If I Had One Wish . . .

During the first few days after Michael was initially diagnosed with leukemia, so many people with official titles and specialized roles, each bearing large binders of paperwork, came through the revolving door to his hospital room that our heads were spinning.  I was transported back in time to that first semester away at college when all the freshman information, dorm/campus handbooks, and the textbooks and syllabi for each class were dumped in my lap.  The overwhelmed, frightened feeling was similar, but this time the stakes were much, much higher.  One pamphlet stood out from the rest:  the Make-A-Wish program.

Michael's form of leukemia qualified him to be granted a "wish."  Just like you, we'd heard of this organization and the wonderful things it does to bring some hope and joy to a struggling child; now we were to be one of those Make-A-Wish families.

Over the next months, Michael spent quite a bit of time thinking and researching different options.  Narrowing down his interests to just one proved to be a challenge.  He knew that he didn't want a "thing" that he would likely outgrow and is too shy to really enjoy getting to meet someone or "become someone" (like a St. Louis Cardinal!) for a day, so he knew that he was interested in taking a trip.  He was also concerned with making a choice that our whole family would enjoy.

Our wish granters were able to visit with us this week.  Michael combined several interests in his wish and is excited to announce that he is headed to Universal Studios in Orlando, FL, Kennedy Space Center, and the beach!  It should be a week of lots of activity and some relaxation.  We aren't sure when Michael will be able to go; we'll leave the timing up to his doctors.  Even if he needs to wait a year, he certainly has something to look forward to.  It will be several amazing wishes come true!

Spring Break Update

Our family has just finished a week of spring break.  We fit in as many fun activities with family and friends as possible.

Michael had a clinic visit and physical therapy session during our break.  The clinic visit was fairly routine.  Michael had lost a small bit of weight, but they attributed it to his being far more active outdoors lately.  They were pleased with his continued health and recovery progress and began weaning him off another of his post-transplant drugs.  Plans are being made for his six-month biopsy in several weeks.  His physical therapy is coming along as well as they expected.

Michael was a bit frustrated to learn that his restrictions this summer will include no mowing (or even being around mowing).  Michael enjoys his time on the mower, but I'm afraid that his dad enjoys Michael's help with the mowing even more.  They had to spend some time consoling each other.

Now, it's back to the daily grind.  The kids will head off to school again in the morning, and Michael will get back to work on his studies with me at home.  The break was wonderful while it lasted!

Deep Despair

Michael got home and caught me working on his blog without him.  He insisted that I add another post tonight to let everyone know that he is in mourning.

He joined in all the March Madness and filled out his brackets with great confidence; unfortunately, he is a Duke fan.  With Duke's loss today, poor Michael's brackets are effectively ruined.  He would like everyone to observe a moment of silence.  (Is it wrong that I am rolling my eyes as I type?)

A Confession

Michael is gone this evening participating in a Nerf war with his youth group, so I'm taking liberties with his blog.

We have all learned so many lessons from Michael's cancer.  Our family will never be the same, and I must admit that the changes are an unexpected blessing.  One lesson in particular has been on my mind quite a bit over the last weeks.

Struggling, hurting people are all around us.  Just in the past few months, so many people that we know have been touched by cancer.  A new teacher at Michael's school was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer over the Christmas holidays.  One of Michael's teaching assistants from several years ago, who has since married and begun her own family, lost a newborn to brain cancer.  A church friend began intense treatment for prostate cancer.  A dear family member who has battled cancer for the past six years was just told that he should not expect to live more than a year.  I'm confident that you could add many more people to this list.

In the midst of all this heartache, I have become keenly aware of the fact that my compassion for others who are suffering has not driven me to reach out as I should have.  For months now, our family has been comforted and encouraged in many, many ways--small gestures, large gifts, thoughtful notes, anonymous acts of kindness, and many prayers--by loving people near and far.  When I think about the number of times that I could have shown the same love to others who were heartbroken, I'm ashamed of my poor efforts. 

I am committing to change this failure on my part into a genuine mission.  I don't know that I'll ever be that unique person who seems to know just what to do or say or give to help others when they have a need, but I can certainly do better.  Maybe I'll just send a card, make a meal, run errands, help with childcare, or simply sit and listen, but I will do something.  I offer a heartfelt thanks to those of you who are such lovely examples of true compassion and encourage everyone to join me in finding and uplifting someone who is hurting.

1, 2, 3, . . . , 98, 99, 100.

(I just found this blog post from a couple of weeks ago still in the "drafts."  Woops!  I apologize to those who were a part of creating the fun that you can finally read about and will try not to show my age so obviously from now on.)

As Michael's 100 days of isolation were ending, mysterious packages, labelled "Do not open until day 100," began arriving from near and far.  Several more gifts arrived soon after his big day.  It became obvious very quickly that an effort had been made to celebrate Michael's milestone by showering him with gifts in quantities of 100.  We were amazed at the generosity and imagination of friends and family.

When all the packages were opened, Michael found 100 (or 100ish) of each of the following:  marshmallows, hand-drawn smiley faces, Pringles, Oreos, Reeses' mini peanut butter cups, Hershey's kisses, pieces of beef jerky, different signatures in get well cards, pencils, minutes of the "The Shadow" on cd, baseball cards with 100 pages and collector's book, football cards, football stickers with NFL album, and new, sequential dollar bills.  He also received several 100-calorie snack packages, two 100+ piece puzzles, a 100-piece art project, an ice cream cake, a list of "100 Things to Be Thankful For," a "100 Wacky Things" game, and a "100 Random Facts" book.  There were even a few gifts of 100 things for the other children.

We find ourselves constantly thanking others for their kindness to Michael and our entire family.  It is such an encouragement to us to know that so many care about our little struggles.  We truly feel blessed.

Field Trip

We might be guilty of breaking a rule or two, but it was for a VERY good cause.  The World Series trophy (which Michael would like to remind everyone that the Cardinals won) has been touring all over the area, and Michael really, REALLY wanted to see it.  You can see for yourself that we couldn't deny him his request.  Mark and Michael went to a local business and had a great time seeing the trophy up close.  While waiting in line, Michael even answered some trivia questions about the World Series and won a prize.  He came home with stories, pictures, and a huge smile.

We continue to be so thankful that Michael is staying healthy enough to allow him to take these occasional outings.  I'm not sure that such a public event was one of those "baby steps" that his doctors described, but I won't tell them if you won't.  Shhhhhhhh . . .