A Night at the Opera

Presented in four vignettes titled by songs from Queen’s ‘A Night at the Opera.’

I. Death on Two Legs (Dedicated to...)

The machine hissed like static from a radio desperately in search of a channel, in search of meaning. The floorboards quivered with each dose of chemo that burnt through my aunt’s veins. I sat paralysed, legs anxiously coiled around the chair legs.

My aunt had always been there for me. From helping me reassemble appliances that I had curiously taken apart as a toddler to counselling my girl problems as a teenager, she was somebody I could depend on. But now, when she needed me themost, I felt like there was nothing I could do to help.

II. Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon

Had this been a regular afternoon, my aunt and I would have been listening to our album, Queen’s A Night at the Opera, rather than the chaotic hiss that flooded the hospital. We listened to the album everywhere, on car rides to the dog park, when cooking dinner in her kitchen, and even on Sunday afternoons, kicking the rugby ball under the retreating Aussie sunset. But now, the hospital hiss that drowned out these memories each week made me feel trapped. It seemed like there was nothing I could do to alter the statistics that governed my aunt’s chances of survival.

However, when the hiss began to haunt me outside of the hospital, I knew I had to dig deeper into the data. My research led me to understand that cancer was rarely hereditary anymore. In fact, it turned out that air pollution is the leading cause of cancer and claims over 200,000 lives every year; my aunt worked in the city’s tunnels where exposure to these conditions may have contributed to her diagnosis.

Though altering the statistics seemed like a daunting task, I had to start somewhere. After all, my aunt had always encouraged me to ‘give it a crack’. I began by founding our school’s Recycling and Environmental Sustainability Committee, a team of students and faculty dedicated to producing and teaching environmental education to students of all ages in several schools across Sydney, students that will ultimately govern our future.

After hearing over three-thousand students’ pledges to support a clean and sustainable environment, taking action suddenly seemed achievable. For the first time, it felt like I could take on the world and change the statistics I once feared.

III. Good Company

The hiss that terrorised my conscience for so long was gradually replaced by our sweet singing of ‘Good Company’ as my aunt neared remission. I was finally learning to support her instead of feeling trapped by the statistics.

My aunt had always been there to listen to my elevator pitches, and in support of my sustainability initiative, began to collect plastic bottles, returning them to Australian recycling machines for a couple of cents. I brought her idea to the committee and we decided to design bottle recycling bins for each school’s campus. Every week, the bottles from our program’s bins are recycled and the money we collect goes towards cancer research and support for Australian families.

IV. You’re my Best Friend

The hiss finally retreated as my aunt rung the remission bell. She had done it, but only because she took action, so her cancer was detected early, and endured over fifty weeks of treatment. Similarly, I had learned never to be complacent or daunted by the seemingly impossible. Other people will support a worthy cause, and by gathering a team there are no limits to what can be achieved.

As the committee continues to expand across the state, I hope that the statistics will begin the change, that pollution will begin to falter. Whatever may ‘hiss’ in the future, I now know that there will always be a solution as long as action is taken and we never become complacent.