas and ah. 4 years ago... - Evochka, didn't you fall? Why do you keep bruising? Does someone hit you at school? Do you fight boys? Eva, why are you silent? Ann complained. - Mom, but I definitely didn’t fall, I couldn’t fall so that the bruise was on my neck. - then I did not understand what was happening. Dad was the first to sound the alarm, he noticed the first symptoms, the bruises were still flowers, then in two weeks I lost about 10 pounds *, then it got worse, nosebleeds, the temperature was above normal. ************* Then, for the first time, I learned what oncology is, a terrible word. We came to the clinic, I don't remember which one. There I was immediately sent to the doctor. I remember he was kind, bald, but with a mustache. I asked the first question: - Am I going to die? - Well, first of all, hello, and secondly, 80% of children are cured. - answered Dr. Neil (as his name and photo badge said). - The remaining 20% ​​die. What if I am one of them? - I asked a question that concerns everyone in this room. Parents sat in silence, mother cried, father squeezed her hand, whispering something softly. They gave me the opportunity to figure it out myself. For this I respect them. - Listen, girl, I will do everything so that you do not die. I guarantee you that if you stick to the rules, you will be healthy. It's like in a computer game, you and me, against an army of harmful cells, so what? Are we starting the game? The doctor held out his hand to me and winked. After a little hesitation, and after hesitating, I shook his hand: - Yes, I'm sure our army will win, if it's not, then you will shave off your mustache, okay? - Coming, Captain Eve! we both laughed. Mom smiled through her tears. - And now we must take a little bit of bone marrow from you for analysis, will you let us win the first level? - Can I refuse? Just... won't it hurt? I asked. - Pfft, you'll sleep. retorted the doctor. I finally calmed down, then I believed that everything would be fine and rosy. Ah, how wrong I was! ************* My last memory of this day was that I was lying on the operating table, my mother was holding my hand, around the wiring, needles, and then I fell asleep ... Today. .. Mom was crying again in her room, dad is still holding on, my sister, as always, is playing somewhere in her room, but I know that she also cries at night. Why am I such a bad daughter? Why can't I get better?! Dr. Neil still thinks that he can cure me, although he probably understands somewhere in the back of his subconscious that I can no longer be saved. I want to die myself. Today I was even worse than usual, I don't want to eat, drink, walk, lie down, sit, talk... I DON'T WANT ANYTHING AT ALL. Also how to die. 4 years ago... - Well, here is your room, come in, make yourself comfortable, make yourself at home. - the nurse shows me my room, and I roar, not in front of my eyes, no, in my soul I roar. In my heart I understand that one operation after one will follow. Having sorted things out, I was unable to do anything, fell on the bed, she responded with a drawn-out creak. I did not cry, as far as I remember, I never cried during my illness. Perhaps only in my soul, in my soul I roared every day, every hour, every minute. Only during the remission I did not cry. The first remission was after a block of chemotherapy. The first block, the first remission, the first hope for recovery. Chemistry, as they call it in the hospital, was easy for me, they said that I had a strong body, that I would get better. *************** I just smiled back, I didn't know what to say. In all 4 years, I've had about 5 blocks of chemotherapy, or more...or less. I did not count. Today... The day before yesterday I ended my remission. It lasted exactly one and a half months. During these month and a half, I managed quite a bit, I only managed to learn how to kiss. Kent, we met him in the same hospital, he's very good, he was... he died. A week ago, he had the same diagnosis, he was 18. We understood that sooner or later we would die, he died first. We both knew that we were dying, both knew that there was a last love. Both did not want to die virgins. But he died, having done everything he wanted. I stayed. Today I told my parents to bury me next to him, and in a white dress, but without a wig, let everyone know what I died of. Mom burst into tears, dad just shook his head in despair. I know it's only going to get worse. Remissions are getting shorter and shorter, and then I just die, that's all. THE END. * 10 pounds - about 5.5 kg.

It has been almost a year since 27-year-old Holly Butcher passed away in Australia - the girl died of a rare form of cancer. The day before, she published a letter on Facebook addressed to the whole world. The touching message of the girl cannot leave indifferent even the most seasoned skeptic. More than 180 thousand people shared it.

The girl admitted that the disease made her learn to appreciate every day and every minute spent with family and friends. We publish excerpts from the letter because everyone should read it.

Holly Butcher lived in Grafton, New South Wales (Australia) and died of Ewing's sarcoma, a rare form of cancer that mostly affects young people. She fought a serious illness for a whole year, but she did not manage to win. Now her latest post has become a viral sensation all over the world. Her simple and wise words resonate with thousands of hearts.

Some life advice from Holly.

It is very strange to realize and accept your mortality when you are only 26 years old. Usually people at this age simply ignore the fact of death. Days pass by, and it seems that it will always be like this, until the unexpected happens. I always imagined that one day I would be old, gray and wrinkled, that I would have a wonderful family (with a lot of children) that I planned to build with the love of my life. I still want it so badly that it hurts.

The main thing about life: it is fragile, precious and unpredictable. And every new day is a gift, not a given.

Now I'm 27. I don't want to die. I love my life. I am happy… This is the merit of my loved ones. But I don't decide anymore.

I am not writing this “suicide note” to make you afraid of death - I like that we are practically unaware of its inevitability ... I want to talk about death, because it is treated as a taboo, as something that never happens to anyone. True, it's pretty hard. I just want people to stop worrying about the small, insignificant troubles in their lives and try to remember that the same fate awaits us all. It is better to make your life worthy and good, and discard all nonsense.

I've put a lot of thoughts down below because I've had time to think in recent months. Of course, all these random thoughts most often climb into the head in the middle of the night!

When you feel like whining about stupid things (I've been seeing this more and more in the last couple of months), just think of someone who's really in trouble right now. Say thank you that your "problem" is actually a minor complication, and don't worry. It is clear that some things get you, but do not get hung up on them and spoil the mood of everyone around you.

Now go outside, take a deep breath of the fresh Australian air, see how blue the sky is and how green the trees are, how beautiful everything is (in Australia it is now the height of summer. - Approx. Site). Think how lucky you are to be able to just breathe.

Maybe today you are stuck in a traffic jam, have not slept well because the child did not let you close your eyes. Maybe the hairdresser cut your hair too short or your false nails broke off. Maybe your breasts are too small or cellulite has appeared, and your tummy has become larger than you would like.

Kill it. I guarantee you, when it's your turn to leave, you won't even remember all these things. They will seem SO small when you take a last look at your life. I watch my body stop working before my eyes and there is nothing I can do about it. I just want to celebrate another birthday or Christmas with my family, spend another day with my loved one and dog. Just another day.

I listen to people complaining about the job they hate, how hard it is to force yourself to go to the gym - be thankful you can go there at all. Opportunities to work and play sports seem so mundane... until your body forces you to give them up.

I tried to lead a healthy life - perhaps that was my main goal. Appreciate your health and working body, even if it is not in perfect shape. Take care of him and admire him. Look at it and be glad how wonderful it is. Get moving and treat him to good food. And don't worry about it.

Remember that good health is not only about the physical shell. Work just as hard to find mental, emotional, and spiritual happiness. So maybe you will understand how unimportant and insignificant it is - whether you have this idiotic "ideal" body that is imposed on us by social media or not. By the way, while we're on the subject, unfollow all social media accounts that make you feel disgusted with yourself. Even from friends... Relentlessly defend your right to well-being.

Be thankful for every day without pain, and even for the days when you lie at home with a cold, hold on to an aching back or a sprained ankle. Accept it, but be glad that this pain is not life threatening and will pass.

Whine less people! And help each other more.

Give more! The truth is that it is much more enjoyable to do something for others than for yourself. I regret not doing enough. Since I got sick, I have met incredibly kind and selfless people, received many of the warmest and most caring words and actions from relatives, friends and strangers. Much more than I could give back. I will never forget this and will be eternally grateful to all these people.

It's a strange feeling when you still have unspent money at the end ... and you will soon die. At a time like this, you won't go shopping for some material things like you used to, like a new dress. You can't help thinking how stupid it is that we spend so much money on new clothes and other "things".

Instead of another dress, cosmetics or some trinkets, it is better to buy something wonderful for your friends. First, no one cares if you wear the same thing twice. Second: from this you get incredible sensations. Invite friends over for dinner - or better yet, cook for them yourself. Bring them coffee. Give them a plant, give them a massage, or buy them a pretty candle and tell them you love them when you give them a gift.

Appreciate other people's time. Don't make others wait because of your lack of punctuality. If you're always late, start getting ready early and realize that your friends want to hang out with you instead of sitting around waiting for you to show up. You will only be respected for this! Amen, sisters!

This year we agreed to do without gifts, and although the Christmas tree looked rather sad, it was still great. Because people did not spend time shopping, but more thoughtfully approached the choice or creation of postcards. Plus, imagine how my family is trying to choose a gift for me, knowing that, most likely, it will remain the same ... It may seem strange, but ordinary cards mean more to me than any impulsive purchases. Of course, it was easier for us to do this - there are no small children in the house. But in any case, the moral of this story is that gifts are not needed for a full-fledged Christmas. Let's go further.

Spend money on experiences. Or at least don't leave yourself without feelings, spending all your money on material rubbish.

Get serious about any trip, even a trip to the beach nearby. Dip your feet in the sea, feel the sand between your toes. Wash with salt water. Be more often in nature.

Try to just enjoy the moment instead of trying to capture it with your camera or smartphone. Life is not meant to be lived on screen, and it's not meant to be the perfect photo... enjoy the fucking moment! No need to try to capture it for everyone else.

Rhetorical question. Are those few hours spent on hair and makeup every day really worth it? I never understood this in women.

Wake up early sometimes and listen to the birds singing while admiring the beautiful colors of the rising sun.

Listen to music... really listen. Music is therapy. The best is the old one.

Play with your dog. In the next world, I will miss this.

Talk to friends. Put your phone away. They are fine?

Travel if you feel like it. If not, don't travel.

Work to live, don't live to work.

Seriously, do what makes you happy.

Eat some cake. And don't beat yourself up about it.

Say "no" to everything you don't want to do.

There is no need to follow other people's ideas about what a "full life" is ... Maybe you want an ordinary life for yourself - there is nothing wrong with that.

Tell your loved ones that you love them as often as possible and love them with all your might.

Remember that if something makes you an unhappy person, it is in your power to change it - be it in work, love or in something else. Have the courage to change it. You don't know how much time you have in this life, don't waste it being unhappy. I know you've heard this a hundred times, but it's the purest truth.

And in any case, these are just the lessons of the life of one girl. Accept them...or not - I don't mind!

Oh, and one more thing! If you can, do a good deed for humanity (and me) - start donating blood regularly. You will feel good and the lives saved are a nice bonus. Each blood donation can save three lives! Anyone can do it and it takes so little effort!

Donating blood helped me get through an extra year. A year with my family, friends and dog. The year in which I lived my best moments. A year for which I will forever be grateful...

…until we meet again.

While 8-year-old Yulia was touchingly and in detail describing her daily struggle with death and oncology on a Russian website, her parents in America published photos of her funeral and grave.

Thousands of people prayed and wept over this soul-tearing chronicle. Excerpts from the diary were dismantled for charity sites. Her photos and drawings were stored in the computers of parents who lost their children due to oncology, and unrequited love was poured out on this still living child.

Little Yulia is a thin ray of sunshine with wheaten, now and then crawling out from chemistry, hair and sky-clear eyes. She taught terminally ill children not to give up, and adults - not to consider the remaining days of the kids "meaningless." After reading, many went to hospitals and helped difficult children survive. And only now it turned out that the baby, for whom everyone prayed, to whom they gave teddy bears, and with whom they corresponded with touching letters, has long been dead ...

That same real Julia is an American cancer patient. This picture, like many others, Lena posted on her blog.

Forty hours in a coma

It all started in the spring of 2005, with a request on the Internet: “I ask for prayers for Yulenka (7 years old). She fell ill in 2001, neuroblastoma - stage 4. Operations, resuscitation, blood poisoning... Now the 18th month of remission. Leg hurts. God forbid, a relapse ... Very scary.

Written by 17-year-old Lena Varezhkina, Yulia's older sister. Of course, hundreds of people responded to the request. It turned out that the Varezhkins are from Astrakhan, Yulenka is being treated in America. At home, in Russia is rare. She is so charming that she immediately falls in love with everyone. Despite a terrible illness, he is engaged in ballet, draws ...

Lena, a medical student, has always been very competent in describing the symptoms and procedures that her younger sister has to endure. Her condition either improved, then she “hung” on the verge of death, forcing readers to cry and look at the Internet every minute: “how is Yulia doing?”. It was especially scary when the older sister single-handedly looked after the younger in America, and the parents, due to the paperwork, could not come to the rescue. Then Lena wrote:

“... Last night, cerebral edema developed, convulsions, then clinical death. Yulia has been in a coma for more than 40 hours. Doctors say there is almost no chance. Pray, I beg you!

... At night, after 17 minutes of cardiac arrest, the doctors said they were powerless ... I do not believe it.

… I won’t be coming down from intensive care anymore, so there may not be news for a long time…

Yulenka came out of a coma! I ran to get her favorite purple hippopotamus. Thanks to everyone who prayed!”

By the time Yulia came out of a coma, a whole army of her “fans” had grown on the site. People not only prayed, but also offered help... But the Varezhkins always refused: "The sponsor pays for all the treatment."

“Who has the right to decide whose life is more important?”

Soon the main action flowed into Yulia's virtual diary. Grateful to everyone for the support, the girl, in a childish way, a little clumsily, but in an adult way, wisely tells how a child with cancer lives:

“... I almost feel good after the operation. But I have not yet become a normal color.

…Some say that many children could be cured with the money that pays for me. I don't know what to say to these people. Now it is clear that I will not recover. Perhaps this money would give life to someone, but they will only prolong me. But does anyone have the right to decide whose life is more important?

And so one and a half thousand records. With talented drawings and photos freezing right in the heart. With stories about the indifference of our society that Yulia faces when she returns to Astrakhan. About the clinic where they refused to hospitalize the girl because she arrived without medical documents: “The real reason is the severity of the condition, they don’t want to take responsibility.” Bitter memories of how the little girl was not allowed to perform at the reporting concert of the music school, because her bald head "would ruin the front view." In general, a painful, but usual, repeating story of all Russian cancer patients from time to time.

And completely different recordings from America, where at the performance of the ballet group Yulina's shaved head is tied with a lace ribbon and placed in the center. Where the whole class in which she studies, out of solidarity, comes to school in hats ...

Saved by lies

Gradually, Yulin's diary became famous. And it's not that the life of this terminally ill girl was somehow different from tens of thousands of others. On the contrary, Julia wrote on the most simple and common topics among sick children. But others were crying about them and were gloomy silent, and Yulia was TELLING! People were imbued - new benefactors were born. And since Yulia herself did not need help, those who fell in love with her tried to help others.

Sister Lena also firmly entered the circle of benefactors. Everyone trusted and sympathized with the fragile 17-year-old girl who bears such a responsibility! Moreover, then Lena admitted that she herself also had cancer, and her dad. But she never asked for anything, and never took. Only small gifts for Yulia, not money! And everyone admired her selflessness.

But Lena asked for help for her patrons from the children's Astrakhan hospital: “There are no toys, an iron, a kettle in the oncology department ... And most importantly, not a single infusion pump (a device that dispenses medicine) and mothers are forced to count drops for days ... ". This is Lena's first successful good deed. Then she reached out to the funds, they bought expensive equipment and equipment for the clinic.

Inspired by good luck, Lena took patronage over a sick orphanage baby. True, this boy did not live long. Died. Then Lena had a severe bout of depression. Parents remember how the girl spent more than six months staring at the computer. She almost did not leave the house, she only typed ... It was then, in the second half of 2006 - early 2007, that the famous "8-year-old Julia dying of cancer" was especially active in her diary.

Lena made attempts to "kill her younger sister", but could not ...

At the same time, the real Julia was living out her last days - a real 8-year-old American woman with cancer and writing a diary on the Internet. Her notes did not contain the terrible Russian realities that were mentioned in the diary of the Russian Yulia. But everything else - diagnoses, procedures, operations, as well as drawings, good stories with ballet and schoolgirls in solidarity - everything was there. And most importantly, the photos in both diaries were the same. That's just the American Julia died in September 2006, and the Russian continued to "live."

To support cancer patients, beauty queens visit them in American clinics. In the photo: Julia and "Miss America 2006" Jennifer Berry.

Of course, there is no mysticism. The Russian Julia from beginning to end was invented by the "big sister" Lena, and the photos were taken from the site of the deceased girl.

Then she obviously made several attempts to “kill” her younger sister, volunteers recall. - “Julia”, almost “died”. But then Lena received dozens of letters, talked on the phone for hours and ... left Yulia "to live." Apparently because she got what she was looking for - sympathy, consolation and love.

The truth came out only in the summer of 2007. Someone found the diary of an American woman and sent a link to the main participants in the "saving of the Russian Yulia." They began to check ... Nobody wanted to believe that for two years Lena led everyone by the nose. But, as soon as the girl was hinted that the deception had been revealed, she went into a "deep defense".

You bring Julia with your suspicions! Lena cried. - She refuses to write a diary and will die because of you ...

Nobody wanted "blood", but the information spread like cockroaches. The last recording of Yulia was made in early August. Scandal on the Internet erupted only a couple of weeks ago. Volunteers realized that omissions can "spawn monsters", and decided to tell everything as it is.

What started here! Thousands of people, cruelly deceived with a "good purpose" fell on the heads of the volunteers who had ever quoted Yulia and Lena herself, "the ninth wave." Those who were friends with the deceiver were immediately called a "gang".

The deception succeeded only because it was disinterested! - philanthropists fought back. - If Lena had ever tried to raise money for Yulia, she would have been revealed at the first check of documents!

They remembered all the times when Lena asked anyone for financial assistance. She was accused of "fraud", "theft of someone else's life" and that she forever undermined people's faith in goodness. Those who had just prayed for the “Varezhkin girls” began to curse Lena and even threatened:

“... asked to pray for health? Now let him ask to pray for repose"

... Orphaned parents came to Yulia in the diary and prayed for this child as for their lost daughter. And they were deceived! It's far worse than stealing money."

There were also those who sighed with relief: “Thank God, as it turned out, there is one less child tormented by pain ...”. But these voices were drowned in a flood of accusations.

She broke down when she found out how much more unhappy our children are than American ones?

I met Lena and we talked all night. Thin, closed, at 19 - a cornered teenager. Before the meeting, I had already found out a lot, and I was fully armed - I was afraid that I would start lying again. Frightened by accusations of stealing money, Lena spoke little, but told the truth.

Len, why did you come up with Yulia? Alone? Would you like to help others?

I don't know - eyes on the floor.

Mom and dad don't love you?

It turned out that both the girl herself and her father, thank God, are healthy. Lena's mother told about it. Only the children whom Lena really helped are really sick. The collected money really went to the clinic (doctors confirm, the accounts are checked), and to the ward of a sick boy. Lena also gave the gifts given to Yulia to the hospital.

And also, comparing all the data, I found out that it all started with a girl with the same name as the fictitious “little sister”. She was treated in St. Petersburg, and Lena constantly read about her on the Internet. She also asked me to pray for the patient. Then Lena was only 15 years old. Unable to help this little girl (the Varezhkins lived in Astrakhan), Lena started running around to help the local oncology hospital. But the baby died.

And Lena was looking for everything on the websites of foreign clinics, what else could be done for her, but not done? And I found: medicines that we still do not certify in any way; procedures and devices that our clinics cannot afford; people - sympathetic, not shying away from sick children ...

During these searches, I stumbled upon the site of the American Julia. I envied and decided to create my own "Julia", instead of the one that died in St. Petersburg. As happy as the American, only Russian. To create and “do” for her everything that cannot be done for Russian children. And to show everyone by her example how much harder it is for our sick children than for the "foreign" ones ... And that dead boy, whom Lena did not manage to save, was the last straw. She finally broke down and, perhaps, she herself believed in the existence of her sister. At least now she continues to lie to the volunteers that Yulia is still alive ...