Saturday, April 30, 2011


There was a boy in Miss E's pre-K class who had cancer. He was diagnosed at age 3 and up until he was 6 all he knew was doctor's, hospitals, needles, medication and sickness. Cancer. His parents bravely fought this battle while still trying to preserve the parts of his childhood that they could, like sending him to preschool, even though if he got a fever, it meant a hospital stay for him. But it made him feel somewhat normal. At the end of November last year, he took his last dose of chemo. The doctors declared him cancer-free and we all were elated for this family. His mom and dad got tattoos commemorating the battle and had 5 months to celebrate him being a normal boy. Going to school, coming home, skate-boarding, not worrying terribly if someone in his kindergarten class had a cold. A big sigh of relief.

I saw his mom yesterday and we chatted about how Miss E and her son were liking kindergarten, how great it was and how great they were both doing. How excited we were that the kids were getting bigger.

This morning a post on her facebook page - "cancer is back, it's leukemia this time". An entirely different cancer. A new, entirely different cancer. And now her little boy is lying in the children's hospital getting blood transfusions, talking about bone marrow transplants and his family is seeing their "normal" being yanked away. Any sigh of relief they breathed is over. She wrote on her blog today that the survival rates of a relapse are "not good".  And here I sit, watching my beautiful healthy girl play with her beautiful healthy cousin and know that Mr. T and my niece are playing at my parents without a care in the world other that what is for dinner and who's turn it is with a certain toy. It almost feels unfair. We are so so lucky and there is not a reason for it. Not one reason why it's not our child that we are warning family and friends might not survive.  We are blessed beyond measure. Truly and completely blessed and my heart is just breaking for this little boy and his family.


  1. fair doesn’t factor into disease... dang it.

  2. Woof. Time to hug all your people close and be thankful for them. Me too.