Battle with disease defines hero
Campus Times
September 17, 1999
Heroes have constantly been portrayed, in my life as the unselfish martyrs,
the civil and human rights leaders, the best friends and the ever-so-loving
parents.
It was not until recently, however, that I discovered my truest hero
-- a heroine -- was a teenager who stood little more than 4'11" tall
and battled an illness with the strength of Hercules and Zeus together.
Stephana Kristine Griffith had been plagued with cystic fibrosis (CF)
since her birth on Nov. 7, 1983.
CF is a rare malady that primarily affects the respiratory and digestive
systems of its victims. Prior to the success of current medicinal aids,
most CF patients were not expected to survive past their adolescence or
early adulthood.
Nevertheless, Stephana sought to prove the statistics wrong; she would
not give in to neither the fact that she was ill nor that she might not
live forever. She wanted to be treated and respected like any other person
-- because she, too, was human -- and she refused to be singled out as "the
girl with CF."
But Stephana was special; it was almost impossible for me to rule out
such thoughts. She was different from most girls her age, and, after gaining
some knowledge of the disease and reading about the life of one of its youngest
victims, Stephana was the first CF patient I have ever met and befriended.
That was not even the issue at hand. Stephana amazed me ... not because
of her disease, but because of who she became as a result of the ailment
that slowly took her life away.
In the small frame this 15-year-old proudly filled, Stephana was unbreakable
and incredible.
Whenever she experienced severe coughing attacks that are all too common
for CF patients, she would simply sit down or stand away from those staring
at her. She would cough as much as was necessary, just in time to regain
her composure and become herself, the fighter, again.
If a friend or relative playfully joked with her, Stephana quickly came
back with, "Bite me!" or some other remark. She never let her
guard down-never.
Nothing but her own will could stop her; and, in the end, it was that
same strength that only made her weaker and more fragile. She had been fighting
for so many years and through innumerable "bad days," that admitting
she was sick was like giving in and asking for help.
Stephana spent a few months in and out of the hospital, surrounded by
beeping life support devices during each stay.
And she continued fighting, until the very end on June 10 this year.
Stephana gave up the fight on her own, as if to prevent anyone else from
having to endure the pain of helping her give up.
After all, she never wanted anyone to worry about her. She was a wholesome
blessing beyond her last breath.
It has been little more than three months since Stephana's death, and
everyday, if only for a minute, she is a thought in my mind and heart.
I never imagined I would come to envy someone who was so much smaller
and so much younger than me.
Stephana may never be recognized in any world history book, in any intellectual's
college lecture or by many religious figures. She was not an environmentalist,
humanitarian or parent.
Nevertheless, as a fighter, she became a martyr. Stephana was one of
the most courageous people I knew, and it was a privilege to know her.
She was born a blessing, lived life as a fighter and is now remembered
as a hero.
Araceli Esparza, a senior journalism major, is editor in chief of
the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at esparzaa@ulv.edu.
