I was lucky enough to get a second chance at life, a profound gift that I will always be thankful for, and this is why I do believe in getting second chances. I had just had my son, and at age 20, I was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, cancer, at stage 3B. Since I was diagnosed at such an advanced stage, I had to begin intense chemotherapy treatments immediately. My doctor looked at me and said that if I did not begin as soon as possible, I would not see my son’s first birthday. I knew right then and there I was being handed a second chance, and still to this day, four years later, I can hear the seriousness in my doctor’s voice, and feel the fear down deep in my heart. I went through a whole week of surgeries and tests to get me ready for the battle ahead of me, and after everything I had this small, blue eyed guy silently cheering me on, and depending on me as much as I depended on him.

I went through six months of the chemotherapy treatments, and then immediately went through two months of intense radiation treatments. There were days where I had to drag myself from bed to feed my son, my body was so weak that I often wanted to bawl and cover my head with my blankets. My son would smile at me, now knowing that there was anything different about his world, and that smile is what cheered me on when I had my brother shave my head, when I was hooked up to the IV every week, even when I felt like I was the ugliest person on the face of the planet. To him, I was beautiful, I was his mommy, and I was the greatest person in the world. He helped to fill me with the confidence and strength that I needed to walk through the hospital doors and face the needle every day.

Two weeks before my son’s first birthday, I was told that my cancer was in remission, and that I had done it. I had beaten the beast which threatened my life and offered a second chance. I made the decision then to go back to school, so that I could guarantee my son and I a good life. His father was not in the picture, so I knew that I could no longer be the weak, scared woman that I was before. I had to be bold and face the future with my head held high and my eyes set on my goals ahead. I began classes at one of the community colleges in the area, and one of my teachers there asked me why, with my brains, I was not looking at attaining a higher degree. I thought that because of my status as parent, it was physically impossible to do such a thing. But, I found a way.

I am now a junior at Viterbo University, getting my Natural Science degree, and I am looking forward to graduating and being accepted into the University of Florida’s Masters of Forensic Science program. I am taking classes that I adore for a career that excites me, my son has developed a love of books from constantly seeing me with one, and, although he was recently diagnosed with Autism, continues to make strides forward, beating down his own diagnosis the same way I did cancer.

I know that second chances are sometimes considered to be for the weak of heart, that only the strong make it through without getting a scratch on them. But if it were not for my second chance, I would not be where I am today: In an institution of higher learning, helping to mold a bright future for Alexzander and I. Without a second chance, I would not have been around to see my son grow up into the man he will one day become, and get to see the accomplishments that he has. Now, I take advantage of every day and squeeze every ounce of life and fun I can out of it. I have become more outgoing, and also less afraid of falling in love and getting hurt.

Finally, for the question “Is there an extent to how bad of an act you do before no second chances?”, I have to say that I don’t think there is. Considering how much of an impact my second chance had on me, I really do not think that if someone was given a genuine second chance, that they would go back to acting in horrific ways. Yes, some people are wired to do bad things, and nothing can change that, so they would be my only exception. But otherwise, a second chance should, and usually is, seen as a gift that nothing in this world is like.