You know him. His name is Preston Christianson. He is 16. May reach it to 17 in July. He is terminally ill with a rare form of cancer. The medics sent him home to pass away with his family, and there is nothing else they could do for him. We recently did a story on his in-home graduation from Tahquitz High School because he may not live until this summer’s graduation date.
I recently sat down with him in a one-on-one conversation. He is an astonishing young man with more courage than anyone I have ever met. Here is how it went.
Q. “Being fully aware that you are terminal and have pretty much a general for your departure from planet earth, how do you feel? I know how your family and friends feel, but has anyone ever asked how you feel?”
A. “No. I’ve been waiting for that question for some time. Thank you for asking. I have been dealing with this cancer since I was very young when first diagnosed. I kind of had to get into the mindset of it. So I already knew it is not if, but when, I die – much sooner than later – there are only two things you can do, really. I can accept it and try to live the best life I can with the time you have left, or I can mope about and be angry at the world for no reason. I try to accept the technology and maybe something will happen to help me beat the odds. Not likely. To me, it is all so simple.”
Q. “I understand they don’t do much research on youth cancer.”
A. “Not really. For children and teenagers, it is only 4% of the investment towards research. The other 96% goes to adults and infants. Patients like myself are caught in the middle. I often wonder how they concluded to focus more on adults, even though they have already lived more of a life. It is like, “What!’ We are the next generation into the future. Why are they not concentrating more on the future than the past? Why isn’t there a better balance? I have a very rare type of cancer and they don’t focus as much on that as they do the more common types. When people think of cancer, they almost immediately bring up breast cancer, colon cancer and prostate cancer. The more common cancers, if you will. There is nothing I can do about it, so I don’t let it stress me out.”
Q. “How do you feel about the hereafter?”
A. “That kind of worries me, if anything does. You don’t know what and what not to believe. Also, whenever you’re gone, what happens? I guess I’m going to find out soon what it is all about. You’re not going to be dealing with family or the world anymore. I wonder what kind of new movies or transportation will develop that I could be missing if cancer didn’t end my life so soon. Of course, you think about it. Adios. Goodbye. That part bothers me the most. I’d like to live to see something really cool.”
Q. “For instance, do you ever think you might be worried that after you are gone there will be something memorable with your family. Do you ever think you might be worried that after you are gone there will be something memorable that you will miss, with your family, for instance?”
A. “Yeah. Sure. I’m preparing for that. I’m busy writing cards and letters into the future – like to my sister; my brother and my family. So they will still be hearing from me, as though I am just out of town. Also to my friends, but especially my young sister. A card for her sixteenth birthday. Let her know I didn’t forget, and when she becomes an adult at eighteen. I want her to have that. Kind of like I’m there wishing it to her in person, not just in spirit.”
Q. “Do you actually “worry” about anything?”
A. “My friends. My family.”
Q “I worry about my cats.”
A. “Yeah, my two cats. My mom will take care of them (we both have cats). Thanks to my family, especially my mom, I don’t have much responsibility.”
Q. “Lap of luxury?”
A. “Pretty much. Gourmet meals. The condemned man had the best treatment in the world. I sure will be sent off with lots of love. That’s for sure. Sometimes I get a little too much. Don’t ever let the last words you say to someone be mean or nasty, because they may actually be your last words. You never know.”
Q. “How does it feel when people talk about you and your future, but not to you?”
A. “Yeah. Hey, I’m not gone yet. I’m here. I’m not just part of the furniture. Preston Christianson is ten feet tall to me and I will be checking in with him regularly. He gives me courage. He inspires. He is ‘the’ example of examples, and I’m glad I can call him a friend. Just sayin’.
Rusty Strait | Senior Reporter
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