Thursday, September 13, 2018

Why I care...and you should too. πŸŽ—

Many people probably believe I am passionate about childhood cancer because I lost a child to the awful disease. That is only partially true. There is so much more to my story and many reasons why I can’t function daily unless I keep the fight going. Awareness is just 1/2 the battle. Trust me, before my daughter got sick I knew almost nothing about childhood cancer. Honestly I didn’t want to know. It’s not exactly a pleasant topic. As most people probably do I turned a blind eye to the cute, sick, bald children I saw on TV commercials. I might have read a few facebook posts about a sick child then I would think “How sad and horrible”.  I’d maybe say a prayer and move on with my day. I mean, isn’t St Jude curing all of them!?!? Send them your $20 a month and all will be ok. Right!?? 
The truth is, as wonderful as St Jude may be the commercials are very deceiving. They pull at your heartstrings but we are very far from a 80% cure rate. I believe people need to know the real truth and honest facts in order to want to join in this fight against childhood cancer. Unless you know the truth you can’t understand the urgency and need to make changes. Looking past the horrific treatments these children endure such as the prods and pokes, the burns, the screams, the sickening chemo, countless medications, nausea, indescribable pain, transfusions, sleepless nights, months and sometimes years...there is so much more to understand. I can try and explain what the nightmare is like but there are literally no words to describe how horrific it actually is. It is unimaginable and I describe it as a war with bloody casualties and horrendous scenes you can never unsee and only wish you could. Watching your child tortured day after day is your only hope for saving them and there is nothing you can do to make it stop. It destroys families and lives. It changes you~ forever. The truth is this...doctors, specialists, nurses have the best intentions to cure your child but the advancements are so few and the knowledge is so little that they are really just giving treatments their best guess. Some kids have cancers that are considered rare with a slight chance of survival and they survive. Some have more common cancers with high cure rates and don’t survive. It’s a game of roulette. Some types of childhood cancers do have more treatment options and higher cure rates because they have gotten most of the attention and funding while some have zero cure rates and little to no advancements. The treatments for all
of them are barbaric and many treatments haven’t changed at all over the last 40 yrs. There have only been a few drugs approved specifically for children while adults have 100’s of drug options...think about that...how can this be? It is for many reasons. I believe the main reason is because kids don’t have a voice. Many parents that go through this cancer experience can barely survive it themselves much less talk about it during or after the fact. If their child does survive many want out of the cancer world for good, understandably. They desire a life of normalcy and without the burden of cancer. If they lose their child the grief is too painful to constantly relive. 
Drug companies deal with a lot of politics and red tape. They don’t want to experiment on children for ethical reasons. In order to try out new drugs on children the child has to be in fairly good health. Many of these children are in frail health and have aggressive or advanced cancers and don’t quality for drug testing. This is even though parents may beg for any new treatment options when the typical treatment options are exacerbated. We did, we begged and searched to no avail. Most childhood cancers are diagnosed after they are already in advanced stages. Many symptoms are subtle or acute or written off as typical childhood aches and pains. Many adults are diagnosed at earlier stages and have symptoms they can express to doctors and are able to request more testing. 
The National Cancer Institute (NCI) is the government agency that funds most cancer studies. Of all the $ they allocate  less than 4% is granted to children’s cancer research. Children are not a national priority and only the most common cancers get most of that 4% pot. The more “rare” types have little funding and therefore have made few advancements. Some types of cancer like DPIG have a zero percent cure rate...zero. The 5 year survival rate = a cure in the cancer world. Many of these children that survive for 5 yrs. after diagnosis are not necessarily cured. Many relapse months/years later and many are still enduring treatments at the end of 5 yrs. Some are lucky to survive but of those who survive 2/3 will have severe and lingering health problems because of their cancer treatments. Adult cancers and children’s cancers are totally different entities. What treats an adult may not benefit a child with the same cancer. A child’s DNA and bodily make up is different from an adults. Researchers and doctors are now realizing this and beginning to treat them differently. There are 12 main types of childhood cancers and literally 100’s of subtypes. We need alternatives to chemo and more targeted therapies. We are finally seeing some new less aggressive treatments being developed but it’s slow moving. It’s all about the money and money is needed to fund cures. If the government isn’t helping then it is up to private organizations to raise the needed funds and support the studies with the most promising research. That is what we do with our “United for a Cure Fund”. I fight with Mary everyday by first spreading awareness then finding ways to raise $. I plead, I beg, I expose my heart. It’s worth it to me. I couldn’t save Mary but maybe I can help save another child in the future. 
When I first realized all of these true facts it blew my mind. In an advanced society where we can put a man on the moon and develop an atomic bomb why haven’t we found cures for childhood cancer? Or maybe a better question is why hasn’t anyone cared before? Now with social media and other news outlets we can share our story, our reality and work to help change things one person at a time. In fact childhood cancer has never been a priority. Ever. One child suffering is one too many and hundreds of thousands have suffered for way too long. My daughter once said to me, “If I have to die so others can live then I’m ok with that.” As much as I didn’t want to hear her say this at the time I believe she was much smarter than me. She has always been smarter than me and she knew something I didn’t. If she survived then the people who followed her story would never grasp the urgency for change. We shared Mary’s life through cancer because she wanted to. She wanted to change things and help others, her life was a secondary concern to her. I can promise you one thing, cancer is not rare. It will effect your family at some point in time if things don’t rapidly change. The childhood cancer rate is increasing, not decreasing. 1/285 children will be diagnosed with cancer by the time they are 20 yrs old. That’s 700 kids a day! Cancer is the LEADING cause of death by disease in children under the age of 19. The life span of a child effected by cancer is shortened by an average of 30 yrs. 
If it hasn’t touched you already it will one day be impossible to turn your head if things don’t change. I just pray it isn’t your child, immediate family or best friend who is effected. But it very well might be. 
Every penny we raise we give to research we feel is making fast and important advancements in the childhood cancer world. We want a cure. A good cure. One with less harsh treatments, fewer side effects and more lives saved. You can help by giving whatever you can and also by sharing our story. Thank you to all of those who don’t and didn’t turn their heads, who continue to lift up our family and constantly support us. There are thankfully many of you. ❤️πŸŽ—XO
www.curechildhoodcancer.org/United 

Thursday, May 24, 2018

Graduation πŸ‘©‍πŸŽ“ Staying thankful

Graduation time always stirs up a ton of my emotions. I am always reminded that Mary Elizabeth will never get her chance to graduate from high school. She was not even able to graduate from middle school. She loved school more than any child ever could. She loved learning and socializing~all of it. She loved life in general. She was very smart, super duper smart. She was going to go places and do great things. I have to remind myself that she already has done great things and has gone to the greatest of places even if they were not in the same way I anticipated. By some miracle she was able to attend her 5th grade graduation since she was feeling fairly healthy between chemo treatments. It was a wonderful memory and something I will forever treasure. Her whole class greeted her in hospital masks and they danced the afternoon away. Those same kids are now high school freshmen moving up to be sophomores. I thank God for that special graduation moment we didn’t have to miss because of stupid cancer. Cancer had robbed us of too much already. Life is made up of many 
moments. Some moments you want to remember, some you want to forget and some you can’t forget. I always tried to take pictures and keep a vivid record in my mind of the good moments. I never took special moments for granted even before Mary got sick. I was always thankful for all the good in my life. I think deep down I somehow knew to soak up every happiness because it might be fleeting. I didn’t need cancer to remind me. I wish everyone could step back and just be more thankful. All the good moments remind me of my many blessings. They keep me breathing daily and looking forward to tomorrow. The tough moments teach me hard lessons I can’t easily forget. 
Remember when you get sad that your children are growing up there are many that would give anything to be able to see their children grow up and have these wonderful same experiences. It’s a time to cherish not a time to mourn. You can mourn when there are no longer memories to be made. Next year Whit will graduate from 5th grade at the same elementary school Mary did. Maddy will graduate from the middle school Mary never got to attend but wanted to attend so desperately. It will be an emotionally difficult time but I will also remain thankful for the amazing accomplishments of Whit and Maddy. They make us very proud everyday. I know Whit and Maddy live through these wonderful moments knowing they need to make the most of them and live to do the things their sister could not. They learned too young that life is short and nothing is guaranteed. I know Mary is also very proud of them and she is watching them succeed in life from her wonderful new home in Heaven. Maybe my kids are not in all honors classes, they are not always the most athletic, talented or whatever. What they are is happy. They are strong and they are healthy. I’ll take that any day. 
Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.

-SΓΈren Kierkegaard

Monday, February 5, 2018

15

Mary’s birthday is here. She would be 15.  I can’t even fathom this to be a true fact, honestly. I imagine how tall and beautiful she would now be.  She would be learning to drive (scary). I believe she would be performing in many singing and dance performances at RISPA,  school and church. She would have many wonderful close friends who appreciate her sense of humor and her gigantic heart. I am sure she would be active in many clubs, church activities and projects that help others in need. To go there in my mind and really think about all of this breaks my heart in two. I will never fully understand how and why she was chosen as the unlucky one to have been taken by the evil that is cancer. Maddy is helping to plan her birthday celebration. Thank goodness for Maddy, without her I couldn’t plan effectively or even think clearly. She is a sassy boss lady, but she gets the job done. We have made it a tradition to make Mary a special cake, send notes to her on pink balloons to Heaven and to spend the day just celebrating her. Reliving good times and happy memories makes the pain a little more tolerable. Maddy and Whit are so strong and amazing. They love their big sister with their whole heart. We will forever be broken with holes in our hearts and nothing can completely fill them. I think these special activities help them connect and “speak” to Mary. All of this is very painful for me, but I know we will forever celebrate the day our first perfect, spunky and beautiful baby girl was born. Mary’s siblings will never forget her. They will always look up to her and celebrate her life as often as possible. Cancer sucks!!!

Dear Mary,
Happy 15th Birthday!!!!
We miss you terribly and we desperately wish we had your human self here to physically love on and celebrate with. I feel certain your spirit will be with us celebrating this very special day. Maddy has designed a special cake and we will be sending you some balloons up to Heaven. I am sure this would be a very important day for you if you were still here with us. Maybe you would want a new phone, new make up and new clothes. But I am certain that you would also be giving to someone else in need and not thinking about only yourself. That is just how you were. We ask you to give us some type of sign so we know you are here with us. You always come though. Every time I think about another birthday without you my heart hurts. It physically feels pain. It will always be this way, I am afraid. πŸ’”
In keeping with birthday tradition I will share and remember your birth story. You always loved hearing it and PaPa always did the same for me. Yours is a doozie...here goes...
Before I got pregnant with you I had suffered many miscarriages. So many, in fact, that I lost count. But I was determined to have a child of my own. I begged and pleaded with God to help me. “Just one child please God, just one.” πŸ™ When I first found out about you I was excited but guarded since I had already experienced so many disappointments. I carried you always scared and worried that you might be taken from me at any moment. Your 20 week appointment told us you had some health issues and we would have to watch you closely throughout. There was a chance you might not grow as big as you should and might not survive to full term. I got ultrasounds often which actually gave me some peace. I bought my own heartbeat monitor so I could listen anytime I wanted at home. Once I could feel you move I was able to breath a slight sigh of relief. We found out you were a girl and we were thrilled. We named you “Mary Elizabeth” after your two great grandmothers. It was a perfect name just like you. I got busy decorating your nursery. That was exciting. It was very pink and very girly. I had your name put on the wall, a full wardrobe of monogrammed clothes and I was ready for you. I would often sit in you room for hours picturing you and waiting. I would rock in the pink gingham rocker and dream about you being in my arms. Around 37 weeks I just knew something was up and you were ready to be born. My doctors thought  I was being irrational but to humor me they checked and I did have some leaking fluid. My heart told me you were ready to be born, I need to always listen to my heart. Sometimes I forget. I went to the hospital ready to give birth. Everything went very fast and you arrived in a dramatic way, as I should
have expected. Nothing about you has ever been “ordinary”. You were born with your umbilical cord wrapped twice around your neck. So tight that the midwife had to cut it away. During all this drama your two excited grandmothers were tying to burst into the room and had to be shoed away several times. Everyone was more than ready for your arrival. You were perfect. Actually you were the most perfect and beautiful baby I had ever seen. I was expecting you to look different. Maybe squished or red-I’m not sure. You had a perfect face, a head full of beautiful brown hair and when you cried it was the most wonderful sound I had ever heard in my whole entire life. You were skinny and tiny like a “naked wet squirrel”. When I bathed you for the first time I cried because I was scared to break you. I had to leave the hospital before you because the doctors wanted to keep you an extra day to make sure you were healthy enough to go home. I remember vividly pitching a huge fit because I didn’t want to be separated from you for even a moment. I had stayed up constantly since you were born, not sleeping a wink. I think I was worried someone would take away my most precious gift. I felt the need to constantly protect you. That feeling never went away. I left the hospital crying with empty arms. It was the worst feeling I had ever felt up to that moment in my life. Unfortunately I would experience a much worse feeling 12 years later when you were taken away from me and I had to again leave the hospital without you in my arms. The night after your birth I was “kicked out” of the hospital. I think I called every hour all night long to check on you. I woke your daddy up at 5 a.m. to take me back to you. I hadn’t slept and I needed to get back to you ASAP. I went into the special care nursery around 6 a.m. and refused to leave until I was able to take you home. They finally relented. I’ll never forget what I was wearing coming home, noticing the pink balloons on the mailbox. You were wearing the most beautiful onsie (that was wayyy too big) and a cute little white bonnet. Excited grandparents met us at the door. I expected life to slow down once I got you home...it didn’t. I hardly ever slept (no exaggeration) for the first two years of your life. I worried constantly that something would take you away from me (I was right about that). I constantly listened to your breathing and dealt with your health issues all along the way. But I wouldn’t change a thing. We often tell stories and laugh about how you never wanted to miss a moment. You were the most spunky and strong willed child I had ever known. This served you well throughout your cancer journey. You were not scared of anything and we had to sometimes put you behind gates just to keep you safe. You grew into the most loving and greatest big sister ever. And the smartest most loving daughter I could have ever hoped for. I could talk about you for days but I am sure you are busy and have work to do and your birthday to celebrate with your friends. I know you feel how much we all love and miss you. That will never stop until we are with you again. Save a spot for us at your party. I will love you forever and ever. 
Mommy

*Each year on Mary’s Birthday we celebrate Mary by asking our friends and family to donate $ the same amount as her birth age to show her love. This year she would be 15. If you feel led to do so you may donate $15 to our United fund that we use to fund research that will destroy pediatric cancer, specifically AML, for good.  Mary was very adamant that we join her fight to find a cure. Thank you! www.curechildhoodcancer.org/united


Thursday, January 18, 2018

Happy New Year Mary Elizabeth,

Dear Mary, Elizabeth,
Happy New Year!!! 🎊 its a time for new beginnings (which I need) but it also means I survived another year without you. New Year’s Eve was a hard time for me.  It use to be fun with you. When you were here we spent family time together and had PJ parties with friends. We would stay up for the final countdown and toast with sparkling cider. Those wonderful memories I will treasure forever. I try to enjoy these, now mostly painful, times as much as possible. My smile might look real but it is really just hiding the tears. I can usually hold them back if I mentally block the memories from reaching the surface. Lately I have had a few public meltdowns. The tears flow and I can’t stop them. I don’t like not being in control of my emotions but I’m sure this is part of the grieving process. I have so many wonderful memories with you. Many more good times than bad. The not so great memories are the ones that I don’t want to ever have to remember but they sometimes invade my thoughts. Like the New Years that you had your first lung bleed and intubation. Other than witnessing your passing watching you be intubated was the worst memory of my life. I believe there are few things much worse than seeing your child having tubes and machines breath for them and keeping them alive. Watching you lay paralyzed and helpless was unimaginable. But not being able to help you was worse than horrible. I held your limp hand for hours and I prayed and prayed that I would be able to hear your sweet voice again. I’m sure I tried to make many deals 
with God.  Thank goodness you came back to us. I often wondered what you felt and heard during those times. Thankfully you seemed to not remember much. Many times when things felt hopeless a miracle would save you and bring you back to me. Only a miracle could do that. When we lost you I questioned those miracles. I thought that maybe they were just wishful thinking or my imagination. I’m starting to believe in them again. Please tell God I’m sorry for my anger and doubt. Although I’m sure He knows and understands. 
Today we had more snow and I wish you were here to enjoy it. It’s hard to enjoy it or have any kind of fun without you. I hope you have snow in Heaven. I can remember you waiting by the window excited and impatiently waiting  for the first flake whenever you heard there was a chance for snow. Then you would run around wild with your brother and sister. But you were always watching to make sure they were safe and behaving. We would make snowballs and mini snowmen. We would make snow cream and laugh about not picking up the yellow snow. I miss you so bad that it hurts. My heart aches for you. I know I will see you again. I love you so very much. Happy New Year in Heaven. I can hardly wait until our reunion.
                      Love,

                  Mommy 

Monday, December 18, 2017

Dear Mary Elizabeth πŸ’•

Dear Mary Elizabeth, 
I often wonder how I have been able to live without you. It doesn’t seem possible that you are really gone or that the world could possibly rotate without you in it. I imagine you are in a parallel universe walking right beside me. I imagine you are similar to the air. I can’t see you but I know you are there. Just like the O2 I need to survive, I also can’t live without you. Since I can’t live without you, you must still be near. I know because if I listen closely I hear your voice whisper in my ear. We sometimes meet in my dreams. We were so close and you were my best friend. A bond like that can never be broken, not even by death. I know you see my tears and watch my suffering but I promise I hear you saying “Mommy, I’m here. Don’t be sad. I love you.” I hear you and I am really really trying to be strong, strong just like you. You are my inspiration. I have never seen anyone come close to the strength you had. It is still an inspiration to so many. I can’t tell you how many times I have heard people going through tough times tell me your fight got them through their struggles. They often say to me, “If Mary could do it then I can too.”  Please stay close to your daddy and Whit and Maddy. I know you do. They need you and I pray they hear you too. I often think about the advice you would be giving Maddy and how you would be rolling your eyes and laughing at her stories. I think about you hugging Whit and telling him how to play ball and how to treat girls. 
I promise I am doing better. I can tell stories about you and smile and laugh now...sometimes. I can think of you more and cry but come back to reality and keep going. I think that is called healing. I understand I can never be fully healed from losing you but maybe eventually the wound won’t bleed so much. I imagine you are busy up in Heaven. You are such a good friend and so smart. I know you are comforting those new and lost, making them feel welcome and comfortable in their new home. I know I will see you soon. For you time is most likely different, maybe it moves faster. Here on earth it seems to drag on. Soon is relative but I know the reunion is coming and the anticipation of that day keeps me going. Please keep guiding me and showing me how to keep your dreams and spirit alive. That is my job now. 
I want to apologize to you for any mistakes we made. For any unnecessary pain we caused you. We always tried to follow your wishes and keep you from pain. We tried to save you and allow you to live because we know that is what you wanted also. I know you forgive us for anything we did wrong and that gives me peace because you always forgave and had the most genuine and pure heart of anyone I’ve ever known. I also feel when you went to Heaven you were not scared and at peace. I know because I saw you smile. I love you with all of my being...I know you know. I also know you are always with me, especially during these extra difficult times like the holidays. 
I will see you soon,

Mommy ❤️
2 Corinthians 5:6-8 So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Thanksgiving table πŸ¦ƒ


I haven’t updated the blog in a while. Honestly I haven’t felt much like writing. I didn’t feel like there was anything new to say really. After a while it seems like things are basically the same and my feelings are the same. I get tired of talking about the same thing. Time is marching on and my time away from Mary has just gotten longer. In some ways I feel stronger but sometimes I still feel like a weak, lost puppy. I think I live in denial a lot of the time to function in the everyday world. I can’t look at pictures or memories of her without getting sad and falling apart. I do go there sometimes when I need to feel Mary’s presence and when the missing her is unbearable. I can’t do this often. I have to find a quiet time alone to be in my misery and cry as I need to. I don’t want anyone to see me cry. It’s just so painful and my heart can barely take it. I miss her terribly and the worst part is she is never coming home. Missing her will never go away. I stay as positive and focused on my kids and projects as much as possible. I have had breakdown moments I didn’t think I could recover from, but I did. In many ways I have gotten out of the survival mode. I’ve had to take control of my life and my mental and physical health. I’ve had to figure out how to fix the things I could that were bringing me down. It’s a challenge because life is unpredictable. I feel the desire to control the things I can. I want to figure out who I am now and make the most out of this life. Especially if I am stuck here on this earth a while longer. Death changes you. My perspective and needs have changed. Idesire happiness, any 
little bit I can grab. It is like a drug that I look for and take any chance I can. It is fleeting but if I don’t treasure the bits and pieces I find I feel my soul will surely wither away.  
Halloween was harder than I imagined this year. I got stuck wondering what costume Mary would want. She always had such creative and different costume ideas. She had her own mind and didn’t go along with what was popular with the crowd. I cried over the missing candy bucket and extra candy we didn’t have to sort. I imagine if she were here she would feel old enough to go trick or treating without us. She would go with her friends throughout the neighborhood. She would have come home with funny stories and lots of laughter. I did put out more decorations this year than last. Mainly because the kids helped and wanted me to. They need things to be as “normal” as possible. I get it. There was still a box of Halloween things I never touched. Sometimes it just seemed easier to buy new stuff than to torture myself with past memories and cause myself more pain.  I just wasn’t ready to be “normal.” I don’t feel like anything is “normal” or ever going to be for me...maybe next year...
For Thanksgiving I decorated more than last year but there is still a box I couldn’t open...maybe next year. The kids wanted to move straight to Christmas but I am always adamant we take one holiday at a time and enjoy it for what it is. I actually let them decorate their rooms for Christmas early and we have some Christmas and Thanksgiving decorations intermingled. Why not???Who cares???Honestly I’m ready for the holidays to be over but I would never say that out loud. I am not a total Scrooge. Not totally. I am still very very thankful. I can choose to focus on the negative and be miserable or focus on the good. I can focus on the missing person at the Thanksgiving table or be thankful for who is still there. That is what this season is all about, focusing on being thankful. Mary would have been thankful for the food. She loved food and loved to eat. Thanksgiving was one of her favorite times because...well the food is 
awesome. Plus she loved her family so so much. 
There wasn’t much she didn’t love. Every year Inotice more and more people are missing from our Thanksgiving table. It makes me sad. This past year we have lost several family members and it will be especially difficult. One day hopefully extra people will be added to our table and I will still be alive to enjoy it, if I am lucky. This is a reminder to make the most of everyday and to spend time and enjoy every moment you can with those you love. Every second one spends sad or angry or depressed is a wasted moment you can never get back. I try to remember that and I hope you can also. 
I am thankful most for Mary. The 12 years I got to spend with her were a blessing. Being her mom was one of my greatest blessings. I’m thankful for the lessons she taught me and the love she shared with me. I am most thankful for that and I will try hard to stay focused on the positives. I am thankful for those still at the Thanksgiving table and for those missing this year. I am thankful for the many wonderful memories we were able to share throughout the past years. I hope all my loved ones can find the positives and keep focusing on those instead of the negatives. Life for me is now made up of moments and memories which I cherish. I want to make sure the moments are as good as possible. 
Happy Thanksgiving to all my family and friends. Be sure and count your blessings. May the good always outweigh the bad.






Thursday, September 28, 2017

Target Pediatric AML

I recently wrote this letter to briefly tell Mary's cancer battle and to try and gain support for the Target Pediatric AML Project. If you are ever curious about our story, why we fight and where the money we raise goes please read this letter. Currently we give 100% of all the $ we raise to this project because we earnestly believe it is the best research available for AML, one of the most underfunded childhood cancers. We also hope the research will benefit other childhood cancers as well. I will add a direct link to this project and you may also give directly to it if you feel as passionately about it as we do. I encourage you to watch the video in the link for yourself. Our United for a CURE fund has been able to give $350,000 and we will keep giving as long as we can, as long as we believe in this study and until there is a cure. 

The spring of 2014 was like any other. We were on the beach enjoying Spring Break at our family's favorite spot on the Georgia coast. Mary Elizabeth, our oldest daughter and 11 at the time, wasn't feeling quite herself. She was not eating well, looked extremely thin and seemed to have no energy.  During our Spring Break getaway, she complained of headaches and stomachaches, and even slept while out on the beach.  Prior to our trip, I had taken Mary Elizabeth to the pediatrician on several  occasions only to be told her symptoms were caused by allergies or her ADD medication. I knew something just wasn't right with her, and other family members concerns regarding her appearance and apparent decline in health reinforced my suspicions.  My intuition, and other family members' concerns, prompted us to cut our vacation short and head back to have Mary Elizabeth further evaluated.  We headed straight to children's urgent care center near our home to have her evaluated, including labs and 

blood work.  Initially, we were told that she may have Mono.  The doctor who evaluated Mary Elizabeth felt confident that she did not have cancer as he knew this was our primary concern.  I think it's always every parent's deepest concern when their child's health is in question and the reason isn't clear. The Mono test came back negative; however, the doctor told to us not to worry as she was more than likely at the tail end and probably on the rebound.  I tried not to worry and truthfully was somewhat relieved with the diagnosis of Mono as this condition is temporary and her health would soon improve.  It all kind of made sense or at least that's what I wanted to believe.  Unfortunately, April 10, 2014 would be our last day living in happy ignorance before the horrific phrase "your child has CANCER" entered our lives and began its relentless torment forever. I miss those days of ignorant bliss before knowing about pic lines, chemo, radiation, biopsies, spinal taps, PICU, dressing changes, BMT's, and so much more.  I wish our family didn't have know the horrific reality of childhood cancer. The next day, a nurse from the urgent care clinic called me to check on Mary Elizabeth. After I shared several continued concerns about her symptoms, additional lab tests were run on Mary Elizabeth's blood samples.  A few hours later I received a call from an oncologist to immediately take Mary Elizabeth to the ER at our local children's hospital as they suspected our daughter had leukemia.  Words I never fathomed I would hear.  Literally, my worst nightmare had become reality.  Truthfully, I had no idea the actual nightmare to come.  In that instant, my world started spinning and I had to hold onto the wall just to stand upright.  At that exact moment, my husband walked in the door from work.  All he had to do was see the look on my face and he just knew.  Everything from that moment on is one gigantic blur. We began the process of educating ourselves on the new world that we had been thrust into. My nature is to research and find answers so I did and learned all I could about leukemia even though we were advised not to. We soon learned we didn't have the most common form of childhood leukemia, ALL. We had the worst of the worst-Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML).  The information I gathered about AML was bleak at best. But our daughter was positive and strong. When we were in hysterical tears, including the doctor, trying to
 explain to her that she had leukemia, Mary 
Elizabeth told us very bravely that we needed to stop crying. She stated that she was going to be fine.  She said she was the one with cancer and she was the only one allowed to cry. She was right. We had to suck it up and be strong for her. It was hard to stay strong. I did cry. A lot. I cried outside, into my pillow at night, in the hall or in the shower. I tried to keep my promise not to cry in front of my strong and beautiful fighter. She would sometimes ask me if she was going to die. I would tell her "No, we are going to do everything in our power to keep that from happening." And she would say, "Fine then, let's keep going. I'll do whatever it takes to beat this." And she did. I've never seen any human, male or female or adult fight like this child of God fought to live. She fought through multiple ICU visits, three BMT's, near paralysis, indescribable pain, GVHD, fungal infections, two lung bleeds, two intubations, surgeries, painful chemo burns over 90% of her body, affects of radiation treatments and so much more. Things only conceivable in nightmares, but sadly it was our reality. Things no one can imagine unless they unfortunately have to live it. As a mom, it was the worst thing you can imagine to have to witness. This includes agreeing to daily torture of your child, sleepless nights, living in the hospital, being physically separated from your other children and family, PTSD, insurmountable stress, and much much more. All the while having to function and think as a sane and normal person because your child depends on you to be there no matter what.  You are doing everything in your power to ensure their daily survival. That is your sole purpose in life.  The day before Mary Elizabeth passed she still was able to eat her favorite food at the time which was deviled eggs. She was weak and didn't want to speak to the doctors, but when they asked if she wanted to keep fighting and if she wanted to continue with cancer treatments she played them Rachel Platten's "Fight Song" from her iPhone. When she was on more pain medicine than I've ever seen a person take, very sedated and close to the end, I whispered into her ear that it was ok for her to go to Heaven to be with her friends. She told me "I can't". Those were her last words to me.  She was a fighter.  She never ever gave up!  She still had work to do.  Now Our family must continue with that unfinished work. We talked constantly about fundraisers and how we would work endlessly to end childhood 
cancer if we were ever able to get out of the darn hospital. That's why we don't stop. Why we can't stop. That's why we work tirelessly to raise funds for research.  Someone has to, and if those who are passionate don't do it no one else will. These innocent children have been neglected for far too long.  In fact, forever.  What I wish I knew about AML before Mary Elizabeth was diagnosed are many things.  Mostly, I wish I had known that AML existed in my own back yard and that it isn't rare. I wish I had cared more and been involved in the fight. That is why we spread information to others so that Mary Elizabeth's life, and our family's continued struggles, aren't in vain. I believe people want and need to know the truth. I believe people want to make a difference. They just don't know how. This is why we chose to open up our lives to the public and let people see the truth and the horrific reality of childhood cancer. It needed to be seen. I wish I had known the facts, the honest facts. Let's be real, the stats you are told are complete BS. Looking back, I don't think we would have done anything different. Of course you always wonder and play the "what if game."  It's a horrible game and everyone who plays it loses.  Mary Elizabeth had very few treatment options. Her options were the same as those available 20, even 30, years ago.  While there are still limited treatment options leading to a cure, we have hope in the research and projects on the horizon.  We are excited about the possible break throughs that will come out of the Target Pediatric AML (TpAML) project currently underway.  TpAML gives us hope, real hope for a future cure. I hope more people will also believe in TpAML, share available information on TpAML and donate to the TpAML project.  It is time to make a difference.  Do it for Mary Elizabeth and every child that didn't deserve to suffer, their life forever altered or cut short because we didn't do enough or care enough.
Thank you. 
Mandi Paris
Mother of Mary Elizabeth Paris
Forever 12
 2-5-03 9-2-15
Target  Pediatric AML
united for a CURE