Emily’s Voice Lives on Through Words She Left Behind

Nicknamed “Ace,” Emily Ferguson ranked nationally in competitive trap shooting, a sport in which competitors shoot at clay targets released into the air by a spring-loaded trap. The sport requires lightning-quick reflexes, accurate aim, and sharp vision.

Learning the fundamentals of eye dominance—the brain’s tendency to favor input from one eye over the other—is important, allowing the shooter to align their sights with their targets. When trap shooters first begin to learn the sport, coaches work with them to figure out which eye is dominant. During the first day of trap team practice at Emily’s school, she immediately told her coach she was left-eye dominant. When the coach questioned why she was so sure of it, she said, “I only have one eye, trust me on this one.” 

Emily’s right eye was removed by surgery when she was a toddler. She had retinoblastoma, a cancer of the eye. At age 11, Emily developed another type of cancer, Ewing sarcoma, in her ribs and one of her lungs. It came back when she was 17.

Emily graduated from St. Mary’s Episcopal School in Memphis, and began college at the University of Tennessee Southern on academic and athletic scholarships as a member of the school’s competitive clay target shooting team. However, due to health issues, Emily only attended college for 1 year. Deciding to leave college was hard for her. From a young age, Emily was an independent spirit.

Emily died in April 2024 at age 22. As part of a creative writing project at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital called ChronCan, Emily had written about her experiences with cancer. Emily’s family wants to share her story in hopes that it will help others.

Here are Emily’s words:

I am too independent to be chronically ill.

I want to do it all on my own. I want my body to just work right and let me live like everyone else. I want to be able to do the boring and tedious things without taking twice as long as everyone else. I don’t want to get out of doing things. I don’t want to ask for help to do things I know are easy. Cleaning, doing laundry, unpacking my college dorm. Only to then have to ask for help packing it up again, barely a month later, because it’s too hard on my body to try and stay in school and take care of myself and make trips back and forth for treatment and stay on top of classes.

‘I want to stand up and carry on’

I don’t want to be tired all the time. I don’t want to struggle to catch my breath as if I’ve just gone on a run after climbing a single flight of stairs. I want to stand up and carry on about my day—not get dizzy with darkened vision. I want to move at a speed that can be described with words other than “slow” and “she’ll get there eventually.”

 I used to be so athletic. I used to run every day after school. I loved running. To the point where I was able to lap my gym teacher whenever we ran the mile in PE. It’s crazy how weak I feel comparing myself from back then to now. Things that wouldn’t make me so much as break stride now require lying down to recover.

For example, I tried to assemble an IKEA monstrosity for my sister. Never again. Like I said, I’m a lot weaker than I used to be, but good grief, this is ridiculous. Huffing and puffing like I’ve run a 5K because of a glorified shelving unit. I used to be the go-to child for all the physical labor going on at my house. I’d get it done super-fast, too. No problems. Easy-peasy. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. It’s a devastating blow to my ego, to be sure. I doubt anyone will want me helping going forward. (Side note: I now require supplemental oxygen, so I was correct.) 

‘I can do something’

But I want to help. I feel bad just sitting around when others are working. I’m told to “just sit back” so I don’t “wear myself out,” but how can I be expected to build my stamina just lazing around all day, every day? Granted, I can’t do any substantial work—I know this—but I can do something. And does it really matter if I get tired?

I’m 22 years old. I’m smart enough to know when to stop. I’m not going to let myself pass out from overworking myself. As much as I truly appreciate others’ consideration for my health, I would like for people not to handle me with kid gloves.

At the end of the day, I think all I want is something to do. Anything. At this point, riding to the gas station is an exciting trip out of the house for me. I had to withdraw from college—my final bastion of hope for having a “normal” life—so all I do now is sit around, binge on the internet, doomscroll, and play video games. As great as that would seem for many, if that is all you do day in and day out, I’m here to tell you: It gets old quickly, and I am bored to tears.

‘Making the most of what you have’

But I’ve been doing this for a long time—and there are some silver linings to treatment. For example, hair care is very affordable, and people don’t question me when I use “appointments” to get out of doing things. I also enjoy getting to wear my pajamas all day and eating junk food whenever I want. To quote my sister, “You need to pick me up from school more. Mom always agrees to get ice cream when you come.”

So, it really is a matter of making the most of what you have. And—despite the illness—I have been exceptionally fortunate in life. I have a loving family, I have great friends, I’ve gotten to travel the world, and I want for absolutely nothing. I could certainly be a lot worse off. This is the life I know, and who knows how it would be affected if I were healthy. How much would change? How much would be the same? How different would I be? Would I be any happier? Because ultimately, I am happy with my life. So, shockingly but truthfully, I wouldn’t change a thing. 

Emily did not want to be defined by her cancer. Her life was so much more than that. Her mom, Christa, remembers that Emily loved to help others. On her high school trap shooting team, members looked to Emily for guidance and advice, and she enjoyed sharing her knowledge and suggestions with them. Through her writing, her voice lives on to inspire others.

Christa shared what she thought Emily would think about her words being published now:

“I think she would be honored that something she said could be helpful to someone else.”

Well done, Emily.