A Liberty Bell of Cancer; For Some, Freedom Waits

Olivia Sergot rang a bell.

It struck louder for her than any other bell, or any other sound, ever had. Although this bell rang at the same frequency, the same amplitude, and the same speed as any other standard bell, 17-year-old Olivia heard it with every ounce of her being.

It wasn’t wedding bells signifying young love; it wasn’t church bells representing the untouchable joys of a white-blanketed Christmas morning. Rather, this bell promised freedom -- freedom from the tumor that once inhabited her kidney and her spirit.

As the untarnished golden bell rang in December of 2019, a beautifully tarnished Olivia was officially deemed cancer-free. Although this freedom wasn’t guaranteed to be everlasting, it meant a ring in the right direction, toward a life unbeknownst of a battle with health.

Despite her tarnish, Olivia exudes luster. As a current freshman at Texas Christian University, Olivia has endured and accomplished more than most teenagers. She is a voice for the voiceless and advocates for childhood cancer, all while maintaining high academic standards and social normalcy. Although her illness was inherently toxic, Olivia views her battle as an era of self-transformation, of seeking cracks of light in the darkest caves.

Even when they appear pitch black.

An Appointment with Poland and Persistence

Olivia was eager to embark on a family trip to her ancestors’ home when she felt odd pains. Her doctor prescribed medicine and told her to get on the plane; she’d feel better soon.

But she didn’t. The next few days consisted of bedrest and Google translators dictating doctor appointments. A foreign cloud began to loom over the Sergots in a foreign city. These few pills were the first of many in her upcoming battle against Wilms tumor, a condition most common in babies.

"I didn't want to make my friends and family sad. I almost didn't want them to know.

It's just too much to handle even for myself. I didn't want to put it on them," shares Olivia.

Thankfully, facts and figures lessened the burden. According to the American Cancer Society, the survival rate for Stage IV Wilms tumors is between 85% and 90%. Olivia was going to come out okay on the other side.

She began chemotherapy at St. Lurie's Children's Hospital in downtown Chicago. Doctors injected chemo medicine in her chest for six weeks. The good days consisted of chocolate hospital pudding; the bad days included sharp pains that felt like someone was intricately carving through her fragile body.

In April of 2019, the forecast predicted remission. Olivia prayed the void that had been carved would fill again, this time with resolution rather than Rx.

The scans demonstrated notorious news, though: Cancer persisted. Olivia cites this relapse as one of the lowest points in her life. She wanted to give up. "It didn't add up in my brain. I was so ready to ring the bell, but I got my hopes up too high. I was looking forward to getting my senior year back," Olivia reflects.

To taste sweet normalcy before enduring round two, Olivia craved a milestone: prom. Most teenagers dream of what dress they'll wear, which date they'll don, and where the post-prom event will be. Olivia dreamed of attending. Period.

Season two treatment came with its own cast of complications: freezing ovaries to ensure future fertility, experimental tactics, and hair loss. Olivia reflects that though the physicalities were exhausting, the mental struggle was far more crippling. "That whole summer, I was really depressed. I've never been an inherently sad person, and I knew that in the back of my head. I looked in the mirror and knew I didn't look like everyone else. Everyone stares everywhere you go. I felt so stuck, so lost, and so not Olivia. I'm not that girl, you know, I couldn't let myself become her."

Olivia's therapist prescribed her antidepressants, which gave her the boost she needed to get out of her monotonous routine. She picked herself up by her bootstraps, took a shower, socialized with a new crowd, and began to feel like herself again -- with or without a wig.

Olivia isn't a diehard Pink Floyd fan, but she cherishes the band’s album cover, "The Wall." She shares, "It's to symbolize breaking that wall and getting through it. I thought to myself, wow, that's such a good way to put it. I needed to get my act together, do what I can, and control what I can."

So she took a hammer, and in the symbolic act of destruction, Olivia rebuilt who she once was, or rather, who she's always aspired to be.

Relationships Inspire Resilience

Olivia's story entails far more than her chemotherapy, her crusades, and her cancer. Olivia is a daughter, a sister, a friend, and to those who are privileged to be so close to her, an angel sent from above. These relationships are undoubtedly what kept her so strong.

The Sergot family moved from Canada to a suburb outside of Chicago when Olivia was a high-school freshman. Hence, Olivia has friends all across the map, literally. She relayed treatment updates and smiling photos to her many circles through Instagram. She utilized YouTube to share extensive details of her story.

"It was really cool because I had this tiny little platform of all my friends and family all in one place. The number of direct messages I got from people being like, 'Oh my gosh, you're so strong, and let me know if you need anything,' was overwhelming in the best way. An outpouring of love from everyone I knew was crazy. That was my motivation. I just wanted to be healthy again, for them. I almost owed it to them, in a way."

Cancer can be just as hard on the family as the patient. The Sergot family was no exception. Olivia's mom practically lived at the hospital, despite her father insisting she get some sleep. Olivia’s mother, Cindy, reflects, “Once the shock lifted we all banned together to help her. All of our hearts were broken to see her suffer, and we did our best to try and keep things as light and positive as possible and become a team. There were some rough days for all of us, but it was because we love her so much and would do anything we could for her.” Olivia accredits her persistent bravery to her family.

Younger sister Ava Sergot faced an array of emotions during this turbulent time. She feared for her sister, but also for herself, as these conditions can sometimes be genetic. Olivia selflessly insisted that Ava live her high school experience free of as many burdens as possible. Despite her apprehension, Ava treated Olivia as a typical sister, which was just what the doctor ordered.

"When I came home, it was nice that she didn't treat me like I was sick. She was still my sister; we would go back and forth fighting. She was more of a sense of normalcy for me, which was beyond refreshing. She's literally my best friend. I love her so much, but I wouldn't say that directly to her," says a smiling Olivia.

Today, Olivia nurtures a new perspective: living life unapologetically. Appreciate every moment with the people you have in your life, today, tomorrow, and for all further tomorrows. "I was put in this position where I was sixteen and thinking I was going to die. That doesn't happen to everyone. So when I received treatment, I felt I was given this chance to experience more. I felt a deep obligation to use it." Olivia can't fathom how she used to be a part of the large teenage population that complains about attending school early in the morning. Now, it's a much-loved privilege.

The Internship of a Lifetime

Even before she got sick, Olivia knew she wanted to pursue a career in medicine. Her foggy decision was made clear as she was, in her own words, in "the best position as a cancer patient; it was the internship of a lifetime." She experienced everything hospital life entails, growing incredibly close to her nurses as a self-prescribed people person. She aspires to wear those nurse scrubs herself. "My dream is to be able to say to a patient: 'I got through this, so can you. Let's do this.' Every time I have a hard test, I fixate all my energy on this end goal." As a nurse, Olivia will get to serve as the expert and the veteran, an empathetic combination.

Olivia's battle is not yet a victory, but she has earned a million wins. On October 2nd, 2020, Olivia went home to Chicago to complete her routine scans. She attempted to ignore the slight pain in her back, but paranoia looms over her ever since her first relapse. The cancer persists again, but her pursuit of an everlasting remission -- and lust for life -- is never absent.

Although the bell of freedom may currently be silent, her kindhearted spirit and optimism remain thunderous. As for Olivia, the new tarnish only makes her luster shine brighter. Although this bell is where the story started, it is not where it ends.

Olivia doesn't know the exact date she'll ring the bell once again, or if she'll even encounter that same Chicago bell. But her figurative bell will ring far louder than before, through the hundreds of lives she'll touch -- as a driven nurse, a loving daughter, a true sister, and a compassionate friend.