It’s been a joyful yet very stressful life path we’ve been on since Alex was born. I like to say our family is taking the treacherous but more scenic route. When Alex was born it was an immediate struggle to get him to grow and gain weight as he was constantly vomiting. Despite all our efforts to figure out what was causing this, it remained a mystery until his 4 year old well check up. I casually mentioned that he was constantly needing to urinate, often getting him up with a full bladder 4 x a night. We were exhausted. His pediatrician took the comment seriously and next thing I know Alex was having a kidney biopsy. We were blindsided to get a diagnosis we had never heard of let alone were able to pronounce called Focal Segmental Glomerulosclerosis. There was no cure and no real treatment. The disease had already caused 70% loss of combined kidney function. We were told he will eventually need dialysis and/or a kidney transplant to live.
We were able to slow further loss of function through diet and some medications until he hit puberty in 2021. As his body attempted to grow the demands on his kidneys were too much and he was put on the transplant list in early 2022 when Alex was 13. Many family members stepped forward to be his donor but in the end I was the best match and I found out I would be able to donate one of my kidneys to Alex. I was so thrilled. The doctors were confident he would have a great outcome.
Alex and I underwent surgery to transfer one of my kidneys to him on 11/7/22 at the University of Iowa. I woke from surgery to find that all had gone well, but within a week we were back in the hospital with complications. He had to have another surgery to try to remove a large amount of fluid that was accumulating around his new kidney. The surgery went well but his kidney never seemed to recover. Over the next year we battled several acute rejection episodes. Each one required large amounts of medications that were hard on his body and there were always multiple days in the hospital. He missed so much school I was worried he would never catch up. His immune system became very weary from all the prednisone and he began to develop one infection after the other. We could barely go 3-4 weeks without a hospital admission for the next year. At his one year Kidneyversary instead of celebrating we were back in the hospital with a very scary kidney infection that led to sepsis. We spent a couple days wondering if Alex would make it through. He did. I can only give thanks to God for helping us find the doctors and nurses at Blank in time to save his life. I learned to never go a day without monitoring him for some kind of illness.
But the infections didn’t stop and became even scarier. He got infected by a rare virus that next spring that caused his bone marrow to stop producing red blood cells and he was back in the hospital for several blood transfusions and infusions to boost his immune system. He had been taking too many steroids and his adrenal glands were shut down. He was now dependent on them to live. He was missing so many things and he became pretty discouraged at this point. We had been telling him for the past year and a half that things would get better, but we were all starting to lose hope.
This past summer Alex’s kidney function had slowly declined to almost the level it was when he needed a transplant in the first place. We were stuck in the transplant swamp slowly sinking. He was trying to participate in marching band practice and went to get certified as a lifeguard. That ended in another ER visit with no new answers. He would come home and fall asleep for hours. He began to complain of back pains that were so severe he couldn’t stand or walk. He was only able to walk a few feet at a time. I remember telling his nurse on one of many calls I made that it seemed he was slowly dying. We went to the emergency room 3 times in a matter of 3 weeks this past august because his pains became so severe he couldn’t stop screaming. He could only get relief lying down. I wondered how he would even be able to start school in a couple weeks.
On the third ER visit the two doctors there took us very seriously and were determined to figure it out once and for all. By this time Alex could hardly walk. A series of tests revealed there was a blood clot in his abdomen extending from the pelvis into his new kidney and all the way up the vein part way back to his heart. Within 10 minutes of the diagnosis Alex was on a life flight to Iowa City for emergency surgery. I had begun to accept that Alex would probably not live to be an adult, so all I felt was extreme relief. It finally all made sense. There is a famous transplant surgeon who wrote that transplant patients are like Puzzle People and the key is make all the pieces fit. It felt like we had the last piece, now we just had to make sure it was put in place in time to save him and his kidney. In the end he needed 4 surgeries in 12 days to clear the clots. He had to miss the entire first week of his first year in high school. During one surgery they revealed that Alex was born with a narrowing in the main vein from his organs back to his heart. That was what was causing all these problems. They were able to perform an angioplasty to partially widen the narrowing. It is not known when it will start to narrow again. He will probably need a stent someday and he will have to be on blood thinners for the rest of his life. He has had to give up contact sports and we worry about him falling or getting in a car wreck, but they were able to save this transplanted kidney.
Alex has recovered from all the illnesses and surgeries, and I am happy to report, he hasn’t had to go back to the hospital since August. His kidney function is stable at about 40% which is plenty to go on for several more years. HIs medications have been reduced to only the normal anti-rejection meds that all transplant patients must take. He is working hard to get good grades in school. He has traded being on the basketball team to being on the bowling team. He has embraced his love of music and is part of the percussion section for his high school marching band. He hopes to be well enough to travel with his school marching band to Dublin for the St Patrick’s Day parade next spring. I pray that he will be able to go. He dreams of being a normal kid.
For me, I keep myself sane by going for runs with friends and by myself almost every day. Getting outside in nature and with friends is a way I can feel like a normal person. I admire the Streakers out there who get it done no matter what the day brings. I hope to be able to run every day till Christmas and meet the goal as well.
Elym’s Health Journey: ‘Fight for Blood’
Elym is a curious and passively intelligent 13-year-old boy who is a gaming fanatic-Buffalo Bills fan. Elym has always stood out from his peers, and was known for his boundless energy and quick learning abilities. Elym learned to ride a bicycle without training wheels at just two years old. His parents have always described him as a go-getter and a fighter.
In the spring of last year, when Elym was just 12, he began participating in track and noticed an increase in fatigue. One evening during dinner, his parents observed a swelling on his cheek, prompting them to take him to Quickcare, where he was diagnosed with strep throat. After treatment with antibiotics, Elym initially seemed to recover. However, just a month and a half later, he experienced extreme exhaustion and loss of vision in his left eye, leading his parents to take him to the doctor.
While at the appointment, Elym’s primary care physician suggested to his mother over the phone that he might be experiencing a migraine; to take him home and have him rest. However, his mother trusted her instincts and consulted the physician’s assistant, who agreed that Elym should go to the emergency room (ER). After a swift admission facilitated by a family friend, Elym underwent extensive testing, which raised concerns about leukemia. Fortunately, after several days, doctors confirmed he did not have leukemia. Instead, Elym was diagnosed with severe aplastic anemia, a serious condition that affects bone marrow and blood cell production. Doctors have claimed this is idiopathic, meaning there is an unknown cause and this has no genetic factors. Elym’s parents believe this was caused by the strep virus and his body began fighting his good cells; basically confusion between the good and bad cells in his body.
In May, Elym underwent a stem cell transplant, and while his family remained hopeful, he required weekly transfusions of blood and platelets, along with a medication aimed at renewing his bone marrow. For a time, Elym’s blood levels improved while continuing to take weekly visits to the U of I, bringing moments of joy for both his medical team and family. However, these levels began to decline again, indicating that further intervention was necessary.
Doctors soon recommended a bone marrow transplant, which posed significant challenges. Despite efforts to find a donor through drives and the national bone marrow registry, Elym did not have a perfect match. His sister was only a 1% match, while his parents were both 50% matches, with his father being the more suitable donor due to gender compatibility.
Elym is scheduled to be admitted to the University of Iowa on January 3, 2025, for chemotherapy and radiation, with the transplant process starting on January 10. Both of his parents work full-time; his mother, Alisa, is a teacher, and his father, Yor works for EcoCare Supply. During this critical time, Alisa will take a leave of absence to care for Elym and their younger daughter Olivet, who is a creative, kind, and energetic 9 year old.
The Choun family truly appreciates any prayers and support during this challenging period. They also encourage individuals aged 18-40 who are not yet registered as donors to consider signing up with the National Donor registry to help individuals like Elym in need of a transplant. The website is: https://my.bethematch.org/s/join?language=en_US&joinCode=fightforblood
Alice Eileen Silver was born on November 4th, 2020. She entered this world with a sort of elegance to her. We fell in love all over again. She was sweet, calm and healthy – at least so we thought.
A little over a week after she was born, before getting ready for her night time feeding, she went cross-eyed. Nothing out of the ordinary for a newborn – but she quickly became rigged with stiffness and arching so significantly it was impossible to try to feed her. Her mouth was open in a way that you would’ve thought she wanted to be fed but seemed too frozen to try to swallow. This lasted for about 4 minutes until it just stopped, she instantly relaxed and looked as though nothing had just happened. Google immediately brought up the word seizure making time freeze for a split second before she was in her car seat and on the way to the emergency room. After a few hours the doctor said it was more than likely acid reflux and sent her home. Another week passed and it had happened again, this time caught on video. Four days later, same thing happened. After many frequent trips to the pediatrician, with videos and trying reflux medicines, with no improvements he referred her to a pediatric neurologist.
After meeting the neurologist and reviewing the videos, she wanted to do an hour long EEG to rule out any seizure activity. Alice was sent home to wait for the results. About an hour after being home and JUST getting all the “gunk” out of her hair from the EEG probes, Alice had a BIG episode – resulting in a call to 911 and an ambulance ride to the hospital. Once there she was admitted overnight. The one hour EEG results had come back normal so they decided to do a 24 hour EEG, MRI, and lots of blood work. Everything came back normal besides an elevated liver level, but nothing too concerning. There she was diagnosed as having Complex Partial Seizures and given anti-seizure medicine with a follow up in 4 weeks. There was hope that she could grow out of this.
4 weeks later – The neurologist suggested genetic testing. This would give a better look as to what is going on in Alice’s brain, and what is to come. A little over 20 days later we got our answer, something that made sense of what seemed inexplainable. “She has an ultra-rare neurological disorder, ATP1A3 – Alternating Hemiplegia of Childhood (AHC). She is one in a million, literally. There is no cure.” Another pause in time. The neurologist described everything that she knew about this extremely rare disease. She advised to join support groups and pages through social media to find comfort. Help spread awareness and hope for a cure.
Hope went from being a word filled with brightness and confidence, to being dark and weak. Mourning the loss of not only the future planned as a family, but the future dreamed of for Alice. Life after diagnosis for most AHC families is a battle. There are good days and bad days. Living in the unknown and having only hope to get you through each day.
AHC is a rare neurological disorder in which repeated, transient attacks of hemiplegia (paralysis of a portion of the body, including the face) occur, usually affecting one side of the body or the other, or both sides of the body at once. It ranges from simple numbness in an extremity to full loss of feeling and movement. The attacks may last for minutes, hours or even days and are normally relieved by sleep. The attacks of hemiplegia typically alternate from one side of the body to another, but it is not uncommon for one side to be more frequently affected, or for episodes to begin on one side, and then switch to the other. AHC episodes are often associated with triggers that precede or induce the attack. Triggers for AHC episodes may include–but are not limited to–environmental conditions (such as temperature extremes or odors), water exposure, physical activities (exercise, swinging), lights (sunlight, fluorescent bulbs), foods (chocolate, food dye), emotional response (anxiety, stress, fright), odors (foods, fragrances), fatigue, and medications.
AHC IS LIKE HAVING 7 DISORDERS AT ONCE
STROKE – EPILEPSY – CEREBRAL PALSY – PARKINSON’S – ADHD – AUTISM – ALZHEIMER’S
Children with AHC exhibit a wide range of symptoms. These include tonic attacks (lack of muscle tone), dystonic posturing (stiffening of extremities), ataxia (lack of coordination when performing voluntary movements), nystagmus (fast uncontrollable movements of the eyes that may be side to side, up and down, or rotary) and other ocular motor abnormalities (eye disorders), developmental delays, and seizures. Up to 50% of children with AHC develop “true seizures” sometime during the course of their illness.
Although the disorder is named of “childhood” those affected by AHC do not grow out of the disorder. The AHC episodes may change and sometimes even decrease in frequency as a child gets older. Every child with AHC is unique, and children can be severely or mildly affected. However, as children get older, developmental problems between episodes became more apparent. These developmental problems may include difficulties in fine and gross motor function, cognitive function, speech and language and even social interactions. There is developing evidence that AHC may cause ongoing mental and neurological deficits with a progressive course.
EARLY INTERVENTION FOR SUCH CHILDREN IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT TO HELP MAXIMIZE THEIR DEVELOPMENTAL ACHIEVEMENTS.
Although there is no proof that the disorder limits life expectancy, these children do appear more susceptible to complications such as aspiration, which can sometimes be life-threatening.
Alice is more than her diagnosis and she will be one of many to help change this world.
Maple Joy was born at the University of Iowa Hospital on March 2nd 2022 at 26 weeks gestation, weighing 13.5 ounces. When she was born, she was so small that it was a legitimate fear as to whether the breathing tube would fit down her throat or not. When we got word that it did fit, this was the first of many miracles that have made up Maple’s life thus far.
Maple spent one year and three months in the NICU getting stronger and growing. The hospital, being two hours from home, necessitated that our family move into the Ronald McDonald House in Iowa City to be close to her. My husband received special permission to work mostly remote and I started homeschooling Maple’s older siblings the best I could.
In that time Maple got a trach, a g-tube, and a ventilator, all of which she continues to rely on today. When we finally were able to bring Maple home, we started to utilize resources in the community to help Maple work on her mobility, feeding, and weaning off of her ventilator; she was making great strides! After being home for about six months, Maple’s stomach had gotten distended so we took her in to get it checked out, and we got some extremely hard news.
In January 2024 Maple got diagnosed with Hepatoblastoma (liver) cancer. At that point Maple’s cancer had already spread to all four quadrants of her liver and we knew that a transplant was in her near future. Due to Maple needing a transplant, she was transferred from a hospital in Des Moines to the University of Nebraska Medical Center’s PICU, where they specialize in pediatric solid organ transplants. Similarly to when Maple was inpatient in Iowa 
City, someone stayed with her at all times. This time, it made more sense for our family to keep Maple’s older sisters in school, so our family was split. Maple’s baby brother and I were with Maple in the hospital, and her dad and older sisters at home, during the week.
After doing some rounds of chemotherapy, Maple was not doing well and we knew she had a very short time to get well enough to undergo a transplant surgery and to find a donor. It was in the next week or so that we found out she had a living donor match; none other than one of her uncles! We were (and still are) so grateful for his selflessness.
In May Maple had her transplant. It was a very scary and eventful day, her heart had stopped for almost 10 minutes, but by God’s grace and hard work from the transplant team, she made it through! Since May Maple has spent time finishing her chemotherapy and healing. Finally, in August 2024, she returned to Des Moines. All said, she had spent 8 months in the hospital in Omaha.
Since being home, life has been a whirlwind. Maple has experienced a couple hospital admissions and many doctor appointments/therapies in Des Moines, Omaha, and Iowa City. We’re working at home to find our new normal, establish family rhythms again, and enjoy the blessing of our whole family being under the same roof! Many things have changed for our family over the last almost 3 years but our faith in God has not. We have so many things to be thankful for and witnessed so many prayers being answered; we are blessed.
If you would have asked me how to develop more patience before 2023, I would have probably told you meditation and yoga, neither of which I practice regularly.
In June of 2023, our youngest daughter Caroline was diagnosed with scoliosis after her well-child visit. As with any diagnosis, we were surprised and worried but optimistic. After having x-rays and meeting with the Orthopedic doctor, it was determined that Caroline would need to wear a Boston brace for 16-20 hours a day. Ok, another adjustment, but we’ll meet this challenge and work through it. The Orthopedic doctor routinely does a full spine MRI with a scoliosis diagnosis (tip to tail as she put it) just to make sure there isn’t a reason for the spine to curve. Caroline was sedated and had the MRI in August 2023. The Orthopedic doctor called me two days later and all I remember from the call was “your daughter’s brain stems aren’t where they should be (in her skull), they are in her spinal column.” I couldn’t remember what the diagnosis was but did also remember that if Caroline had any sudden symptoms like loss of bladder control, lethargy, severe pain in her legs or unable to use her limbs, we needed to go straight to the University of Iowa’s hospital. We met with Caroline’s Orthopedic doctor the next day to go over the MRI and get a better understanding of what was happening.
Caroline was diagnosed with Chiari Malformation type 1. Chiari Malformation is a condition in which brain tissue extends into the spinal canal. In
Caroline’s case, due to the disruption in flow of Cerebral Spinal Fluid (CSF), she had also developed syringomyelia or fluid-filled cysts in the spinal column. The thought was, the syringomyelia was causing Caroline’s scoliosis. We were referred to a Neurosurgery team at the University of Iowa to discuss treatment options.
Caroline’s neurosurgeon strongly recommended decompression surgery with a duraplasty. Decompression is a surgical procedure where a small piece of bone from the back of the skull is removed to relieve pressure on the brain and spinal cord and the duraplasty is patching the dura mater (the tough outer later layer of the brain) with a graft to create more space for the brain tissue. Big picture, Caroline’s brain was too big for her skull and it could cause a lot of issues without surgery. Surgery was scheduled for September and then rescheduled for November 21st, 2023 due to a head cold and fever in September.
Surgery went very well. No complications and her neurosurgeon was very happy with how everything went. We spent Thanksgiving 2023 at Stead Family Children’s Hospital. We couldn’t be more grateful for everyone there helping us during Caroline’s recovery. A five night hospital stay and we were released to recover at home. This included wearing a cervical collar or neck brace for the next three months.
By December 21st, 2023 we were back at Stead. Caroline had developed a headache that would not go away with anything, causing her to vomit for two days straight and lead to dehydration/Caroline pretty much sleeping/trying to sleep for two days. It was really scary because we had followed up with neurosurgery to let them know of how Caroline was doing but because she didn’t have a fever, infection wasn’t a concern. It very well could be viral or something completely unrelated to her decompression surgery based on her symptoms. We ended up at the ER at Blank Children’s hospital and they transferred Caroline by ambulance to Iowa City. Caroline was diagnosed with Chemical Meningitis. Essentially, the medications given to her intradurally during her surgery were causing her ventricles in her brain to swell due to sensitivity. No infection thankfully. Steroids did the trick and our girl was back to herself but very sad that the hospital did not serve Casey’s pizza (thanks steroids!!) We didn’t have to spend Christmas in the hospital! A couple nights in the hospital and she was discharged. Julianne did not join us this hospital stay
Life settled in January 2024. Our older daughter, Julianne, had to have an emergency appendectomy in February of 2024. Surgery went well and now the girls were able to trade surgery stories of how long they had to wait to eat before surgery, what they thought of waking up from surgery and comparing the number of surgeries each of them had. We were all hopeful we could get back to our regularly scheduled program.
In March 2024, Caroline started to experience the same symptoms of a headache that was so bad she couldn’t eat or would throw up anything she tried to eat. The next morning, Steven and I were trying to game plan what we should do, not wanting to wait as long as we did last time before having her seen. We were talking about heading back to Blank but Caroline chimed in that she didn’t want to be taken to Iowa City by ambulance again. My momma heart heard that and we decided that we would drive to Iowa City this time. Caroline and I drove to Iowa City and arrived without incident. We spent about 12 hours in the ER. Another MRI was done and it was determined the size of Caroline’s ventricles were slightly increased but not alarmingly so her neurosurgeon decided to admit her for observation. One of the hospital pediatricians talked with us about migraines and how to handle them if they happened. Caroline’s neurosurgeon was also a little concerned with her ventricles being increased in size so he sent her home on a medication that would help reduce the fluid in her brain and we would follow up with neurosurgery in a month to see how everything was going.
Three weeks later at the beginning of April 2024, we were back in the same spot, this time at Blank again. Another MRI showed that her ventricles had increased in size and they started talking about possible hydrocephalus. This time, Caroline was taken by air ambulance to Iowa City. Nothing was helping again. Morphine helped her sleep for the most part but she was in so much pain. That night was awful. You can’t give Morphine all the time. The next morning, her neurosurgeon came in and said “I have a solution!” Great! Please tell us how we are going to stop this cycle of pain, vomiting, dehydration and hospital admissions. He said, “We have to put in a Shunt.” The fluid in Caroline’s brain was not draining like it was supposed to and that’s why her ventricles were swelling causing the headaches and pain. Another brain surgery was needed. Her neurosurgeon said she’s very special because this was only the second time a patient had developed hydrocephalus after decompression surgery in his 20 some years of being a neurosurgeon. We knew she was special but these are not words you want to hear from the brain doctor. On April 4th, 2024, Caroline had her VP Shunt placed to drain the fluid to her stomach. Surgery went well, Caroline was surprised at how much easier it was to recover this time.
Four hospital stays in Iowa City and at that point we were averaging a trip to Iowa City once a month from August 2023-May 2024 for visits and follow-ups. As of writing this in November 2024, Caroline has done SO well. She has more energy than she did pre-surgery and she continues to grow and thrive. Right now, she still has to wear her cervical collar. Her neurosurgeon is concerned about the stability of her neck while she grows over the next couple of years. Caroline will have an MRI in May, this is the longest she’s gone between neurosurgery appointments and MRIs.
We’ve learned that chronic illness is big and can be overwhelming. Caroline will always have chiari and hydrocephalus. Her shunt is a medical device implanted in her brain and tubing runs to her stomach. Medical devices malfunction. The reality is, Caroline will have another surgery to address a shunt malfunction, we just hope it isn’t for a long time. We really hope she doesn’t need another decompression surgery, ever. She may need a spinal fusion at some point down the road but that’s why she continues to wear her cervical collar for the time being. Looking at her today, you wouldn’t know she has any medical conditions, if she wasn’t wearing her brace.
We don’t like to dwell on all of the chaos we’ve been through but writing this all out has helped honor the impact this time has had on our whole family. Thank you to everyone who streaks to help out others!!
Oh, and in the end, therapy has helped us all develop more patience and better coping strategies through these life events. 😊
Hailee’s journey is a testament to her resilience and strength. Diagnosed as an infant with CDKL5 disorder, vision impairment, and epileptic encephalopathy, Hailee has faced challenges that most cannot imagine. Despite frequent seizures and developmental delays, she continues to radiate joy and determination.
Her family and care team work tirelessly to support her needs, from managing her complex medical care to fostering her growth through therapies. They’ve even created unique ways to bring joy into her life. Understanding Hailee’s love for movement, her family set up a swing inside their home so she can experience the soothing motion year-round. Whether it’s swinging indoors or going on walks outside, Hailee’s happiness is always at the forefront of their minds.
As her condition has progressed, requiring her to be on a g-tube and oxygen, her family’s unwavering dedication has never faltered. They continue to adapt and innovate, ensuring Hailee has the best life possible. Their love, patience, and determination highlight the extraordinary power of family in overcoming even the most daunting obstacles.
Hailee’s story also underscores the importance of awareness, advocacy, and research for rare genetic conditions. Her journey, though marked by immense challenges, is a powerful reminder of the impact of love and perseverance. She inspires everyone who knows her and shines as a beacon of hope and strength for others facing similar paths.
In 2023, age 49, my family physician told me it was time for my first colonoscopy. I was too busy with work, and put it off twice. I finally completed the Cologuard home test. A few weeks later, I received a text stating that the results were positive. I handed my phone to my son, age 29, and said “positive isn’t good right?”
My first colonoscopy only lasted a few minutes because they quickly encountered a large tumor and were unable to move the camera past that point. A few weeks later, I had a sigmoid resection and 15 lymph nodes removed. The pathology came back positive for colon cancer in the tumor and two of the closest lymph nodes. Within two weeks, I started chemotherapy. The hope was that the surgery caught and removed all of the cancer cells, and that chemotherapy was a proactive measure just in case a few little cancer cells got away and were floating around.
The chemotherapy regimen that I was on made me so sick that I was unable to work. During the summer of 2023 I was hospitalized twice for dehydration. Once the chemo was over, I was convinced that the cancer was gone and I was moving on with life.
Before the Cologuard test I had purchased tickets to go to Scotland for my 50th birthday. About five weeks after my last chemotherapy treatment we were off to Scotland where I had local whiskey on Loch Ness on my 50th birthday. That was a long time dream of mine. Twelve-year-old Kelly thought it was very cool. Later that month, my CT and PET scan showed no sign of disease. I thought that meant disease-free. I was wrong.
In April 2024, my CT scan showed a 3-inch cyst on my right ovary. I was scheduled for surgery at the end of June. The surgeon discovered five additional lesions, and pathology confirmed that the cancer had metastasized to my abdomen. Within three weeks, I started the next course of chemotherapy.
The biggest emotional blow happened when I asked the oncologist about “the data.” It’s impossible not to cry when you hear, “If there were 100 individuals in exactly your position, 50 would be alive in 4 years.”
At the time of writing this, I have finished 8 of 12 rounds in this chemotherapy regimen. I will undergo HIPEC surgery at Nebraska Medical Center in February, where the surgeon will systematically inspect every organ and inch of digestive tract below my diaphragm, removing any questionable tissue that he encounters. Then, a heated chemotherapy flush will be administered to attack any remaining cancer cells before closing. I will have an ostomy for three months while everything heals.
I still have big plans and a lot of things that I want to do in this life. As a teacher, adventurer, conservationist, and woman who believes in the value and diversity of people, there are still talents to explore, people to love, and light to share.
Thank you for taking time to read about my journey so far. If you are interested in following my journey more closely, you can find updates on Facebook at Kelly’s Health Updates.
Hi, my name is Ally Fortmann. I am very blessed to have been nominated for Streakers by an amazing supporter. I have always had a lot of cheerleaders in my corner despite my “I will be fine” mentality. I work as a paraeducator in an elementary school and I love my job and the people I work with. Outside of family, they have been some of my biggest cheerleaders.
A little about my family. I myself come from a fairly big family, I have three older sisters and one older brother. I also still have both of my parents. I have been married for almost 18 years to my high school sweetheart, together we have two daughters, Ella (17) and Jovie (14). We also have a very energetic dog named Flash. In our house we really love Christmas, or at least I do! That is how Jovie got her name, I love the movie Elf! We love snowflakes, twinkling Christmas lights, and just the pure joy that the season brings. I think a lot of this love for Christmas came from my own mom.
My family is the most important thing to me. Since my husband and I have been through this all together since before we were even married, we kind of feel like professionals. Our main goal has always been to keep things as normal as possible for our girls. My sister, Beth, has always been a huge help with that. At the drop of a hat she will be there to get them from school or run them to an activity. She is also always willing to take a turn sitting in the hospital with me so that Adam can be there for important things for the girls and we try not to miss a thing. They are truly what has kept me going and pursuing answers even when it isn’t easy. I am undeniably extremely lucky to have the support that I do.
To keep this as short as possible, I will just say that I have had heart arrhythmia issues most of my life with my first surgery being at just 19 years old. At the age of 23, I ended up with a dual chamber pacemaker. That pacemaker battery was replaced and I had the leads extracted and replaced. A lot of this seems pretty normal, but what I have learned about my heart and my body is that it adapts to new things just to continue throwing me curveballs.
The past few years seem to have been filled with new issues at every turn. In September of 2022 I had my pacemaker leads replaced. On December 7, 2022 I woke up and my heart rate was stuck at a very high rate and would not go down. From then until July 2023 I was cardioverted (shocked back into rhythm) four times and had two ablations to fix both the typical atrial flutter and the atypical atrial flutter.
All was good as could be until May 2024. While at work one day I noticed my arm going numb and turning colors. After a few doctor appts and unpleasant tests, I was diagnosed with bilateral venous thoracic outlet syndrome. That means there is a vein being compressed under the first rib on both sides of my body. To alleviate the compression, they suggest doing a first rib resection. We started with the left side first, a rib resection and angioplasty was done on July 2, 2024. We did not know how complicated this would end up being for me in particular.
On July 16, I had to go have an ultrasound and they found blood clots in my subclavian vein. They attempted to manage the blood clots with blood thinners and compression sleeves, but the real culprit was the wires from my pacemaker taking up space in that vein. Since I am pacemaker dependent, we couldn’t just remove it and we couldn’t move it to the right side because I will eventually have the rib resection on the right side. We discussed how there is such a thing as a leadless pacemaker that is inserted directly into your heart. At the time not many providers around here were trained to do it, but we were discussing options and it turned out that my surgeon was getting trained soon. I really felt we were headed in the right direction and they were keeping an eye on things in the meantime.
On Friday, September 27 I went in for an angioplasty to create some more space in the vein and buy us some time until I could get a new pacemaker. Two days later, on Sunday, I ended up in the ER and within an hour they knew I had multiple blood clots, one a complete blockage, and was being admitted. I had a venogram with angioplasty and they started tPA. The next day that was removed and they did an angioplasty again. That night they told me they found a surgeon to put in my new pacemaker and that would be happening the next day. I had my original pacemaker and wires extracted and I now have a new one placed directly into the atrium of my heart. I got released from the PCU on October 2nd. They did find another clot a few weeks later and since the wires were no longer an issue, I was sent straight to the hospital to get a stent placed.
The next step will be to do the rib resection on the right side. It isn’t an easy surgery to recover from, but I hope that the complications are less since there is no pacemaker over there.
After having the majority of the month of October off of work, I miss work and cannot wait to get back to normal. I want to have the energy back to do all things that I love to do. I am still young-ish and healthy in a lot of other ways, so I know with a little more fight, I will get there!
A routine dental visit has turned into a nightmare. Brigette took Coralie (8) and Kimber (5) for a scheduled teeth cleaning. A very small abnormality was seen in Kimber’s cheek at this dental appointment.
Thankfully, our dentist was adamant that she be seen at the children’s hospital immediately, making several calls on our behalf to get Kimber seen as soon as possible. The small bump grew rapidly and our biggest fears were confirmed.
Minutes before welcoming our third child into this world, Kimber’s cancer diagnosis came through on Justin’s phone. After a few hours of being with his wife and new baby, Justin rushed Kimber to the Children’s Hospital to do scans and biopsies.
As of right now, the treatment plan is 42 weeks of chemo. We must travel 130 miles each way to the Children’s Hospital every Friday. She cannot return to school, church, gymnastics, or any large social gathering for fear of infection.
Due to her treatment plan, Brigette has had to take a leave of absence from school as a teacher to care for Kimber and McCabe at home. McCabe is able to go to Justin’s parents’ house on Fridays while Kimber is receiving her chemotherapy. Brigette and I greatly appreciate everyone’s support and prayers during these difficult times.
Ashley is a wife (to her supportive husband, Mike), a mother of three amazing boys (Bennett, Baylor, and Bowen), a loved nurse and pediatric outreach coordinator, and a wonderful friend to so many people! This is her story:
On July 23rd I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Telling our three boys was the hardest thing we have ever done. Mike did a phenomenal job explaining my diagnosis, as I was unable to get words out at the time. Hearing the words, “Mom has breast cancer” as a 14, 12, and 4 year old I’m sure was terrifying. We have been very open and honest with the boys, which I think helps them process.
On August 26th I had a double mastectomy. During surgery the doctors discovered that the cancer had spread to my lymph nodes. I started chemo in September and I should finish if all goes well in January. Three weeks after chemo is done I will also have radiation for 5 weeks, Monday-Friday. The next step after radiation will be a full hysterectomy due to my cancer being estrogen fed.
I am a PALB2 gene carrier. I get breast MRI’s and mammograms alternating once a year…every six months I get a test and a physical exam. I FOUND THIS…not technology…ME…by a self breast exam. Early detection can save your life.
Ashley
Pat turned 50 in 2021 and was told that it was time to start yearly colonoscopies. Pat went in for his first colonoscopy the summer of 2022 and was told that he had a large tumor in his colorectum that was likely cancerous. A biopsy confirmed this suspicion and Pat began a journey of cancer treatment immediately.
At the time he was diagnosed with a stage 3 tumor that was not believed to have metastasized (spread beyond the original site). Pat worked with doctors at Mission Cancer in Des Moines to receive a comprehensive treatment plan which included chemotherapy, radiation, and surgery. His treatment began the summer of 2022.
In April of 2023, Pat had surgery to remove the tumor. During surgery, it was discovered that the cancer had metastasized to Pat’s abdomen and the lining of his diaphragm. Pat’s cancer progressed to a stage IV diagnosis. Pat began chemotherapy again. He was accepted as a patient at The Mayo Clinic in the summer of 2023.
Pat qualified for a fairly new treatment for cancer of the peritoneal cavity called HIPEC. He received that treatment in August of 2023. He returned to Mayo in November of 2023 and found that his cancer had spread to his lungs, abdomen, and into his diaphragm muscle. Pat had surgery to remove all visible cancer tumors and the right side of his diaphragm replacing it with Gortex and mesh.
Pat will spend the next 6 weeks healing from surgery before starting chemotherapy again in January 2024. Pat is supported and loved by his family. Laura is the principal of Heritage Elementary in Ankeny. They have three kids, Jake, Payton, and Paige who are all going into the medical profession. This cancer diagnosis has changed many things for their family. What it has not changed is their faith in God and their positive outlook and sense of hope for the future.
Hadlee was born on March 2, 2023. From the very beginning, she has always kept us on our toes. She was born three and half weeks early and was breech. Thankfully, she passed all her newborn screening and testing. We were able to bring our sweet girl home to meet her big sister. Everything just felt right.
At about 7 weeks old, Hadlee contracted a common virus. She had a little loss of appetite and was spitting up more but we figured she was just getting over the virus. From the beginning of May until the end of August, we had been to countless doctor appointments, weight checks, feeding therapy, physical therapy, chiropractor, GI specialist, you name it. We tried different reflux medicines, as well as completing blood tests and upper and lower GI studies. We found out she might be sensitive to dairy, so we eliminated that. We also found out that she had a delayed gastric emptying, so we started medication to help with that. We started a stool softener, to help her have more consistent bowel movements. All of that didn’t fix the problem. The vomiting was getting worse, projectile vomiting almost every feed with little to no weight gain.
We were admitted to Blank Children’s Hospital on August 23 for further testing and to try to figure out the feeding issue. Friday, August 25 our whole world was turned upside down. Hadlee had an MRI done to check everything in the brain. We thought it was just another box to check off. That afternoon the neurologist came in to inform us that there was an abnormality in her brain, specifically with the white matter. She was diagnosed with Leukodystrophy, which is a rare genetic disorder. This disorder affects the white matter in her brain, interfering with normal vital functioning such as eating/digestion, swallowing, physical movement, breathing, etc. We ran additional genetic testing on her, my husband, and myself to determine which type of leukodystrophy she has and which gene is affected.
About a week later the results came back with the specific diagnosis. Hadlee was diagnosed with Hypomyelinating Leukodystrophy Type 3. On September 18, we went to meet with a metabolic geneticist at the University of Iowa Stead Family Children’s Hospital to learn more about her specific type. We found out that the first case reported of this type was in 2010. Since then, there have been 28 total reported cases. Hadlee is the only one from the United States with this diagnosis and the only one in the world with this specific variant. She is definitely one of a kind!
Our big question was what life would be like for Hadlee and what treatments, clinical trials, or anything we can to help her. Because of the rarity of the diagnosis, there are so many unknowns. Currently, there are no treatments and no clinical trials being done for her specific diagnosis. Her brain is producing myelin but not at a fast enough pace to keep up and older myelin is also disappearing. Her life expectancy is also unknown, it could be as little as one year, maybe longer, but she’s not expected to live a full decade. The only thing we can do for her is try to treat symptoms as they come. We were also told not to expect her to develop or do anything more than she is doing right now. We should hope but not expect. This means she may never hold her head up for extended periods of time, roll over, sit on her own, stand, walk, talk, use her arms and hands purposefully, etc.
At the end of September we were admitted back to Blank because the projectile vomiting was getting worse, which is the most common symptom of hypomyelinating leukodystrophy. Hadlee had a NJ tube placement, which bypasses the stomach and goes straight into the small intestines. She still vomits, wretches, and gags but she’s not losing her nutrition and has been able to gain consistent weight. The plan is to switch to a GJ tube, which will be a permanent tube within the next month or two.
Hadlee is a strong fighter and has been fighting her whole life. She has the most peaceful and sweet demeanor despite all the setbacks she has endured. She is slowly getting stronger and we are praying and believing that will continue. She loves having her big sister play with her and cheer her on. She is so incredibly loved and has touched so many people in her little life. We are completely honored to be her parents and pray every single day for a full healing miracle here on earth!
Follow Hadlee’s journey via her CaringBridge site: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/hadleelippert
Hi Streakers!
We are the Stone family- Brandon, Morgan, Jude and Wren. We live in Carlisle, Iowa where Jude and Wren are in 4th and 1st grades at the elementary schools. We are a pretty typical midwestern family. Both kids enjoy their schools, friends, and are active in all the activities. Morgan works as a Social Worker serving on Heartland AEA’s Challenging Behavior and Autism Team. Brandon is a Realtor with ReMax Precision and a drummer for the Iowa based band, The Nadas.
Brandon and I enjoy volunteering for different community organizations including, Hometown Pride, Carlisle Library Board, different school committees, and Carlisle Schools Foundation. Brandon has been a volunteer coach for many of our kids’ sports activities. In addition to these activities, he has enjoyed spreading his love of drumming to students through different school marching bands, and lessons. Prior to his diagnosis, he was very physically active with running and mountain biking. Our family also enjoys traveling and experiencing new adventures together.
On March 15, 2023 while on a family vacation visiting Morgan’s sister’s family in Ft. Collins, Colorado, Brandon was diagnosed with Stage 4 Pancreatic Cancer. While this diagnosis was devastating, we were very lucky to be surrounded by our family that could help us navigate the news and take care of our children. Brandon was discharged on March 17, 2023 and we began our journey back to Iowa. While traveling, Brandon developed infections and the temporary stents that had been placed in Colorado had crimped. Again, God was looking out for us, as we were surrounded by not only family, but very close friends as we began a 4 day stay in Omaha. Brandon had the temporary stents removed and had a permanent stent placed. He was released on March 22 (Morgan’s 39th birthday). Brandon had his first real oncology appointment with Dr. Lukenbill at Mission Cancer and Blood on March 23rd, where a chemo plan was immediately implemented along with genetic testing. During an “off chemo” week, we received genetic information. This testing indicated that Brandon has a germline (genetically inherited) BRCA 2 mutation. We also were able to get an opinion at Mayo. They echoed what the oncologist in Colorado and what our Oncologist indicated. Due to the metastasis and location of the tumor, his disease is incurable, but treatable. In the world of cancer, the more genetic mutations the better. BRCA 2 is a widely researched mutation and has allowed us to treat this disease more aggressively. Brandon was able to switch to a platinum based chemo in the late spring. This was extremely intense and had him in the infusion room for a full day then coming home with a continuous chemo pump for 46 hours, before having it removed and then being able to rest for a week and half before starting the next round. We continued this process for about 5 months. The good news is that this treatment protocol worked really well and we saw a great reduction in both the pancreatic masses and the liver masses. Brandon then qualified for a trial to test how well immunotherapy works with the standard treatment of care maintenance drug, Lynparza. Brandon was placed in the control group and just received Lynparza. Unfortunately, on 11/7/23 we were informed that this drug is not working with his cancer as predicted and his liver tumors have begun to grow again. So, we have had to stop the Lynparza and will restart the same chemo regimen as before. This will occur for 6-9 months before we try a different route for maintenance. In the meantime we are researching hospitals and programs that see high volume Pancreatic Cancer patients with BRCA 2 mutations.
We are so appreciative of the Streaker family. This is a program that we’ve participated in off and on throughout the years. It is very humbling to be a recipient this year. We are thankful to Kristen Drew for nominating us, and for the Streaker Nation for not only the monetary support, but especially for the spiritual and emotional support. As you can imagine this has taken a very emotional toll on our family. Our Streaker team name is “Kicking Cancer’s Pancreass” and we would love your support! We would also love for you to follow along on our Caringbridge page.
Much love,
Morgan, Brandon, Jude and Wren Stone
Lauren (aka Lolo or Fishy’s) Story…
We believe Lauren’s story started when she was just 9 years old and we brought her to Urgent Care for what we thought was strep throat. After determining she didn’t have strep, the doctor did a complete blood work up and called us right away to tell us to go straight to the ER. He told us all of her blood counts were low: white blood cells, red blood cells, platelets, etc. After many appointments at Blank, along with a bone marrow biopsy and a trip to Iowa City to meet with a Rheumatologist, they were not able to find the cause of her low blood counts and enlarged spleen. But the good news was that she was feeling good and had no complaints, she wasn’t tired or lethargic, and felt great. So, they had us come back every 6 months to check her blood again for the next 7 years. The counts continued to be low, but since she felt good all those years, the digging for answers fizzled out.
Then everything changed on March 21, 2023. Lauren had gotten her wisdom teeth out on March 16, and had been taking liquid Ibuprofen for the pain. But on that Tuesday, after school and all her activities she passed out waiting for her dinner, and was as white as a ghost. My first call was to the oral surgeon, however during the call Lauren threw up a massive amount of blood, so we rushed her right to the ER. When we got there, her hemoglobin was at 4.3! She was admitted to the hospital and required 7 blood transfusions just to get her hemoglobin back to around 10, as well as a unit of platelets before they could do a scope. During this hospital stay, the GI scope indicated that her stomach had erosions on it that they concluded were a side effect of the liquid Ibuprofen. So, after 6 days in the hospital they sent us home with the directions of no Ibuprofen ever again, and set her up for 4 weeks of iron infusions to keep building up her supply.
Cut to 3 months later on Father’s Day, June 18, and Lauren was at the ballfields with us watching her sister play softball, and she passed out again. The ambulance was called and rushed her to the hospital. They sent her home after 5 hours, claiming that she had a “fainting” problem. She hadn’t had any Ibuprofen, so that theory was blown out of the water. But as soon as we got home at midnight, she threw up a massive amount of blood again. We took her to Blank Hospital the next morning, as the ER nurse from the first hospital told us not to bring her back down since her counts weren’t low enough for a blood transfusion.
After 4 days at Blank, 5 more blood transfusions, and another GI scope later, they found those erosions from March had now turned into varices in the stomach and lower esophagus. Throughout all of this, Lauren continued to feel well enough to participate in her studio dance recital, dance for competition dance at Nationals, complete her softball season for AHS, and attend a 4 day dance team camp. She also received 4 more weeks of iron infusions until the end of July.
At the beginning of August, Lauren had her 3rd GI scope and the results showed that those varices in her stomach and esophagus were still present. So the doctors from Blank determined that she needed to be seen by a team of GI and Hepatology specialists at the University of Nebraska Medical Center in Omaha. On August 31, she had an MRI of her liver. The medical team confirmed that she had cirrhosis of the liver of unknown origin, as well as two lesions that they believed to be HCC (Hepatocellular Carcinoma). The team of specialists met to discuss her test results and found it was best to move forward with a liver transplant.
The team of specialists believed that a new liver would do the following: alleviate the portal vein hypertension in the liver, stop the GI bleeds since the varices will go away, bring her blood counts back up, and restore her spleen to normal size. Lastly, a new liver meant they could remove the potentially cancerous lesions and severe scarring from the cirrhosis. They were not able to do a biopsy of the liver at that time as it was too risky to go in there and start poking around.
So, on Thursday, Oct. 12 Lauren was placed on the National Organ donor list with a MELD score of 40 (the range is 6-40). She was able to go see the long-anticipated Taylor Swift movie on Oct. 14, and 2 hours after we got home, we got the call in the middle of the night that there was a liver available for Lauren! So, we got all packed up and headed to Omaha to wait for the surgery.
She had a 7 hour surgery on Oct. 16 and spent the next 4 days in the PICU there at Nebraska Med in Omaha. The doctors and nurses there were amazing and took great care of Lauren! She then moved to a regular hospital room on the same floor and stayed there for 5 more days. She was then discharged from the hospital on Oct. 24. This was a whole week earlier than we had expected.
We did have to stay in Omaha for the next 9 days so they could draw labs on her every other day, and meet with her transplant team every week. During one of these appointments the pathology report came back on her liver, and we were ecstatic to hear that the lesions on her liver were not cancerous!! Also, the scarring on the liver was not cirrhosis. Instead all of the scarring and lesions that they saw were NRH (Nodular Regenerative Hyperplasia). Still a very rare and dangerous liver disease. So along with the portal hypertension she had, it was very critical for that liver to get replaced to prevent any more life-threatening GI bleeds.
So, now she has surpassed all expectations and her new liver is loving its new home! Her blood counts are on the rise, and the doctors are very happy with her progress so far. She will continue to recover safely at home for 2-3 more weeks, and then she should be able to start going back to school. She is at high risk for infection since she has to be on anti-rejection meds for life in order for her body to not attack the new liver. So her immune system will be lower than normal. She will need to be extra careful, avoid large crowds of people, and wear a mask around others for the next few months.
We are so grateful for Holiday Streakers for choosing to help support Lauren and our family! This has been a long, hard road, and it will continue for quite some time as she will need to have frequent blood work done, as well as appointments back in Omaha. She is a true warrior and has done it all with a positive attitude and a smile on her face! She truly amazes us all! So, we thank all of you for streaking and supporting all of the families selected this year! Go Team Lauren’s Army!
Here is Lauren’s CaringBridge link if you would like to follow her journey: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/laurenfisher
The Fisher Family: Brian, Sarah, Lauren (16), Morgan (13), Mackenzie (10), and dog, Mayzie (3)
A personal narrative refers to a story from one’s life or experiences. This is certainly a story I did not expect to be telling.
I am a third grade teacher at Ashland Ridge Elementary in the Ankeny Community School district. The past 12 years have been filled with classrooms full of students I absolutely love and adore. Being a teacher is what I was meant to be, along with a mother. Ellerson, Delaney and Kerigan have made me an incredibly proud mother. Ellerson and Delaney, are sophomores at the University of Iowa. Ellerson, the oldest by 3 minutes, is headed in the business direction. She loves all things books, is organized, and her smile is seriously the best. Delaney has applied to the engineering program. She will always battle for her mom/girls/women. Delaney is the one always jumping in to help with dishes or laundry. She’s got the biggest heart. Kerigan, who is a junior at Centennial in Ankeny, is our social butterfly and friend to everyone. Kerigan loves her friends, dessert, soccer, and sharing hilarious tik toks. I am a wife to Eric of 21 years, my high school sweetheart. He is my best friend, he is hard-working, he is humble, and he makes us laugh all of the time. I could not do this thing called life without him! I am also a daughter, a sister, co-worker, and friend. I am so very fortunate to have all of these titles. 
My cancer journey began at the beginning of this September, 2023, with what I thought was a pulled muscle/s in my back. This transitioned into what we thought might be a digestive issue. After some tests and time, I eventually ended up in the ER with intense back and stomach/pelvic pain. This was September 21st, just 2 days after my 44th birthday. CTs, a GI scope and colonoscopy, as well as biopsies, over the next 4 to 5 days, confirmed I had colon cancer. With only a few symptoms mentioned above and no history of any cancer in my family, to say this was a shock would be an understatement.
Since my confirmed diagnosis, stage 4 colon cancer, I have worked closely with experts at Mercy Mission and Blood in Des Moines, as well as Mayo’s Oncology department in Rochester. I receive chemo every 2 weeks and will follow up with CT’s every 2-3 months, then re-evaluate treatment. My treatments have given me the opportunity to spend more time with my husband, family and friends. I fill up my time by working on puzzles, making friendship bracelets, coloring, reading, cross-stitching, and taking short walks. A goal of mine is to learn to play the piano that my grandmother passed down to me years ago. One thing I miss dearly is my classroom, our students, and co-workers. I have been fortunate enough to visit and it made my heart just explode with joy!
I am thankful for a supportive and knowledgeable medical team and a strong group of friends and family that have helped me along this journey thus far. People of the community of Ankeny, and my hometown of LaPorte City and Dysart, have also shown up for me. Additionally, I appreciate the Holiday Streakers group of supporters and will put on as many miles as I can with my family to win this battle! I will fight to enjoy all of the precious moments we are given. A special thank you to Kristin Day, Pari Brown, and Brandon Hargens for this nomination. These three are some of the best friends a girl could ask for.
My personal mission statement states; play hard, work harder, and have fun! Remembering this and to enjoy the present will propel me in this fight of my life!
Luke is an example of true strength, courage and determination. He is the most wonderful father, husband, son, brother, friend and teacher. Luke has many lifelong friends and a love of all sports, especially football, basketball and golf. Luke graduated from St. Thomas University, where he played wide receiver on the football team. He later found his true calling to be a teacher and gained a second degree from Iowa State University. Luke will be more than happy to talk with you for hours about any sports subject and somehow always knows the stats of every game and player! I am Sarah, and I am very blessed to be married to Luke. I work at Heartland AEA and like Luke, I also share a passion for education. We have three young children: Hollie (10), Mia (8), and Jordan (3). Hollie and Mia are very busy with school, dance, softball, voice lessons, and basketball. Jordan is busy with daycare and everything an active three year old can get himself into!
Our lives were proceeding very happily until one day in December of 2021, Luke experienced a strange but severe pain on his left side. Luke went to the emergency room and after many tests, a possible mass was seen in his liver. After an MRI of his liver, 15 tumors were seen. His doctors said these were likely from a colon tumor that had metastasized to the liver. A colonoscopy and biopsy were then done and a large cancerous colon tumor was found. This was a total shock to all of us as this was suddenly stage 4 colon cancer. Luke had just turned 40 and has always been a healthy and strong guy; not to mention no family history of colon cancer. It was devastating, came out of nowhere and clearly had been there, silently spreading for a very long time.
In the mix of this news, our son Jordan had been diagnosed a few months earlier with Epilepsy so we navigated that throughout this as well (thankfully, he is doing very well). We were told Luke’s cancer was too advanced to allow surgical treatment. The doctors said their goal was to keep Luke alive for a year if possible and then hopefully reassess from there. We began the terrifying fight and Luke started heavy doses of Chemotherapy every other week, which consisted of 5-6 agents over a course of 7 hours and then a chemo pump that he brought home for another 46 hours. Luke chose to do his chemo Friday through Sunday. His heart is with his students and it’s so important to keep things as normal as possible when he can. Throughout this storm, everyone was amazed with Luke’s strength and remarkable attitude. Luke teaches 6th grade at Westridge Elementary in West Des Moines and our girls are proud to attend there as well. He also is a mentor to several young men that he has coached in basketball and on several occasions Luke will stay after school to chat with former students who come back to say hello to him. The students and staff at Westridge have supported Luke and supplied him with tremendous love and encouragement. You can often see students and staff wearing “Our Positive Warrior” shirts in the hallways. Much has been done by many giving and wonderful people to help Luke in his fight. We are forever grateful and it’s truly what gets us through this journey! We enjoy making gifts for the local cancer center with our kids and hosting an annual golf tournament with friends that benefit local families impacted by cancer. As a family we have enjoyed giving back as well and found that connection and community is good for the soul!
Thankfully, after 6 months of this intense chemo that Luke was on, the tumors were not spreading and they had gotten much smaller. In some cases, they had almost disappeared. I’ll never forget his oncologist texting him the night of his scan as we waited anxiously for our appointment the following day saying, “things look better.” We both just had tears of relief in that moment. We prayed Luke could see Jordan go to Kindergarten. It was decided to continue the chemo for an additional 2 months. But now what were we to do? This was an unexpected result and we were feeling cautiously hopeful. We sought out second and third opinions. The doctors said with Luke’s encouraging Chemotherapy response, it was time to think about surgery to remove the cancerous colon tumor, the cancerous liver tumors and biopsy surrounding lymph nodes. To make a very long story short, this was not a surgery that could be performed anywhere but a Cancer Center. The decision was made to go to the MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston, Texas. The main issue was the many Liver tumors as they would require removing 70 percent of Luke’s liver. The liver does regenerate but it cannot do so if too much of it is removed. A lot of factors had to fall into place in order to have his liver resection, including losing 30 pounds, but Luke was determined. All in all, 3 liver surgeries were performed by some of the best liver cancer surgeons in the world. Luke’s longest liver surgery lasted 8 hours. Only 30 percent of Luke’s liver remained afterwards but his liver thankfully did regenerate as the doctors said it would. The colon surgery was performed about two months later to remove the colon tumor. The time period for all of this surgery was roughly 3 months and Luke handled it so courageously. In true Luke fashion, he got back to his normal work routine as soon as possible with a smile on his face. Over the course of his treatment, 4 other procedures were also needed. As an unfortunate side story to all of this, I managed to fall and break my ankle shortly after Luke’s liver surgery which required a surgery of my own. I was getting around on a scooter when going with Luke back and forth to MD Anderson. When it rains it pours and boy were we a sight to see!
Luke’s progress at this point was now followed closely by MD Anderson Cancer Center mainly and trips were made there every 3 months for blood tests, body scans and appointments. At his 3 month follow-up scan post liver surgery and colon surgery, Luke showed N.E.D. (no evidence of disease)! We got to celebrate this miracle for about 3 months until a blood test, called CTDNA, had found a very slight trace of the cancer’s DNA in Luke’s blood. All his scans were still clear at that point though. After careful consideration, Luke and his doctors decided to treat the trace that was detected in his blood by placing him in a new trial for 6 months. This would require Luke to take 8 immunotherapy pills daily and return to MD Anderson every 28 days for a chemo infusion and testing. Halfway through the trial, his CT and PET scan unfortunately revealed several cancerous tumors in his peritoneum. (The peritoneum could be described as a type of sack that contains most of your abdominal organs). Luke was unfortunately removed from trial and placed back on intense chemo every other week like before. He continued to teach and thankfully was able to get his chemo locally while continuing testing and scans in Texas.
We just returned from MD Anderson this past week and learned that Luke’s tumors are shrinking in his peritoneum but there is a new spot in his liver. During this trip, we were also overwhelmed with renewed hope to learn that the team of surgeons plan to do a diagnostic procedure to assess the extent of his disease. If this procedure does not show any surprises, Luke will undergo another major surgery in Texas. This surgery will mainly consist of removing all the tumors in the peritoneum, a possible resection of his liver to take care of the new spot there, and HIPEC (heated chemo that they let sit in the stomach area for a lengthy time). This will all take place within the next month. In order for family to care for Luke and be close to medical care as he recovers, we have rented an apartment close to MD Anderson while Luke undergoes these next steps. Hopefully Luke can return home after the New Year! How about ringing in 2024 with a renewed fight and zest on life? We initially thought this surgery would not be possible so we have many different emotions, ranging from gratitude to fear. We know that anything is possible and hope continues to get us through each and every hurdle we face. The kids and I will celebrate the holiday at home while Luke recovers in Texas. His strength is incredible and we are forever grateful for his team of doctors!
Luke will continue his journey with the support of his family, friends, school community and many others that we know are also cheering him on and praying. We are so thankful to be a recipient of Holiday Streakers this year. We appreciate everyone who nominated our family and everyone who contributes and participates in this wonderful event!
Visit Luke’s Caringbridge Site: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/lukemiller1
Site Name: lukemiller19
My name is Tricia, I’m a wife, mother of 3, former 2nd grade teacher, and for the past year, a cancer patient. I was diagnosed with T-Cell Lymphoblastic Lymphoma in November 2022. The doctors worked quickly to develop an aggressive treatment protocol that would last 2 years. Despite initially getting me into remission within a matter of months, the cancer spread into my right trigeminal nerve and other lymph nodes.
This disease has already taken so much from me. I have horrible neuropathy and can not walk unassisted. In a matter of days, I will be receiving a stem cell transplant from a donor who is a 10/10 match! This starts the clock over, and I will have to stay at the hospital or in their recovery housing for 106 days starting end of November). Saying goodbye to my kids was the hardest part of this entire process. I am determined to see them grow up and eventually update my status from cancer patient to cancer survivor.
Hi, I am Stephanie (Stevie) Rowley. I was diagnosed with stage four Complex Regional Pain Syndrome about 8 months ago. CRPS is a broad term describing excess and prolonged pain and inflammation that can occur following an injury or other medical event. CRPS has taken so much from me. Eight months ago I was walking, running, playing Pickleball, and working in our local hospital as a master’s level social worker. I now use a cane and/or walker. I no longer can work which has been devastating for me. I loved my job.
I literally have no idea what my future holds. There is no cure for this disease. It is so expensive to treat CRPS due to the fact that insurance doesn’t cover treatment. One of the many treatments that was recommended was Ketamine infusions at a staggering cost of a minimum of $100K and ten days in the hospital. This is all out of pocket. It also only helps with 50% of individuals who suffer from this disease.
This disease isn’t for the faint of heart. It is devastating and individuals with this rare disease truly suffer. I never imagined my life would change so drastically in one day. I always say; “tomorrow is a new day.” I definitely take it moment by moment as things change quickly in my body.
Joe is an outgoing, family-o
riented, caring individual with a strong faith. He will be 40 years old in November. Prior to his medical emergency, Joe worked as an associate at Summit Middle School in Johnston, IA, where he was known as the autism whisperer. Joe’s large size, booming voice, and gentle personality were a winning combination when dealing with anxious youth and he was well loved by students and coworkers alike. Joe’s family calls him superman because he isn’t supposed to be here—he has beaten death at least twice—but despite all the medical struggles and setbacks, he just keeps pushing through. He has a loving wife, Nicole, and an 8 year-old son, Nate. Nicole has been Joe’s primary caregiver since his injury, and has made tremendous sacrifices in order to keep their family together. She recently started work at the airport part time, after a four year work hiatus in order to be available for Joe. Nicole battles depression, anxiety, PTSD & caregiver burnout from the trauma of Joe’s injury as well as the added responsibility as a caregiver to a dependent adult and their child. These past four years have not been easy, but she rallies around Joe, Nate, her family and friends. Nate is a typical 8 year-old who has shown resilience in the face of his father’s medical battles and losses. Nate was just four years old when Joe collapsed in front of him and was hospitalized with tubes coming out of various parts of his body. Although this was traumatic, Nate seems to be adjusting to his dad’s status fairly well. He is very active and enjoys swimming, Roblox, Pokémon and car models. He is interested in basketball, and loves to help others.
In November of 2018, Joe collapsed at home and was rushed to the ER. He complained he had a severe headache and felt nausea for a couple days prior to his collapse. He went to urgent care twice and both times was treated for migraines. Forty minutes after his 2nd visit, he collapsed in front of his wife and was unresponsive. 911 dispatched EMTs; when they arrived, Joe was resuscitated & intubated on the way to the ER. A shunt was placed to relieve pressure on his brain and a CT scan confirmed there was a golf ball sized tumor on his pituitary gland. Doctors advised the next course of action would be determined when Joe woke from his coma. After 3 days, Joe was still unresponsive. An MRI confirmed he had suffered 2 massive strokes (brain stem & occipital lobe) as well as mini strokes throughout the brain. The doctors determined it was a fatal injury & less than 25% chance of survival. Nicole was automatically granted power-of-attorney and had to make a difficult decision for end-of-life services. It was decided to wait until after the Thanksgiving holiday to allow the family to enjoy one last holiday with Joe. However, God had other plans. A few days later, Joe started responding to the neurological tests. With a new lease on life, Joe’s medical team decided to surgically remove the tumor. A month after surgery, Joe was transported to Madonna Rehabilitation Hospital in Lincoln, NE, then to On With Life in Ankeny to continue inpatient therapy. In order to help cover medical expenses & loss of their incomes, Nicole sold the family’s townhome and found an ADA accessible home for her and the boys. Three months later, Joe was able to go home, but his physical and medical needs required a full-time caregiver. Nicole was unable to seek employment as she became the primary caregiver.
A year into his recovery, his doctors recommended to dissect the residual tumor left after initial surgery. Unfortunately, there were several medical complications requiring Joe to be life flighted to U of Iowa Hospital. They implanted a plate as well as a shunt to regulate the cerebrospinal fluid. Then, COVID happened. Visitations were restricted or prohibited which was devastating to everyone. Joe & Nicole were able to connect through Facetime as she needed to be home with their son. After many medical facilities and some unfortunate events, Joe was able to return home after a 430-day absence. Unfortunately, Joe had lost all the skills he had regained the year prior and had additional medical issues, including fine motor skills, cognitive deficits & a compromised swallow. He requires a feeding tube and is forbidden to have solids & liquids due to high aspiration risks. Although he eventually was approved for the Brain Injury Waiver, the family suffered major financial hardships; which left them basically destitute. It also caused added stress on the family, especially Nicole. She fell into a deep depression after exhausting all possible resources available.
Joe was eventually moved to a group home after a psychotic episode in his sleep left Nicole severely injured. The decision was made to place Joe in a group home with a higher level of care and attentiveness that Nicole is unable to provide. Even though Joe is no longer in the family home, Nicole and Nate play an important part in his recovery, as does his extended family. He still keeps his spirits high and is determined in his recovery thanks to his faith & the love he has for his family.
Madison Meyer was your typical four-year-old in every way. Born and mostly raised in Des Moines, she loved playing with her two older sisters and spending her days home with her mom. Some of her favorite things were being outside, riding her hoverboard and tricycle, playing, and spending the days baking with her mom.
On July 20th, Madison woke up saying her head was hurting and she was having trouble walking. Her parents, Ryan and Breeana, could tell something was seriously wrong and took her to their then local hospital in Dodge City, Kansas. Once they arrived at the hospital, they did a scan and were told Madi had a mass that was bleeding on her brain, and she needed to be taken to the Children’s Hospital in Denver Colorado immediately.
When they arrived in Denver by helicopter, it was revealed that Madi had a brain tumor that was pressing against her brain stem. She was immediately taken into a four-hour surgery. During the surgery they removed as much of the mass as they could but were forced to stop due to Madi’s vitals dropping.
A few days after the surgery, Madison’s results showed it was cancer. She was diagnosed with a high-grade Glioma.
Madison started radiation treatment for 6.5 weeks in Denver. On top of the daily radiation, she was also doing physical therapy to try and regain function in her arms and legs. During this time, her two older sisters were able to move back to Iowa to stay with their grandparents and begin school in the Fall.
Madison, Ryan, and Bree spent almost ten weeks in the Denver hospital before being released and able to move back home to Iowa, closer to family. Madison will now go to appointments in Iowa City to determine what can be done moving forward. There are hopes that a certain combination of medicines will help slow the growing of the cancer, but nothing is for sure yet.
Madi is a fighter and has fought her heart out through this entire ordeal. She refuses to give up and is not allowing this to slow her down. Back in Iowa, she still loves spending her days with her mom and dad and two sisters. She has even recently asked her mom if they could start baking again while at home. Madi is making amazing mobility and cognitive improvements but has a long road ahead.
Read more about Madi’s Story, and updates via her Caring Bridge page: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/madisonmeyer3
On the Friday of Memorial weekend Brandon woke up feeling a little bit off. I asked him if I should drop off our son Colton for school, but Brandon insisted that he take Colton. He came home after drop-off and decided to try and “sleep off” his sick feeling. Around 2 o’clock in the afternoon I received a text from Brandon that said ‘help’. I texted back asking what he needed, and he responded with “I fell”. I gave him a quick call and noticed his speech was really slurred. I asked my boss if I could leave and go check on him. I sped across town and when I got home, I found Brandon in his basement office without a shirt on. Brandon told me he fell a few times and was frustrated that he couldn’t get his shirt on. I helped him get dressed and took him to Urgent Care because he didn’t want me to call an ambulance. An incredible miracle happened as I was able to get him up the stairs without falling. He visibly had weakness in his left side. He staggered to the car with my help. On the way to Urgent Care, he began falling asleep. I remember hearing that is not good, so I tried to keep him awake. During the car drive It came to my mind that this has got to be a stroke. Somehow, we made it into the doctor’s office. I sat Brandon down and took care of insurance, and as I was doing that, Brandon fell out of his chair. We decided to call the ambulance. While waiting, it was clear to us that Brandon was having a stroke at the young age of 36.
He had been having symptoms since he woke up, meaning at that point his brain was deprived of blood for at least 8 hours. So much damage had already been done. After arriving at the hospital, the doctors did all the usual tests and told me that he indeed suffered a massive Ischemic stroke on the right side of his brain. The next step was to sign off on an emergency Thrombectomy to try to get blood flow back to his brain. I sat in the waiting area feeling so caught off guard and not understanding the severity of any of this. The surgeon came out and let me know that the Thrombectomy was unsuccessful. I could hear the feeling of defeat in the surgeons’ voice as he told me he could not get the blood to flow back to the brain and that any damage that had occurred would probably be permanent.
Brandon spent the next 24 hours under close watch, feeling very drowsy and becoming less responsive to us. He underwent another CT scan where it showed an incredible amount of swelling around the brain. We were then given the option to undergo a life saving surgery called a Craniotomy. The Neurosurgeon would cut out a large part of Brandon’s skull to take the pressure off his brain. Everything was happening so fast, and I did not know if I was making the same choices that Brandon would want, but we kept pushing forward.
The craniotomy was helpful in relieving the pressure, but Brandon was left with left side paralysis. Doctors would come in every hour quizzing Brandon and asking him to try to move his appendages. He couldn’t do anything with his left side. The muscles in his throat were even affected, therefore he could not eat. A feeding tube was placed to provide his body with nourishment. There were days where Brandon would get confused with who I was, thinking I was his sister and asking when his wife was going to be visiting. That was so frustrating for me as his wife.
Brandon was in the hospital for a total of 22 days. During these days, he could not see our son because of covid regulations. Brandon did an excellent job staying positive, though. We were grateful that it was summertime so I could be at the hospital everyday with Brandon while my parents graciously stayed with Colton.
Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, and Speech met with Brandon each day. Speech therapy worked on helping him strengthen his swallowing muscles so he could begin to eat pureed food. On his first day of PT, his job was to sit up at the side of the hospital bed with the help of 3 other people. The next day his job was to hold his head up while sitting bedside. He was able to hold it up for 10 seconds. He was on a long list of medicines, and I was able to have a few doctors explain in depth what had happened. The cause of the stroke is not exactly known.
After a few weeks in the hospital, the idea of in-patient rehab was discussed. We were on a wait list for “On With life,” a rehab facility that specializes in stroke recovery. The rehab center is in the city we are living! We were accepted, and the ambulance transferred Brandon to “On With Life” where he would undergo 3 hours of therapy each day and get to see his family daily! The first day there, Brandon was given a wheelchair to use during his 60 day stay. The moment I saw him in a wheelchair, things hit hard and fast. Colton and I both were able to participate in therapies with him which made the progress so much more exciting. They worked on getting Brandon to walk by activating his muscles on the left side of his body. His muscles in his left leg started to function and he was able to stand! He then progressed to taking steps assisted. He was so proud, he cried! The rehab center had a golf green which Brandon was able to use weekly for therapy and show off his love for golf. He was able to meet patients that experienced similar situations. On With Life was a perfect fit for Brandon!
After his time was up in the rehab facility, he returned HOME! The transition was excellent; he started to really progress in his own home. Being able to attend out-patient therapy at On With Life has been a continued blessing!
Our luck turned a bit when it was time to put Brandon’s bone plate back in with a surgery called a Cranioplasty. The surgery went well but the side effects did not. Fluid began pooling in Brandon’s brain, so yet another surgery was required. Brandon has what is called a shunt draining fluid from his brain to his stomach. He will likely have this for the rest of his life. He started to improve and was released from the hospital after a week. The surgeries seemed to set him back physically. More work was required on standing sturdy and walking with assistance.
This brings us to today, almost a half a year since stroke day in May. Brandon currently does an excellent job with walking up and down the stairs with assistance. He can perform transfers, short distance walking, and daily life skills with assistance. He has no dietary restrictions and loves to cook with me! He was even able to attend Colton’s first grade conference last week. Brandon struggles with most problem-solving skills and has no controlled movement in his left arm, but we are hopeful that will come back. Our relationship has grown 100 times stronger while we have spent this time so closely together working as a team. The road ahead will be long and bumpy but with our support Brandon can conquer his goals!
God is good all the time!
My name is Tara Lewis and I’d like to introduce our family. I was a Montessori preschool teacher for the past 10 years. One of my former students was the one to nominate us for Holiday Streakers. My husband Matt is the Men’s Drake Golf Coach and was thrilled to hear about your program. What a great way to keep people healthy while supporting others! My daughter Avery (16) plays club and high school soccer and my son Jackson (14) plays basketball and golf. Needless to say, our youngest, Bennett has grown up in a family that LOVES sports! If there is a game on tv, someone in our family is watching.
My son, Bennett Lewis (age 11), started experiencing a sore knee at the end of basketball season this past winter. We assumed it was probably overuse and it seemed to get better after the season ended. In April we noticed he started to limp, so we took him in. Thank God his pediatrician ordered an X-ray! Friday, May 6th the X-ray showed a tumor on his lower left femur. The following Friday he was sent to the University of Iowa Stead Hospital for a biopsy and port placement. He was then diagnosed with osteosarcoma, a type of bone cancer that typically affects children.
He started chemotherapy at Blank Children’s Hospital this summer. In August, his surgeon from the University of Iowa Stead Hospital removed part of his femur and replaced it with a prosthetic bone that will actually grow as he grows! This is done with the help of a strong magnetic treatment done in Iowa City by his surgical team. He also had a knee replacement at that time. We are continuing to do chemotherapy in Des Moines until February.
When he is done with treatment, we are hopeful that he will be back on the golf course competing next summer. We are thankful for a supportive medical team at both hospitals and a strong network of friends and family that have helped so much along the way!
In November of 2016 David was diagnosed with medulloblastoma (a cancerous brain tumor). He underwent multiple brain surgeries and chemo and radiation. After treatment, David was cancer free, but the cancer and treatment left him with significant hearing and vision impairments. He had been adjusting to those life changes with grace and an unbelievably positive attitude. He is currently in 10th grade at Twin Cedars High School.
Last spring, he learned his cancer has returned. His original cancer is back, but this time in two locations, one in his brain and one in his spine. He is now looking at a minimum of two years of chemotherapy in 28-day cycles. This requires trips to Iowa City each time.
David loves the Iowa Hawkeyes. He likes to play Xbox. His favorite games are Minecraft, Fortnite, and Grand Theft Auto. He loves his cat, Bob. His beloved dog (a Pug), Bugsy died this fall.
David’s family in
cludes the following: mom, Tiffany; sister, Allisson, a 14-year-old freshman; brother, Cullen, a 17-year-old senior; and sister, Elizabeth, an 18-year-old senior.
You can follow David on Facebook at Prayers for Dave.
We are happy and grateful to be part of the Holiday Streakers experience. THANK YOU!
Hello Streaker Nation,
The George family is indeed honored and humbled to be chosen this year. Our family includes husband Matthew (Seth) 40, wife Connie (40) and children Cammillia (19), Caylee (17) Carlee (17) and Carmen (14). We live in the Dallas/Ft Worth, TX metroplex.
Seth and Connie met in an east Texas church as adolescents and consider themselves childhood sweethearts. They were separated when Connie’s family moved to DFW, but twelve years later they reunited via email and married six months later. Connie had Cammillia while attending college for Musical Theater a year before she and Seth reunited, but she (Cammie) has only known Seth as daddy. Seth says that when they married, he not only took Connie as his wife, but Cammillia as his very own flesh and blood.
Seth is a computer nerd and anime enthusiast. He works as an IT Specialist/ System Analyst. He has been through three mergers in six years. He likes to read, watch anime or sci fi. In his free time, he likes to play a game called Star Dew Valley with the kids. He hangs out with his friends when he is able, and they like to play board games and watch the latest Superhero movies. His loves his pup Bandit. Bandit is part Chihuahua and Jack Russell Terrier, and a whole lot of mutt. He didn’t want to get him at first, but I don’t know what he would have done without him over the past 3 years.
Connie is a proud mom of four girls. She loves to sing, act, and give praise to the Lord. She loves to stay busy volunteering her time and talents to church, community, and local theater. Connie has struggled many years with depression and anxiety, but thanks to medicine, medical professionals, God, and encouraging friends and family she lives daily with a purpose grateful for the life the Lord has given her. Connie enjoys spending time with her friends attending concerts, live theatre, movies, going out to eat, or one of her favorite activities -karaoke. She loves doing for other people and one day wants to take her family to Disney for vacation but this of course needs to be when Seth is healthy. She loves taking care of her family.
Cammillia is attending college and is in her 2nd semester. She is getting a business degree. She currently works full time. Cammillia is a leader of her youth group and on the praise and worship team. Her boyfriend and best friend of 2 years is her constant companion and support system. She has a 3-year-old Husky named Everest. In her limited free time, she likes to go to the movies, bowling, and escape rooms. She has been a huge help during Seth’s illness watching over her siblings.
Caylee and Carlee are twins but could not be more different and yet alike at the same time. Caylee values time with her friends. She is a senior in high school and getting her driver’s license. Caylee wants to become a 3rd grade Math teacher. Caylee is also the best baker in the house. The family tries to always keep chocolate chips on hand so when Caylee gets in the mood, they can enjoy her scrumptious treats. Caylee has a cat named Sunny.
Carlee is an artist. She specifically loves drawing anime and is in animation classes at high school. Carlee had a hard time when she was younger and was diagnosed with several mood disorders, ODD, and Dyslexia. After finding the right people in her life, Carlee has overcome many obstacles to become the wonderful kind, fun, energetic, beautiful person that she is today. Carlee spends a large portion of her time online. She is working on many different projects, and live streams with friends from all over the world doing voice overs. She has been able to earn a little money for herself selling art commissions online. Carlee has a kitten named Allister.
Carmen is the baby of the family. Carmen is constantly on her phone. She also values friendship. She is the only one of her Momma’s daughters to pursue acting. Carmen likes hanging out with friends at the mall, watching movies, make up, and fashion. She is a very talented dancer but has not been able to spend time honing her craft because of all the difficulties at home. Carmen has a hamster named Bear.
The George family loves to spend time together. They usually will watch movies together or play a round of Jack box games. They have a family text chat that stays active daily even when they are not all under the same roof. They sure aren’t perfect, but there’s a lot of love in this home.
The George family has been fighting cancer for the last 2.5 years. In January of 2020 Seth started having severe back pain which he thought needed the attention of a chiropractor. One weekend the pain was so bad he decided to go to the ER. His enzymes were very high, and he was diagnosed with pancreatitis and sent home on a liquid diet. After a week of liquid diet and no relief he returned to the ER where a scan revealed he had a necrotic gallbladder. They removed his gallbladder and sent home to recover. Recovery was going very slowly, and he returned to the hospital. They ordered an MRI of his abdomen which did not reveal much but they saw a blip at the top of the scan which caused a little bit of concern. They did a scan of his chest revealing a grapefruit sized tumor. This was February of 2020. Seth’s diagnosis: B-Cell Lymphoma Non-Hodgkin’s Stage 2. There was only one big tumor. He underwent 6 rounds of chemo and 10 rounds of radiation and in August of 2020 was declared in remission.
During this time, in March of 2020, Connie was laid off from her job. She was invited back in June of 2020 as a volunteer and did so until March of 2021. She asked to return to employee status in August of 2021 but was told there was no longer a position in her department.
Six months after remission, in February of 2021, Seth developed what he thought was a winter cough. One night while playing virtual games with his friends he was laughing hard and began to cough. He passed out of his chair and hit his head. He was taken to the ER where they prescribed a strong cough medicine. The following week he followed up with his oncologist and was told that the cancer had reoccurred and was now stage 4. A very aggressive fast acting cancer. The same lymphoma, but it was now all over his body and growing in the lining of his lung. He was referred to a Dallas hospital BMT (bone marrow transplant) department the next day where they admitted him, and he would spend more than 10 consecutive days. In May of 2021, he was not responding to any type of chemo treatments and was experiencing very severe side effects. They decided that this meant he was not a good candidate for Autologus BMT and began to see if he would qualify for a new treatment called CAR-T. Luckily, he was a candidate. This would be a very hard, difficult but hopefully lifesaving treatment.
On Mother’s Day, May 9th, he began running a fever and having severe pain in his lung. He was admitted for his procedure 2 weeks before his cells would be ready, because they couldn’t keep him stable otherwise. This was at the height of the pandemic when vaccines were just becoming available, and the hospital had very strict visitation rules. Connie had to decide between being home with her children or supporting her husband through this treatment. She chose to be with him, not knowing if he would survive the treatment. Together they spent 60 consecutive days in a tiny hospital room. Some days not knowing if he would see his next day. Connie did gain permission to leave the hospital on a few special occasions, Cammillia’s graduation included, but it was very rare.
In July of 2021, Seth was released from the hospital, but could not go home due to major house construction. The family stayed in hotels and with friends for over a month. During the renovations, it was also discovered there was mold in the master bedroom, but they could not afford to fix it, so they sealed off the room and converted their dining area into a temporary bedroom. He returned to work in September of 2021.
In November of 2021 Connie started a new job working from home as a Customer Service representative. Seth had his 6-month pet scan post CAR-T. The scan looked very good, all his previous active cells were not lighting up. However, there was one new spot in his abdomen that was lighting up. Doctors did a biopsy of this spot and said that it did not come back as cancerous in the blood testing, but they weren’t sure what it was. The family spent the Thanksgiving holiday pensive about what they would find, but grateful he was in remission, again.
Two weeks later Seth received a phone call stating that upon further testing his biopsy was cancerous. The doctors ordered a month of radiation treatments, but the cancer continued to grow. By January of 2022 Seth could no longer drive himself to his appointments and eventually Connie had to give up her job. Seth continued monthly chemo treatments until his body could no longer recover. As a last resort the doctors approved him for a Donor Stem Cell Transplant or Bone Marrow transplant. He received his donor cells on September 8, 2022 and is currently in the hospital recovering hoping his body does not reject them. As of Oct 14th, Seth has developed some infections and he is in the hospital undergoing IV treatments.
This has been extremely hard on the family emotionally and financially. Seth is receiving temporary disability. Connie is unable to work. Dallas is a long commute. God has been good. They were able to refinance their house due to covid. They received a used car during Christmas 2020. Church, friends, and family have been very generous in their giving. They also received help in 2021 to mend many things in their yard and outside property, including replacing their privacy fence. A friend who owns a contracting business helped them when their main sewer line broke a week before Seth was due to come home and has allowed them to make payments. Another friend is treating the mold issue in the bedroom. Seth’s job has allowed him to borrow sick and vacation days from next year and he is lucky to have insurance, but it still has been very hard. They worry monthly about utility payments, gas, groceries, and how to pay the mortgage. Their girls don’t get to have many nice things very often and when they do it is because their friends or big sister treated them. Cammillia bought her sisters Christmas for her parents last year. The road has been very long and rocky. However, they still believe that God is good even when we do not understand the season they are experiencing.
I have a wife and two girls, Sophia (14) and Chloe (13). Thank you for reading my story, I would like to bring awareness to the diseases I have struggled with and hope it can also help someone who may be experiencing some of what I have endured.
In 2020, I was diagnosed with Lyme disease. The last few years have been incredibly difficult for my family and I as the disease has impacted my brain function, energy, and overall health. Each day was a struggle.
People often ask me where I picked up Lyme disease, and they quickly assume I was in the woods camping, hiking, or vacationing. My answer always baffles people when I say I was in my backyard staining my fence. I was wearing sweatpants; however, as the day grew warmer, I soon changed into shorts. At one point I felt a wave of lightheadedness and chills, so I took a break, the feeling subsided, and I continued staining the fence.
How can I pinpoint this event and link it to Lyme? This was the start of the pandemic, the end of May 2020. People were encouraged to stay home and the only time I left my house was to go to the grocery store. Within a couple days I had a rash on my upper thigh. My daughter coincidentally had a dermatology appointment that week, so I took her and asked the dermatologist about my rash while I was there. She asked me some questions and quickly concluded it was some kind of spider bite and to use hydrocortisone cream – I did not sense any concern or alarm during that appointment.
Days later, I began having a sudden, extreme onset of symptoms which included a cough, heavy chest, shortness of breath, chills, full body sweats, fatigue/exhaustion, brain fog, and a chronic migraine that would not subside. We instantly thought this was covid related. This was the beginning of June 2020, people were hesitant about going inside a clinic, and drive through covid tests were the norm. I got a covid test and was told in 4 days I would know if I was covid positive. Meanwhile, my rash was increasing in size and I had joint pain along with neck stiffness which compounded the other symptoms. Still having the initial symptoms with such intensity, coupled with no skin color, I felt like I was dying as every move and breath was labored. We went to the ER and the doctor tested for Lyme; however, he said it could take weeks before a positive test would appear. He strongly felt this was Lyme disease and he followed the CDC protocol of giving 3 weeks oral antibiotic doxycycline.
For 80% of people who contract Lyme disease, the antibiotic solves the problem – symptoms leave, and the individual continues life where they left off. For up to 20% of people with tick-borne illness, the antibiotics don’t work, and lingering symptoms remain for years – sometimes indefinitely. I was told I should be back to normal within weeks, if not months because we caught it early, but sadly, this was not the case for me.
Tick-borne illness is complicated. I had many symptoms leave after the antibiotic; however, I had some symptoms remain and new symptoms present themselves. The lethargy fatigue, heavy chest/breathing exhaustion, heart pain, joint pain, brain fog continued and then I started having new symptoms which presented themselves as a panic attack – dizziness, vision issues, heart racing, trouble in large spaces, etc. Being in a large space would set me back for days. All blood tests and heart tests were normal, but I knew this was far from normal. I struggled daily to do anything and exert any type of energy – complete exhaustion and lethargy.
We started doing our own research. Standard blood tests look for Lyme disease caused by the bacterium Borrelia burgdorferi. Some ticks, like deer ticks, can carry multiple illnesses and be co-infected with more than one pathogen. One tick bite can transmit multiple conditions that would normally be treated quite differently.
We started on a path to heal myself and the expenses were out of pocket since insurance does not reimburse for integrative and alternative medicine (most labs, all supplements, intense treatments). To identify the extent of my illness, we paid for a complete tickborne blood panels to identify any other pathogens aside from Lyme disease. We discovered I had multiple co-infections that the tick carried and transmitted to me.
I got 5 different tickborne diseases from the tick (babesia, borrelia, bartonella, ehrlichia, and rachesia) as well as two main viruses epstein barr and herpes 6/roseola. The diseases also created biofilms, parasites, mold, and a lot of inflammation was found in my blood. The antibiotic I was prescribed only tries to attack a sliver of what is listed.
Tick borne diseases has caused increased inflammation in my body which has led to Duputren’s contracture. My lymphatic system is also affected by my inability to sweat. I now have food sensitivities that I did not have previously and am on a special diet. I get other random symptoms during the day that are unexplained. The symptoms are challenging and complicated, especially dealing with multiple infections caused by the tick bite.
We discovered bartonella creates visual problems aside from the various other problems that come with the challenging disease. The panic attack symptoms with large spaces and onset vertigo mentioned above are now explained and related to the bartonella infection. I am seeing an optometrist specializing in how tick-borne disease affects the eyes. I have done some light therapy and now have specialized glasses.
I went to numerous doctors locally and even went to a couple doctors out of state for 2 years. 2 years of constant supplements, topicals, oral drops, etc that were not providing relief. I had many sick days and extended leave from work. In May 2022, my situation made it impossible to work any longer with my deteriorating health. I experienced daily varying degrees of heavy fatigue, heart pain, hot flashes, fevers, brain fog, constant chills, and flu-like symptoms without relief. When the various doctor paths didn’t work, we did a national search to find a provider to help. We found a provider in Florida who has had success with Lyme disease and we made the decision for me to undergo intense treatment in Florida. I relocated to Florida for 5 months with intensive, onsite treatments. This disease has touched virtually all parts of my life and it gets overwhelming. The extensive treatments are documented in this link https://docs.google.com/document/d/1wH5cz-XzCOX6mg_h_iGTfq_HFTlk8PhPBNtV4jD8IA/mobilebasic
Here are some of the intense treatments and other protocol items from the Florida doctor:
- The HBOT (hyperbaric chamber oxygen therapy)
- PEMF (Pulsed Magnetic Field Therapy)
- IV treatment UVBI (Ultra Violet Blood Irradiation)
- IV treatment Myers (Myers’ Cocktail)
- IV treatment Glutathione
- IV Autoimmune injections
- HD UVBI treatments
- HOCATT (Ozone Steam Sauna)
- MAS Mat
- AET (Allergy Elimination Treatment)
- Major Autohemotherapy (MAH) IV treatment
- Silver IV therapy
- NAD IV Therapy
- EBOO IV Therapy
- Extensive dental work (identify and remove cavitations that harbor bacteria)
- Chiropractor to align upper cervical which contributes to healing as well
After going to Florida, I feel very encouraged and am starting to get my life back again as well as my family’s lives back again. I still have some residual symptoms but hope they resolve in time. There will be lifetime maintenance and financial out of pocket expenses to try to keep the various diseases in dormancy and constantly build up my immune system. Maintenance includes numerous supplements (gut, GI, amino acids, mitochondria energy, etc), powders, iv treatments, and infrared sauna to name a few. We’ve changed our lifestyle at home to accommodate for my condition and are constantly monitoring the amount of volatile organic compounds (vocs). I try to limit my exposure to any types of chemicals in various forms. We had work done on our HVAC system as well as installed special whole house water filtration system. I cannot be exposed to mold or chemical toxins as that can cause regression. I am on a strict paleo/keto and organic diet. I will continue going back to Florida periodically for maintenance and reevaluation as this is a lifelong disease.
Lyme disease is closer than people think. The disease I have is somewhat invisible and misunderstood as some people get better quickly from Lyme and others have a chronic struggle. I am incredibly thankful that right now I am able to take part in life’s simple joys again and I hope I can keep all the diseases in dormancy.
Meet Harper. She is our sweet 11-year-old daughter. She lives in Polk City (but Ankeny schools) with her brother Nile, sister Madeline, and parents Nolan and Nicole. She can usually be found with a soccer ball or basketball in her hands and loves cuddling her dogs, Dexter and Hurley! Among other things, Harper is a sister, daughter, friend, teammate, and a childhood cancer warrior!
Her journey of strength and determination started just 5 years ago on June 29th, 2017, when she was first diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma. It is a cancer usually in the soft tissue (such as muscle) that attaches to bone. In Harper’s case, what we thought was a bug bite was actually a tumor in her cheek. She was just 5 years old. For the next 10 months, Harper and our family would drive back and forth to Iowa City for radiation and chemo treatments at the University of Iowa Stead Family Children’s Hospital. She endured more in that short time than most people will in their entire lives. But on April 16, 2018, Harper received her last chemo treatment and on May 8, 2018, she was officially declared NED (No Evidence of Disease).
For 4 ½ years Harper enjoyed living her best life which included soccer, basketball, volleyball, being an Iowa Hawkeyes Kid Captain, going on her Make a Wish trip, and doing normal, everyday things. Fast forward to September 19, 2022 – the day Harper would face her biggest challenge yet. This was the day we found out Harper’s cancer had returned. She relapsed close to the original site of her first tumor in her jaw. It was like Harper and our family got sucker punched – we were shocked of this news because we were 1 appointment away from hitting the 5-year mark and discontinuing MRIs. Our family soon realized this fight would look different than her first time battling with new harsher chemo drugs, all inpatient stays for chemo, and a major surgery to remove the tumor and reconstruct her jaw. So, Harper is back in the battle again, looking down the tunnel of months of expected and unexpected hospital stays, fighting the side effects of chemo treatments, missing life events/holidays/games, and so much more.
Harper and our family have and will continue to face this journey again with the same fierce determination and resilience we did the first time. And standing on the sides cheering us on, holding us up when we need extra support, celebrating wins with us, and sharing in the heartache of setbacks, is our tribe! The Stribe Tribe. The Streakers group is now part of our tribe, and we thank you for joining and supporting Harper as she battles again.
On October 13, 2018, we welcomed our sweet Estella Jean into the world. She was seemingly perfect in every way. We adored her; our other kids adored her. She was meeting her milestones, smiling and rolling over. She was perfect, or so we thought.
On February 26, 2019, our world came crashing down. Estella was just 4 months old. I got home from work, and Estella had just begun acting strangely. Her right eye was pulled almost backwards, her head was stuck over her right shoulder, and although she was breathing, she was otherwise unresponsive. We rushed her to our local ER, and were immediately taken by ambulance to Blank Children’s Hospital in Des Moines. By the time we got there, she was back to her normal self, with no sign of what had just happened. Both her MRI and EEG came back normal, so we were sent home after 48 hours with no answers, only hope that this would never happen again.
That wishful thinking didn’t come to fruition, and over the course of the next 5 weeks, we would replay this scenario 5 times. We spent most of the month of March of that year in the hospital. She endured blood draws, MRIs, CT scans, EEGs, genetic testing. I have memories of sleepless nights, countless tears, frightened phone calls. I have memories of watching ER staff prepare crash carts and oral airways, of ER doctors telling me they expect her to stop breathing at any moment. Memories of stroking her cheek and saying goodbye. Memories of pleading with God for relief from this nightmare. Memories of wishing for something, anything to show up on a test so we know what is going on.
We were told at that time that she had “intractable seizures” and that we were to rush to the nearest ER as soon as her symptoms started. At this point, these “seizures” would last anywhere from 25 minutes to 2 ½ hours. ER staff would give Ativan dose after Ativan dose, trying to get her out of these episodes to no avail. We would hold her, completely and utterly helpless.
In May of 2019 we got Estella’s genetic test results back. It showed a De Novo mutation on the ATP1A3 gene. What did this mean? De Novo means “new,” so neither my husband or I are carriers of this mutation. It was a random event that happened at conception. Based on this mutation, Estella was undiagnosed with “intractable seizures” and instead diagnosed with Alternating Hemiplegia of Childhood (AHC), an ultra-rare neurologic disorder that affects literally 1 in 1 million people. AHC is a disease that has a “poor prognosis.” It is known as being one of the most complex neurological disorders known to mankind. It is described as having 7 neurological diseases in one: paralysis like Stroke, seizures like Epilepsy, low muscle tone like Cerebral Palsy, neurodegeneration like Alzheimers, dystonia like Parkinsons, behavior issues like ADHD, and difficulty learning like Autism. It is a disease that causes episodes of paralysis, dystonia, nystagmus, and decreased levels of consciousness. It is a disease that causes intellectual disabilities, behavioral disorders, gait abnormalities, and movement disorders. It is a disease that is robbing my child of her life.
At her baseline, she can crawl and cruise furniture, sign words and play with her siblings. But if she plays too hard, laughs too long, is too silly, gets too excited, swings too high in a swing, takes too long of a bath, gets too hot or too cold, stands too long or gets too upset about something — she goes into an episode.
Currently, Estella’s episodes are lasting about 4 days every 2-3 weeks. During an AHC episode, Estella becomes trapped in her own body; her brain no longer has any control over it. She is mentally aware of what is going on, but at 3 years old, does not understand why it is happening. Every AHC episode is different, and it can change from minute to minute. Without a moment’s notice, she can become paralyzed in one arm, two arms, or her entire body. She can develop dystonia in any or all limbs of her body, and scream from the severe pain this causes. She can lose her ability to swallow while she’s eating or drinking because of muscle paralysis. She can lose control of her eye movements. She can lose her ability to vocalize. Episodes can last for minutes to days at a time, and we don’t know how long it will last until it is over. Every episode brings the risk of skill regression, seizures, brain damage, respiratory arrest, and sudden death. Every episode is terrifying.
There currently is no effective treatment or cure for AHC. We give medications to treat the various symptoms of AHC, but not AHC itself. Since it is so rare, there are only a few doctors in the United States that specialize in AHC. Estella’s doctor is in North Carolina at Duke University, and we make a weeklong trip there every year for her to be evaluated by her AHC team.
Every day Estella wakes up, we have no idea what her body is going to hand her that day, but she does not let a good day go to waste! Estella has endured more physical suffering in her 3 short years than most people do in a lifetime. But her strength and determination are inspiring, and we fight every day to give her the best life we can possibly give her.
My husband Lui is 51, a computer technician for a large company, and an accomplished bass player. We have been married for 23 years. We have 4 kids, a son-in-law, a granddaughter, and another on the way. We are believers in Jesus and devoted to our church that we’ve gone to for over 25 years. Life has been full and we have been blessed beyond measure.
The morning of February 6, 2021, was a normal Saturday morning. Lui was working on something in the garage. All of a sudden, his right hand started getting numb and the numbness moved up his arm. He went upstairs to take an aspirin and said to me “I think I’m having a stroke” when he said that the right side of his face was fallen and numb. I called 911, within 8 minutes they were there and all his symptoms were gone. Very strange. The ambulance took him to the hospital and they did an MRI. They told us he had a parasite in his brain and admitted him to the hospital. When they discharged us they gave us drugs to kill the parasite and would check up on him after another MRI in a few weeks to see if it was dead. We were bewildered at this diagnosis as Lui has always been healthy. A parasite? He took the medication and got another MRI. The MRI showed that it had grown in size and was most likely not a parasite after all! A misdiagnosis! The neurosurgeon told us we need brain surgery to get out the mass. After that appointment we were reeling and our friends and family and church family rallied around us praying for good news. Lui was positive and focused on healing.
1st Brain Surgery—
Surgery day was April 13th. The surgery was 3 hours long and when the surgeon came out, he said that it was a walnut-sized Glioblastoma grade 4 tumor. This is considered the most deadly and aggressive type of brain tumor there is. The prognosis is 15 months survival from diagnosis. I was devastated. How could this be happening? Lui stayed positive, believing that God had him in the palm of His hand. The surgeon said he removed 95% and expected chemo and radiation to take care of the rest in 4-6 weeks. His goal in leaving 5% was to keep Lui’s motor skills intact because the tumor was in the left motor cortex in the brain that is in charge of right side movement and speech. Lui was in the hospital for 3 days and recovered very well. He was able to walk and talk normally as before.
2nd Brain Surgery—
Two weeks after surgery he started having focal seizures in his hand and face that got progressively worse. It started to affect his ability to use his right arm and hand and to talk and eat. On May 10th, we decided to go to the ER and they found that the tumor had grown back to 3 times the size it was 30 days earlier! We were shocked! They scheduled another surgery for May 14. This time, because the tumor was so aggressive, the surgeon said it would be best to remove everything and suggested Giliadel chemo wafers be inserted into the brain cavity to suppress any new growth. The surgeon was going to do his best to try to keep from damaging Lui’s mobility. During surgery, they removed every bit of cancer they saw. Unfortunately after surgery, Lui was unable to move his right side and his speech and cognitive ability were severely affected. This wonderful man that is my love, my best friend, and very active and involved in all aspects of our life was unable to walk or talk normally. This would prove to kick off the most challenging part of this journey. He stayed in the hospital for 3 weeks and was then moved to inpatient rehab where he started getting 3-4 hours of physical therapy a day.
Lui got the use of his upper right leg back and can walk with a cane with help, but mostly uses the wheelchair. In mid-June he had a clear MRI! Six weeks of chemo and radiation started at the end of June. The radiation was extremely hard and caused a lot of brain swelling which caused disorientation, inability to communicate. They adjusted his meds and within 3 days he could talk again! At the beginning of August, he moved home from rehab and had another clear MRI. Lui now does 5 days of the chemo pill per month. He is tolerating it well. His next MRI is after Thanksgiving.
As a family, it’s been very hard to navigate for everyone. The kids have been so strong and resilient, pitching in wherever needed. They have their hard days dealing with the huge change they see in their dad.
Financially, Lui is unable to work so we have had those challenges. I am self-employed and worked part time prior to this. Thankfully, we have been able to stay afloat. We have had tremendous support from our families, friends, and church community. They have brought meals, groceries, prayed with us, and helped out in so many ways! We have seen God’s provision in every area.
These days, Lui goes to therapy, loves on his kids and granddaughter, goes to church, and even went to see live music with his best friend. He’s still in a wheelchair and uses a cane with help. He is staying positive even on days I can tell are harder for him. Despite what the doctors say, we are still believing in complete healing from brain cancer and for Lui’s full mobility to return. God is able!
Sarah Waul is a 17 yr old Senior from Bondurant-Farrar High School. She is battling cancer for the 2nd time in her life and this time it’s an even rarer form of cancer. She was originally diagnosed with Ewing’s Sarcoma a month before her 3rd birthday when we lived in North Liberty. The odds of a 3 yr old getting Ewing’s is 3 in 10 million. It is far more common in teenagers. While she lost her wedding ring finger to the cancer, she was successful in becoming cancer-free from Ewings after 9 months of heavy chemo treatments.
Then just over 4 months ago, Sarah had some extended soreness from a great diving catch in softball. Through several tests and scans along with a very determined doctor, she was diagnosed again with cancer. This time it was Desmoplastic Small Round Cell Tumors (DSRCTs). This cancer is even rarer, especially for her. There have only been 200+ diagnoses ever (out of probably 800 million similarly aged people) worldwide of this particular type of cancer with a 3-1 ratio of young men to young women. Also, it tends to affect twenty-somethings and not teens, so Sarah defied the odds yet again, but again not in a good way. DSRCTs is not considered a fully treatable cancer at this time.
She has taken this diagnosis in full stride and truly believes she will be one of the 1st patients to be fully recovered from it. Her follow-up scans conducted after her 2nd full round showed significant progress in reducing the sizes of the bigger (3cm and smaller) cells and the small dots previously visible were gone. Her oncologist’s word were, “I’m pleasantly shocked with these results!!” She defied the odds, but this time in the good way!
So we remain cautiously optimistic as she’ll have another 5-6 months of treatments with scans every couple of months. These treatments haven’t demolished her body and spirit like they do typically for others. She has always maintained a “make the most out of every day” attitude and this continues with her cancer fight. While quite shy in person, she has the heart of a warrior. And yet at the same time she still has bad days. Days where she is broken – physically, emotionally, and spiritually. This is where we get so much encouragement from groups like Holiday Streakers and their support of her.
Additionally, if you’d like to follow her story more closely, we’ve setup a Facebook group page called “Fight for 18 – Sarah Waul.”
Hi, we are the Garcia Crisanto Family – Boni and Charo, Geraldin (17), Lizbeth (15), Darihelys (9), Emireth (6).
At the beginning of this year, you would have found us working hard as a family and sharing many wonderful times in our community. We dreamed of opening a restaurant one day called “Charo’s Family Cocina”. We love to host meals in our home for friends, neighbors, family, and the Mission Southside community. At one of these cookouts, you can be sure you would have found Boni cracking jokes by the grill and making everyone laugh and feel welcome. Charo would be making sure you were comfortable and had a glass of Horchata or a cold Coca-Cola in your hand. Geraldin would be right next to her mom filling empanadas and making sure the whole process was running smoothly. You might find Liz sitting next to you at the table telling one of her famous stories – you’d probably be laughing or crying by the time she’s done. Then Dari would find a seat next to you and taste test the food. Dari is the ultimate taste tester of the family and has a very refined palette. Emy (aka Booboo) would find a seat at the table to share her snap chat filters with you or maybe even include you in her latest Tik Tok. The Garcia Crisanto family gatherings are what memories are made of.
In May, everything changed. My husband, Boni Garcia lost his life after a month and a half long battle with Covid. He was in the ICU for two weeks and in the hospital for over a month. This changed our family forever. We lost our beloved husband and father and many people lost a dear friend. Those were some of the darkest and most challenging days we have been through as a family. The emotional weight of the grief plus the financial burden of it all weighs heavily on me (and on my daughters).
This summer was a very different one for Geraldin and Liz. Because of everything that happened in May, we didn’t spend it like every other summer. In past summers we enjoyed a lot of family time, we would even go to work together as a family. Everyone would go to help clean and then when we were done, we would go to get the “reward” like ice cream. This summer was different because we were all working separately in our jobs, myself, Geraldin, and Liz. I have to wake up extra early to go clean restaurants and businesses alone where Boni used to help me clean before he would go to work. Geraldin has stepped up in huge ways by taking her sisters to school every day, dropping off Dari and Emy in elementary school, Liz at her high school, and then Geraldin goes to her culinary program at another high school.
One way we have been able to honor Boni’s legacy was at Sports Night at Mission Southside. Boni loved participating in this community event on Tuesday evenings each summer. He would always find a way to get there, no matter what! Together with the staff at Mission Southside, we presented three Bonifacio Garcia Sportsmanship Awards to people who exemplified both Christ and Boni. The three awards each had a unique characteristic that described Boni: Teacher, Encourager, and Selfless. We were able to share stories and memories of Boni as we announced the winners of these awards. It was a special moment for Mission Southside, the Garcia family, and the community. We miss his sense of humor, amazing tacos, and his energy for life! His love of family and his heart for serving others will always be his legacy.
Here are some special memories so you can get to know Boni a little better.
(Geraldin) “Something I will always be grateful for is getting to spend my dad’s last birthday with him (Dec. 29th, 2020). We went to get his favorite cake from Whole Foods and then we went out to eat at Texas Roadhouse to get his favorite ribs. Looking back, we didn’t know that would be his last birthday, but I am so glad we took the time to celebrate him. He was so happy and surprised. I will treasure those memories forever.”
(Liz) “I can’t remember a time where my dad was not by my side. He is the first man I ever received true love from. My father was a man who always empathized with others. He was a jokester. He would always know how to crack a smile on your face. The most significant moments were the lessons he taught me. He always put himself in the position of people in need. I will never forget the many times he did this. A memory that will stick with me is from the day we went to the DMV together. My dad’s English was not perfect, so many times my sister or I would go with him to places where he would need translating. I remember getting there, helping my dad sign in the line at the DMV. It was packed as usual and we sat down. Not long after, a Hispanic man walked in. He seemed to not know any English as he was trying to discuss with the DMV employee and neither of them was able to communicate. So my dad told me “Go up to him tell him you can help him.” I remember thinking that I was shy because I did not know this man and sort of gave my dad this look like “but I don’t know him.” He insisted I go and I did and he came with me. I asked the man if he needed help and he said in Spanish “yes actually I’m not able to get anyone to understand me. It’s my first time doing this sort of paperwork and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” I helped him register in the waiting line while my father and he talked in the background about how it was a struggle – the barrier between languages. I explained to the man that his number would be called out and he was to go to the window assigned to him. He said thank you and thanked my dad as well. We sat back down and my dad turned and said to me “I have been in that position before. Luckily I understand English better and have you and your sister, but that man had no one. Think what if we hadn’t gone up to him? He would have been here for hours trying to figure it out. If you are able to help someone, do it. You never know if tomorrow you may be the one in need.” I remember the man got done with his paperwork even before us as he left he waved and said “God bless!” I remember my dad waving back and giving him a smile. My dad was a selfless man and his teachings will forever be the best way to continue his legacy.”
(Dari) “My name is Dari. Today I will be sharing a memory I have with my dad. So there was this one time my dad had went grocery shopping and he came back home. We had bought cookies and we were outside for a while because it was a nice day. I remember we were just there for a while and I remember saying thank you and then I kissed him on the cheek and told him I loved him. He then said, “I love you too” and then he hugged me. Although there are so much more memories, I think this one stood out the most because I think it shows how strong our bond was. Thanks for listening. Sincerely, Dari”
(Emy) “My favorite memory with my dad is when we went to Houston and he put my favorite song on and we sang together.”
My daughters are my motivation to get up every day and keep fighting and putting one foot in front of the other. I am also motivated by the dream Boni and I shared of finishing our house in Mexico for our beautiful family.
After living through the pain of losing our husband/dad, we are able to have compassion and empathy for many others going through similar and sometimes even more difficult situations. Even this week we were able to help someone else get a job where Boni used to work. It is such a blessing to be able to help others through what we have been through. We know that is what Boni would want us to do. We want to say thank you to everyone who is supporting us, checking in on us, and praying for us. We want to thank God for caring for our family even in the hard times. This is truly a big blessing to our family!
In January 2020, we found out I was pregnant with our little rainbow baby. In May, I went into what I thought was just a normal 20-week ultrasound. But this ultrasound was very different than the ones before. I had two techs in the room and they both left and asked me to stay in the room. It seemed like forever as I waited in this little room by myself (Brandon was not allowed in due to COVID precautions) to have the techs come back, along with a doctor. The doctor told me my little girl was going to be born with a cleft lip and maybe more but they couldn’t get a good picture. As soon as I left the clinic, I called Brandon at work to tell him the news. That night we googled cleft lip, wondering what we could have done to make this happen. Why us? Why our little girl?
As the weeks went by, my midwife reassured me it was going to be ok. On September 13, we were admitted to the hospital to be induced, and we welcomed our little Vera Lynn into the world on September 14. She was so precious, even with her cleft lip. She was a great little baby, we spent three days in the hospital learning how to get her to suck (so she could eat). We met with our cleft team, speech therapist, and some great nurses that helped us feel comfortable bringing her home.
Our days at home were great until our third week as Vera was having trouble breathing. She would just stop breathing! This is when she took her first ambulance ride to Blank Children’s Hospital. We spent many days on and off in the hospital trying to figure out why she wasn’t breathing and turning purple. On December 14, she had cleft surgery and we thought we would be good. We thought that now Vera would be like any other baby, but we were wrong. We had lots of feeding problems after her surgery. We still have moments where she stops breathing. Fortunately, we have a great team of doctors from our cleft team, GI Specialists, and a neurologist that are working together to figure our little one out. Vera now attends daycare and loves it (ChildServe Daycare rocks; they have helped our family so much!), where she sees all her therapists. We have such a great team of nurses that we ask a lot of questions.
Savannah was just starting the summer prior to her freshman year of high school in June 2021. She is an active girl that loves AllStar cheerleading, sideline cheerleading for her school, track, golf, and nearly all things active. She was looking forward to sleeping in late, swimming, neighborhood kickball games, unlimited sleepovers, babysitting to earn money of her own, starting school, cheerleading practices, and enjoying all the joys that summer brings when she noticed some abnormal bruising. She was taken in for some routine labs and went about her summer day. The entire family’s world was flipped upside down when they received a call from the on-call pediatrician late that evening stating that Savannah needed to be taken to the emergency room immediately as her labs were acutely abnormal.
Savannah was taken to Blank Children’s Hospital and was diagnosed the next morning with Acute Myeloid Leukemia. Her diagnosis came as a shock as Sav was a vibrant, healthy, active 14-year-old and a life-threatening diagnosis was not what anyone was expecting from what were thought to be pro-active, routine labs. She immediately had a port placed and started aggressive inpatient chemotherapy the next day following diagnosis. With Savannah’s age and genetic mutation of FLT3 ITD, she was considered in a high-risk stratification, and treatment needed to occur quickly. Her treatment plan would require a Bone Marrow Transplant as the only curative option with her high-risk genetic mutation. Savannah underwent two rounds of inpatient chemotherapy at Blank Children’s Hospital, each round requiring month-long hospital stays with minimal days at home in between.
Throughout her second round of chemotherapy, Savannah experienced a chemotherapy reaction similar to chemical burns with blisters on both of her legs. The pain was so excruciating that she was unable to walk without a walker to help support her. Savannah’s perseverance and determination throughout this time was awe-inspiring. She would push through the pain with tears running down her face and say, “No I must walk, I am stronger than this. I am a cheerleader. I have to walk.” Even as the nursing team reassured her that time to rest and allow her body to heal from the trauma of the chemotherapy was ok, she pushed on with a level of determination and stubbornness that was unmatched.
Fortunately, she responded well to the aggressive chemotherapy and was ready for a bone marrow transplant. Transplant required traveling out of state, nearly 250 miles away from home, to the nearest center of excellence at the University of Minnesota Children’s Hospital. Left back at home were her siblings, Parker-12 and Tinley-10. Her Mom traveled with her as a constant care provider and her father spend most weekends traveling up to Minnesota to be with them while caring for her siblings at home during the week. Prior to the transplant, Sav received another round of an even more aggressive chemotherapy regimen at the U of M to prepare her bone marrow for transplant. She received the gift of life from an unrelated donor on September 22nd, 2021. Savannah was required to spend 100 days post-transplant within 30miles of the transplant center. Following completion of the post-transplant protocol, she will be required to be on an oral chemotherapy regimen in hopes of preventing relapse.
September through December was spent away from home, family, and friends. Yet through it all, Savannah’s perseverance and positivity remained constant. She embraced her loneliness during her lengthy hospital stays by making hospital friends and starting a pen pal program for the children in the hospital; complete with crafted mailboxes. There have been so many times when the days have been dark and lonely and the challenges so very overwhelming yet Savannah and her determination have been the light that has carried the family on. There were days that it was hard to believe the challenges that she faced with the strength that she displayed both physically and spiritually.
Having twins is overwhelming in its own right. And we were so overwhelmed in November of 2016 when we learned we were having twins. Maggie and Will were born on May 11, 2017, 5 weeks premature. Maggie was our fighter from day one. For the first hour of her life, she struggled to breathe on her own, but just prior to needing a NICU stay, her lungs got to work and she was able to go home on schedule. And that set the tone for her life. When she encountered a challenge, she always rolled with it and adapted accordingly. She didn’t crawl, so she scooted on the floor. She didn’t like to get messy when she ate, so she developed a pincer grasp, enabling her to eat as daintily as she chose, very early on. While she struggled to get around, as soon as she learned to talk, it was in full sentences, and she immediately set to bossing around Will and her older brother, Stuart.
When Will began to stand and walk and Maggie did not, we didn’t think much of it. Maggie and Will had always developed differently and the thought was that Maggie would catch up. And as the months passed… she didn’t. She could barely get her legs under her and stand. She started physical therapy in January of 2019. By her 2nd birthday, she was able to stand and walk, but from there, her walking never really improved. It was her physical therapist who realized something was wrong. And then Maggie’s eyes started to cross. Her milestones began to regress and her voice got quieter. Every specialist we went to was baffled. They knew something was wrong with Maggie neurologically, but nothing definitive showed up on any scans or tests.
Finally, we were referred to Gillette Children’s Specialty Healthcare in the Twin Cities. We worked with a neurologist who looked back over Maggie’s MRIs and thought maybe there were some signs of demyelination – the breakdown of the protective coating over the nerve cells that make up the white matter of the brain – and decided to order a urine test “just to rule something out.”
On February 28th, 2020, we received the phone call from Maggie’s neurologist that gave us the answers we simultaneously craved and dreaded. Maggie was diagnosed with a rare genetic disease, Metachromatic Leukodystrophy or MLD, which affects approximately 1 in 40,000 people. My husband and I are both carriers of a defective gene. The odds of two carriers having a child with MLD are 1 in 4. When a child inherits both genes from their parents, their body does not create an enzyme, Arylsulfatase-A, which is responsible for removing cellular waste, called sulfatides, from the body. The accumulation of sulfatides causes the breakdown of the protective myelin sheath in the central and peripheral nervous systems. MLD is terminal with a life expectancy of 2-5 years. In the weeks and months following her diagnosis, Maggie completely lost her ability to walk, talk, and play independently.
Our lives have been completely upended because of Maggie’s disease. February 28th, 2020 stands for our family as a “D-Day” that marks the moment where all of our comfort and security crumbled. We mark time as being “before diagnosis” and “after diagnosis.” But despite all of that change, one thing remains true to this day: Maggie is a fighter. She has held onto her ability to smile and laugh, and she particularly loves to be around her Nanas and her brothers (who she still finds ways of bossing around.) She has learned to say “yes” and “no” with her eyes, and if she doesn’t want to do what you’re suggesting, she will turn her head away and pretend to sleep. We are trialing one treatment to help slow the progression of her disease, and, while we know it is not a cure, it has shown promise.
Life is still overwhelming. We never know what each day will look like with Maggie – whether she will be alert and wanting to interact or sleepy or in pain, and we and her brothers just have to adjust to whatever Maggie needs that day. But, despite all of that, each day she inspires us to love and live fully, to take what we’re given, find ways of working with it, and move forward. We have learned to recognize God’s presence and grace in the flash of her smile and in the kindness of strangers who have reached out to us from all over to share their love and support. We hope that her story will inspire others to love boldly, to smile and laugh often, and to recognize and be instruments of God’s grace.
My name is Maria, and I am a 46 year-old mother of 4 children. I was born in Brownsville, Texas and I moved around a lot when I was younger because of domestic violence and ended up in Florida as I got older, where I had two of my daughters. In 2007 we left to start a new life in Kansas where I had two more beautiful children, a boy and girl. My children mean the world to me and are a very huge motivation for me to get up every day and do my best. Even if it’s been very hard for us, we do it as a team.
The year 2020 has been a rollercoaster of a year for us for sure. Before I was diagnosed with either Fibromyalgia or Crohn’s disease, no one really had answers for what it could be. Most times I would be sent home with just
medicine to handle the pain and no answers. Really it was just constant doctor appointments, hospital stays and long nights with an inflammation in my legs that felt never-ending. It made it very difficult to complete daily tasks or even work. Not being able to go to work was very hard for me financially and also because I had so much love for the small children I would care for at my job.
In June 2020 I had one of the worst and best days of my life. I was diagnosedwith Crohn’s Disease. It felt amazing to finally have an answer for all the symptoms that I was having. That also meant I would be closer to having control of my life again. I started Stallera but before receiving the shot I was having panic attacks and expecting the worst outcome to become real. I had prayed day and night basically; fortunately, I went through with it and did not have a bad reaction. The medication helps manage the flare-ups for the most part. I will continue to receive the treatment every 8 weeks. The downside is it makes me feel very tired and I can’t enjoy activities with my children like I would like to but I thank God every day I get another minute with them.
My mom Dorothy, lovingly know as Dot, was born and raised in Iowa and still resides in the small farm town of Wellsburg, Iowa. My parents have been married for 52 years and together they have three children, 8 grandchildren and another on the way. She enjoys crafting, cooking, gardening, and cruising around in their old convertible looking at the freedom rocks throughout the state.
On the morning of August 24th, life took a very scary and unexpected turn. My mom went from an extremely active 73 year old to not being able to speak and barely breathe within just a matter of hours. The small nearby ER was unable to diagnose why my mom’s health was deteriorating SO very quickly and after an episode where she stopped breathing all together, they decided to transfer her to a larger hospital ICU. It would take multiple tests, consults with doctors around the nation, and a true gift from God for a 
Doctor to finally hypothesize that he thought she had botulism. My mom’s health was rapidly worsening and the ICU doctors let the family know if they didn’t get a treatment plan quickly she would not survive. Because botulism’s official diagnosis can take from 7-10 days to confirm, the Doctor had to work quickly to plead his case to the CDC for an anti-toxin to be flown in on an emergency flight from Atlanta. There are only 100 doses of anti-toxin in the US and without this medicine the toxin eventually attacks all the nerves and muscles in one’s body and they do not survive. Botulism is extremely rare and Type-F (the type my mom had) is the most severe and rare. There have only been 13 cases in the US since 1981, and although they know it is foodborne, the source remains unidentified in the majority of cases.
The anti-toxin saved my mom’s life, but by the time it was administered she had lost her ability to breath and was basically paralyzed from the top down. She could not open her eyes, lift her head up, speak, or do anything on her own. She was able to lift her hands up enough to be able to communicate with us through her hand movements. My mom spent a total of 7 weeks in 4 hospitals learning to do everything all over again – breath, eat, drink, talk, stand, walk, smile…everything. During the majority of her hospital stays, she wasn’t allowed visitors due to COVID. She also could not just pick up the phone to call friends and family because she was unable to speak or hold a phone. Thankfully our family was able to fill her room with “fatheads” of each of us so she could at least see our smiles on those dark days when she wanted to give up. She is currently home to finish her rehabilitation. Faith and family have given her the 
strength to not only regain her life back, but also exceed all of the bench marks doctors give her. Right now my mom is working towards getting her strength and energy levels back. Because her body went through so much she was also diagnosed with “broken heart syndrome” which is a heart beat irregularity that will continue to be monitored. During the x-rays for her tracheotomy they found nodules in her thyroid and will be doing a biopsy of those. She also has to stay home and avoid people as much as possible the next several months. Even 
getting the common cold can compromise her whole health and recovery.
Holiday Streakers is such a great display of hope and love to which our family is very thankful. My mom wants everyone to know to have faith, never give up, and miracles DO still happen!
Dot’s family “visiting” her while hospitalized.
As the Ben Lawrence Family was also a recipient last year. Below is an update since last year.
We are humbled and honored to get to be part of Holiday Streakers again this year. This is an unexpected answer to prayer but the Lord keeps showing me roads I never dreamed of as our needs rise.
This past year Ben has continued to fight his leukemia battle and we even brought in a CML specialist from NY as part of our team. This year has brought continued struggles with treatments and after failing the fifth one, our team decided it was officially time for a bone marrow transplant. They began the hunt for a donor and we received a Christmas miracle when was found and willing. With Ben’s type of 
leukemia and the struggles he has had, they needed a donor willing to give directly from their bone marrow, which is more invasive for the donor. Covid also brought obstacles of knowing they have 72 hours of getting the stem cells from body to body so that meant we had to find a donor here in the US. We are incredibly thankful a match was found and the selfless donor said YES!!!
Now we begin the toughest part of our journey. As I write this, we are preparing to head to Mayo tomorrow for a week of evaluations and testing to prepare for the transplant. We get to come home for Christmas and then Ben and I move to MN on Jan 5th so he can begin chemo. The set date for the transplant is Jan 19th. I will be living in a hotel during this time as Covid doesn’t allow me to spend the night at the hospital. I go during caregiver visitor hours so I can learn my role as his primary caregiver. As soon as he is stable, he will be 
released from the hospital and will be joining me in the hotel by Mayo.
It also means our family will be split. The kids will be divided up and staying with friends and family. The fur babies will go to grandparents. Our oldest is a senior and we are praying we will be back for graduation.
While this is not the hand we would have chosen for our lives, we hope to learn from it and find ways to inspire and impact others. Thank you to all of you for your love, support, and encouragement so far.
We just started a caring bridge page to post updates as we transition to MN. If you would like to follow along, you can find us here: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/benlawrencefamily
Hi, we are the Barta’s. We are a family of five: Michael and Stacey, along with our three kids Bridget (8), Luke (2), and Greta (3 Months). Our daughter, Bridget Barta, has a rare disease called Sanfilippo Type A and that is why we have been nominated this year.
Bridget was born on July 27, 2012. Bridget was a beautiful baby with a TON of hair. She was our first child and we were incredibly happy to be first-time parents! As Bridget reached the age of two and a half, we realized that she seemed to plateau with her developmental milestones. She was a fairly normal kid up until that point, suddenly we noticed some change. As the next year or two passed Bridget not only was missing milestones, but also regressing and forgetting information she had already learned. From basic shapes and colors…to animal sounds…Bridget was becoming confused and simply not remembering things that had come easily a year before.
During her third, fourth, and fifth years of life we struggled as parents. Frustrated with the search to find answers or wondering if we simply were failing as parents. From speech therapy, summer school, OT, PT, and countless doctors….Bridget just seemed to not be able to break through any new milestones. Potty training, bike riding, 
talking, you name it, we couldn’t gain ground. Even simple skills in order to keep her safe while using the stairs, not touching the stove, not running into the street….she could not learn simple things that most little ones pick up naturally. We went to doctor after doctor looking for answers.
It wasn’t just her inability to learn or grow, or her singing suddenly stopping, it was also the side effects of this terrible disease we didn’t realize she had. Never sleeping, being incredibly hyper active, choking constantly on her food, random days of crying and running around in agitation, and some other terrible side effects I’ll leave out. Basically, we were in survival mode.
As the years progressed, we came to terms with the fact that Bridget had special needs. However, we did various tests to try and determine what was going on. We had hopes of finding an answer that would help her and us as a family. The first couple tests came back normal and our months and years of trying to figure out life continued. Finally, through an amazing developmental doctor at Blank Hospital in Des Moines, Dr. Noble, and a more in-depth blood test, we determined that Bridget had Sanfilippo Type A. I remember him giving us that diagnosis on the phone. I immediately jumped on Google to see that the daughter who I love more than life itself had a terrible, rare and fatal disease with a short life expectancy.
Sanfilippo is basically Children’s Alzheimer’s. Imagine your kid living a normal life until 2 or 3, but then all growth stopping….then slowly losing everything until they pass away. The ability to learn, talk, laugh, sing, smile, eat, walk….everything slowly leaves them. It’s like a painful, slow deterioration of your baby and their brain.
I still consider Bridget our baby. She is the sweetest, happiest kid on Earth. Unable to reason things out in her brain….unable to sin or truly do something mean….she only knows love. She is our baby who I have to help walk, eat, and carry around everywhere I go. She is the biggest 1 year old on Earth! Through all the crap and the constant daily battles with this disease…I have realized how important every day is with our family. How important every day is with her. How amazing it is to see Bridget smile…as that is her form of communication now. She is so special to our family and truly made me a better person.
Bridget is eight now. She is still incredibly loving. She’s phenomenal at smiling and gives the best kisses in the world. You may see her wearing a ridiculous pink helmet to protect her from falling, or riding around in her stroller/chair while on walks. After a 
couple miscarriages, in-vitro, and multiple genetic tests, she is joined by her little brother and sister who DO NOT have this terrible disease. Her brother Luke has already advanced far past Bridget and in fact is her caretaker. Luke does everything for that girl – helping her with food, water, and anything she needs. Bridget is starting to realize she now has a little sister in the house too…and we have caught a couple smiles as she looks at the new little baby in our house. Our family is complete for the time being and we hope Bridget will be with us as long as possible.
You can follow along with Bridget’s journey with Sanfilippo here:
11/16/2020 update!
Hey so we have a fantastic update on Brya! She had her follow up MRI yesterday, 11/16/20 and we were expecting to hear the news that her tumor has responded but stayed stable. We were so excited to hear that it is responding and continuing to shrink!! While we know that this wont ever go away we are very hopeful for at least a little more time with our sweet girl. This came at an amazing time as this weekend I had to tell her that one of her friends that she met through the oncology world passed away and she was convinced that she would be next. We celebrated last night with a dinner out, which we don’t do much as she is immune compromised, and she made friends with all of the staff at the restaurant and told them all her wonderful news. Our waitress was so sweet, she knelt beside our table and listened to Brya’s story as well as laughed and cried with her. It was so nice to see her show some emotion with Brya as so many don’t know what to say and just give her a blank stare.
Brya’s story
My daughter Brya is the oldest of 4 girls. She was born in May of 2009, and is now 11 years old. Her sisters are Kaymin (age 10), Ashlynn (age 8), and Savanna (age 5). We actually found out we were pregnant with little Savanna just 2 weeks after Brya’s original diagnosis, and I spent my pregnancy and first 6 months of Savanna’s life in and out of the hospital while my oldest went through treatment.
Just after New Year’s Day in 2015 Brya’s symptoms really began. My step-dad had just passed away, so it was already a hard time, and then Brya got a migraine that just wouldn’t go away. She had this migraine for about 3 solid weeks. After multiple visits to the doctor, where they all told me she was too young for migraines, I was getting nowhere. I was finally able to get her in with her own pediatrician and I told him, “I get migraines, you can’t tell me that my 5 year old curled up in a ball, under a blanket and in tears because the lights and sounds hurts her head, isn’t a migraine. Please don’t be another doctor to tell me she is too 
young for them!” Thankfully, he believed me. He actually walked across the hospital to the neurology clinic and talked to the neurologist there, and came back with an appointment for the following day. I was not happy during that appointment, as I had to beg him to order an MRI, even though I have a family history of benign brain tumors. The neurologist did finally agree to order one, but he was convinced she was just dehydrated. While we were at this appointment Brya had two of what they are calling “pseudo-seizures.” She would be talking to us and then would just suddenly zone out like she was staring off into space for a few minutes. The following day she had one of these at school as well, but this one lasted a lot longer. I had her grandpa pick her up from school and take her home with him. When I went to pick her up after work at 5:30, he said she had been sleeping since 11:15 that morning. When she got in the car I noticed that she wouldn’t turn her head, she turned her whole body. When I asked her to just turn her head she tried and just started crying. At that point I decided enough was enough and I was taking her to the hospital. I took my younger girls home and then immediately took Brya to Blank Children’s Hospital. The resident physician ran a few tests on her that involved running in the halls, as I had told her that her balance was off and she hadn’t been walking in a straight line for a couple days. After they returned from running in the halls I was advised the plan was to get some blood drawn and start an IV for fluids, and then they were going to order a brain CT. We went down for the CT about 9pm and when we came back up Brya fell asleep. About 10:15pm the attending physician came in and said he was going to find someone to come sit with her so that we could go somewhere and 
talk. He took my mom and I into a small family waiting room and told me that the CT had showed a baseball sized mass on her brain stem. We were immediately admitted to the hospital and the next day Brya underwent a 4 hour long MRI of her brain and spine under general anesthesia to confirm the oncologist’s diagnosis of Medulloblastoma. Once she was done with that and started to wake up, we were transferred to Mercy Medical Center for surgery. She was admitted to the PICU and the following morning she was in surgery by 10am to have her tumor removed. This surgery took about 8 hours, and was the longest day of my life. After surgery, she spent 3 days in the PICU and a day and a half on the regular peds floor, and then was discharged home. A couple weeks later she started treatment. She underwent 6 weeks of radiation to her brain and spine as well as 56 weeks of chemotherapy, which included weekly infusions in the clinic and also a once monthly hospital stay for a weekend to get inpatient chemotherapy. She also spent many unplanned stays in the hospital for fevers. Once a kiddo has a port put in, if they get a fever of 100.4 or higher it means an automatic trip the clinic if during regular hours, or the ED if after hours for blood cultures and other labs. During treatment she also had scans every 3 months. Once she was done with treatment we eventually moved to scans every 6 months, and then to yearly. She spent 4 good years NED (No Evidence of Disease), but then in May of 2020 she had a seizure. She woke up one morning and told me she didn’t feel good but couldn’t really explain it, just said her body felt disgusting. I told her to take some ibuprofen and lay back down for a bit. About 45 minutes later my other daughter called me and told me that now Brya was saying she couldn’t breathe and she was too young to die. I rushed out of work and home. I took her to the doctor and they 
said clinically she was fine- her reflexes were great , and her O2 was good as well. They couldn’t find anything physically wrong with her. On the way home, I stopped at Wal-mart to grab toothpaste and mouthwash for my youngest child and when I got back out to the car I went to put my debit card back in my purse and noticed her hand twitching. By the time I sat up from my purse she was in the middle of a full blow grand mal seizure. I called my husband to tell him what was happening and drove her to Blank Children’s Emergency. I dropped her off at the door with a security guard and went to park my car. By the time I got parked and got inside she was having another seizure. I got her registered quick while the nurses and doctors took her to the back. When I walked into her room she started having yet another seizure. They were finally able to get her some medication to help stop them. They did another CT in the ED and that actually didn’t show us anything. She was admitted to the hospital and that afternoon she had an hour long EEG done that caught another seizure. The following day she had her regular yearly MRI done and that showed some swelling on her brain but no tumors. At this time we just assumed the swelling was from the 4 seizures she had the day before. We did however start a work up for any and all infectious diseases and anything we could think of that could have caused the seizures, as she had never had a full blown seizure like that before. These all came 
back negative. We did a spinal tap to check for things and this came back negative as well. She had a follow up MRI about a month later, which showed that the swelling had increased just a little bit and was not getting better as we had hoped. At this point we were referred back to her neurosurgeon at Mercy Medical Center to look into doing a biopsy on the swelling to see what was going on. We went in for a biopsy on July 7th, 2020, and on July 14th we got the call with the results. My sweet 11 year-old baby girl was diagnosed with a terminal high grade Glioma. The life span of kiddos with this tumor is about 13 months. The doctor said that with treatment we may get about a year with her and without treatment we would only get about 6-9 months. We did another MRI in August and it showed that her tumor had grown much faster than we thought it would. At the beginning it was just her right temporal lobe that was affected, but in August the tumor was covering the whole right side of her brain and another grape sized tumor had formed and spread to the left side of her brain as well. We were told at that point that our time frame with her was cut in at least half. We have opted to do treatment and have now completed another 5 weeks of radiation and are getting ready to do her 2nd round of chemo. Towards the end of radiation we did another follow up MRI and found that the tumor has shrunk significantly! We will do another MRI sometime in November to check on the progress after she does her 2nd round of chemo next week.
It was the Spring of 2012 when my husband, Freddie began having difficulty breathing. He would notice this particularly when trying to play basketball in the mornings before work and soon it became difficult for him to breathe at night when he would lie down to sleep. After a couple of visits to our family physician, things were getting progressively worse and so he went in again. This time I came with him. Our doctor ran a few tests, did a chest x-ray, that came back clear, and so then he did blood work. By the afternoon we received a phone call that the blood work did not look good and that we should immediately go to the hospital to get a CT scan of his chest. This is when we were told that Freddie had a large amount of fluid in his lungs that was leaking from his heart (this explained why not only was a game of basketball difficult, but when lying down, he was getting “choked out” by the fluids backing up from his leaking heart) We scheduled an appointment with a cardiologist in Des Moines. He told us the results of his EKG and blood work showed that Freddie had been having “silent heart attacks” and all signs and symptoms point to congestive heart failure. We could not believe what we were hearing.
Prior to this Freddie had always been VERY active and was EXTREMELY athletic, working out at least five days a week, including three early mornings before work to play full-court basketball at the local YMCA, and at least two days of weight lifting. During every season but winter, Freddie was on his mountain bike riding for hours, with a specific love for dirt trails – the more logs and ravines to jump, the better. Freddie coached nearly every sport you could think of; being active and involved in athletics was truly one of his passions. So this news hit him, hit us, especially hard.
After more tests and echos and a couple of daily meds, he seemed to really be doing fine. He would take it easier than he had before in terms of physical activity, but really, the rest of his summer was pretty low stress, which was a good thing, because we were expecting a baby boy in the Fall. Unfortunately, the Fall came and his health took a nosedive QUICKLY. By the time we went back to school (I work for Des Moines Public Schools, and at that time, Freddie was working for DMPS too) he was very ill, eating only an apple each day or forcing himself to drink an Ensure drink too. Breathing was VERY difficult for him and each day got scarier. We were fearful and there were a lot of tears. There were also a lot of appointments for bloodwork, echos, EKGs, Holter monitors, and a couple of hospital stays.
Through all of this I am creeping closer to my due date, adding more worry to what we were already facing. Finally, it was decided after a couple of days in our local hospital and Freddie receiving two IV drips to treat heart failure that he would be transported to Mayo in Rochester by ambulance. It goes without saying, I followed closely behind. His first day there, I will never forget meeting one of the cardiologists that told me, “He doesn’t have weeks to live, he has days…”
He was moved to the ICU the next morning, and this is where he stayed for the next 28 days. I slept on a cot each night, not wanting to leave his side. It wasn’t long before the Center of Disease Control and doctors tried to figure out how someone so healthy became sick so quickly. Cardiologists went in through his jugular and did a biopsy of his heart to see if they could pinpoint what virus might have initiated his viral myocarditis (heart failure caused by a virus) but they couldn’t find anything unusual or rare. Their conclusion was that he simply had a bad cold and when his immune system was “down” the virus attacked his heart.
By the next day he had a balloon pump placed into his heart in the hopes that this pump, along with the IV drips would take the stress and some inflammation from his heart. He stayed lying flat for 14 days with no sign of improvement, but not from a lack of prayer. It was then that the cardiologists, surgeons and LVAD coordinators felt it was best that he move forward with an open heart surgery to place a Left Ventricular Assist Device (LVAD) into his heart in order to keep him alive while he wait on a heart transplant. Needless to say, this time was very emotional for us (an open heart surgery, finding out he needed a heart transplant, a baby on the way in a few weeks) but also a time when all we could do was lean into our friends, family and faith, trusting that The Lord would be with Freddie through it all.
The surgery was successful, and after his week and half recovery, Freddie was allowed to go home. A week later, in November 2012, I had a c-section and the sweetest little boy, Zion Amari, was born. I was so happy that I had Zion in Des Moines (rather than in MN) and even more joy-filled, that Freddie was right there by my side.
It is fair to say that recovery had been long with weeks of cardiac rehab, managing 15-20 meds a day and numerous set-backs all while managing life with a newborn. Freddie got used to living life with a driveline that led from his heart, out of his abdomen (which required daily sterile cleaning) and connected to a large controller and batteries that he carried in a pack or bag or vest 24/7. This included of course, a special waterproof bag that went with him even into the shower. This is also the time where the official wait for a new heart began. Freddie lived at home with the LVAD keeping him alive and all was fine until spring/summer of 2013. His health began to decline rapidly again. (ICD placed in March of 2013, ICD removed in August 2013 and a pacemaker replacing the ICD) I took him back and forth to and from home to Mayo more times than I could count. His kidneys began to struggle at this time too. (They were busy flushing so much fluid that began to leak again from the heart that they never got the blood supply they needed, so they started to fail.) By the end of the summer cardiologists had him living at Mayo-St.Mary’s Hospital in Rochester, MN for around-the-clock care. While he lived at Mayo, I would stay at home with Zion and Freddie’s big kids, my stepkids (teenagers at the time) so I could teach middle school all week. (I knew I needed to maintain income and insurance and save my leave from work for his transplant.) I’d always pack the car on Thursday night so after teaching on Friday we could head to Mayo to visit Freddie for the weekend. Finally, by the Fall, even while living at Mayo, he had gotten very sick. His LVAD just wasn’t able to help any longer and his heart was failing him again. He was taken into surgery and his heart was removed and was replaced with a Total Artificial Heart (TAH) and he began bedside dialysis. This was a few days before Thanksgiving of 2013. Freddie continued to live in the ICU at St. Mary’s. My kids and I would continue to go back and forth to visit him. In January I received a phone call after school one day. There were cardiologists with Freddie to tell me that his match had arrived. That night Freddie was in surgery and he received the most generous gifts, a heart and kidney, from a 21-year old donor, Steve, who passed away in a wintry car accident. Freddie and I had to live in Rochester for three months after his transplants in order to attend all of the appointments. We rented an apartment while still paying our mortgage back home. It was surely a whirlwind with a baby and being a caregiver to Freddie too. Since then we’ve been so touched to meet Steve’s family. They are so kind-hearted and they bless us whenever we see them or get a card from them in the mail. Unfortunately, we had to tell them last year that Steve’s heart and kidney are failing Freddie. He spent all of 2019 very sick again with multiple trips to and from Mayo and many stays in St. Mary’s as well. He has been officially listed for another heart and kidney. So…we wait again for the match for him. We know so much of what we are facing. For example, we know all about life with immunosuppressive drugs, heart biopsies, and trips to and from Mayo. We also know we will have to find a way for me to afford to take time off of work to be with Freddie for the surgeries and months of recovery. We know that we will need to find a place to live in Rochester while still paying for the mortgage in Des Moines. We know so much about what to expect, yet there is so much underlying worry and fear of what will be different this time. Freddie has been opened three times already (LVAD, TAH, and transplant) so there is more danger with this next sternotomy and scar tissue. This time around Zion isn’t a baby and I can’t haul him in a carrier or in a stroller. He is a second grader. There is stress around what will happen for him with school and time away from home or time away from us if he stays with family. However, we also know that we will be okay, we will get through this again because our families and friends and even people we will never meet, like the Holiday Streakers, will be with us to lift us up and support us on Freddie’s continued journey to another heart and kidney transplant. The kindness of others has blessed us continually over the years so I don’t have any reason to think the blessings, prayers, love and support will stop now.
If you would like to read about Freddie’s journey to his next gifts of life through organ donation, you can follow his Caring Bridge here: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/freddiewindsor
Grant was born on his due date. He was your typical rambunctious boy and seemed to be physically ahead of his time. Soon after Grant turned 2, he got a fever every day, but not all day long. After 5 days of fever we took him to the pediatrician thinking he had an ear infection. Everything came back fine. They told us to come back in 2 days if he spikes a fever again. He did so we took him back. Everything checked out fine again and he did not have a fever. They said it was probably a virus upon another virus and we went home. He spiked a fever around dinner time that same night so we were told to take him to Children’s Hospital since they can do more testing. It was a Monday, and we were not in a hurry, so we took him in after dinner. Little did we know he would not go home for 2 weeks. After an x-ray, ultrasound then many more scans over the next couple of days, then a biopsy, we were told the earth-shattering news that Grant has Stage 4 high risk neuroblastoma. We had never heard of that before. From there things happened so fast. He had a line placed in his chest. There was a complication from that surgery that resulted in him being in the ICU with a tube in his chest to drain the blood. Soon after chemo started. We were released from the hospital Christmas Eve. From there Grant had more chemo, more ICU stays, had a 12-hour surgery in New York City, more chemo at home, immunotherapy, and proton radiation at Mayo. Treatment started December 2016. Grant was considered stable (he has one spot on his skull that has remained stable since December 2017). 
Grant started a vaccine trial at Memorial Sloan Kettering in NYC in May 2018. He even had his line removed from his chest! We could not be happier, and everything was on track that he would be cured! On his 5th vaccine shot in September 2018 (which is like having hot lava injected in your skin that causes pain, redness and swelling) we found out he had relapsed. He relapsed in his bones, soft tissue, and bone marrow. He has been in active relapse treatment since and has endured many harsh treatments that come with a magnitude of side effects. Everything was going well until April 2020 where he progressed 2mm and 6 mm and it was causing leg pain. He received more radiation and that worked. His pain went away almost immediately.
We switched up the treatment he was on, but that was proven to be ineffective as a new spot on his skull showed up 8 weeks later. Not sure if it was truly a new spot we scanned again, and 3 more spots showed up. We headed back down to Mayo to get set up for his 3rd round of radiation. It was on the MRI that was done for the planning for the spot on his skull they told us there was a brain lesion. It is rare for a brain relapse to happen this far out from diagnosis. The team out in New York made the protocol for brain relapse. Before 
them, there was no cure. The doctor in New York was not convinced it was a true brain tumor and reviewed everything with the team there. The only was to know for sure was to have surgery. We flew out to New York City and Grant had brain surgery. This was on September 15th. He was released 48 hours after surgery. The surgeon talked to us after surgery and said he did not see any obvious signs of cancer, so we had so much hope that is really was not cancer. We waited over a week for pathology to come back and it did come back as neuroblastoma. We flew back home to do chemo and get re-set up for total brain and spine radiation. Grant is just finishing radiation. We need to scan again to determine the next step.
Grant has had a ton of chemo, countless pokes, many blood and platelet transfusions, many small surgeries, so many hospital stays, and been sedated over 100 times. All these treatments come with horrible side effects including (but not 
limited to) hearing loss, growth issues, losing his hair multiple times, nausea, vomiting, gut issues, thyroid issues, he may need a hip replacement by the time he is a teenager, lower IQ, cognitive issues, and the list goes on. It is horrible hearing the side effects. All in his 5 years of life. As a parent, you want to protect them and take it all away and wish you could take their place. Grant is just the cutest, sweetest little boy and very smart. He also has an awesome older sister and wonderful little brother that wants to do everything Grant wants to do. Grant has endured horrendous things these past 4 years he has been in treatment, but it is amazing seeing him smiling and having fun. I was told I had cancer when I was pregnant with Grant. That is extremely hard to hear. Being told your child has cancer is indescribably so much worse.
Our family has been blessed by so many with their prayers, meals, financial support, and overall kindness. In this journey you feel very alone, so being reminded by people that they still care and pray really helps us through. Right when you wonder how we are going to make it through, we get a wonderful blessing such as being nominated for Holiday Streakers. It is a roller coaster of emotions that takes a toll on everything in your life and changes how you live.
Rowan’s Story, as told by her mother, Rachel:
Rowan was born on October 5, 2019, five days before her guess date. After ten hours of labor, our perfect, healthy baby girl was in our arms and in that moment, our world changed forever.
Rowan was perfect in every way. Her cheeks were full and round, her eyes big and expressive. Our families fell in love instantly with Rowan’s bubbly personality as it developed over the next few months. I remember her first smiles, her first laugh, and her delight at learning to express herself. For several months, Rowan continued to meet developmental milestones and we never had any reason to question her health.
Between four and seven months of age, Rowan developed a number of unusual symptoms. At first, Rowan’s doctor thought a respiratory infection was responsible for the persistent cough that she had, but the longer it persisted, the more suspicious we became. Rowan also began gagging and vomiting after coughing fits, both of which became more and more frequent. She went from sleeping several consecutive hours at night to cluster-feeding all night long. She grew increasingly uncomfortable during tummy time and arched her back while breastfeeding. She developed a firm abdomen and stopped burping following feedings, leading us to believe she had lots of gas that was making her uncomfortable.
May arrived, and I consulted with Rowan’s doctor after hours of independent online research. Her doctor ordered a chest x-ray and blood work to rule out infection to explain the cough. The x-ray and blood work showed no signs of infection, rather at that time, the blood work revealed only a very mild anemia with no discernable cause. At that visit, I requested a consultation with a pediatrician to explore the possibility of infant reflux. My research had led me to conclude that reflux would explain several of Rowan’s symptoms. Little did we know that our world would change forever for a second time on May 6,, 2020.
At that appointment, as I attempted to justify why I thought Rowan may have reflux, the pediatrician informed me that Rowan’s abdomen appeared bloated, and asked me politely if she could feel my daughter’s belly. Upon hearing the pediatrician speak the words “I feel what I believe to be a mass in Rowan’s abdomen. I think it is in the liver but I need a CT scan to confirm its location,” I was speechless. In a split second, I went from utter surprise to denial to incredulity. I had come to consult with the pediatrician about the possibility of gastric reflux. Not cancer. Please God, not cancer. Even after being told that a liver mass was very likely, my medical brain took over, and looking for the smallest glimmer of hope for a different diagnosis, I asked the pediatrician, “What are your top three differentials?” She looked me in the eye and repeated, “I believe your daughter has a mass in her liver, I believe your daughter has cancer.” Then came acceptance, and I lost sight of everything in the room as my eyes filled with tears and I clung to my baby.
The rest of that day is full of blurred memories. I called Noah to explain that we needed to take Rowan to the hospital for an emergent CT scan. The diagnosis of a liver mass was confirmed. The mass was approximately four times the size a normal liver should be in an infant Rowan’s size. We were then transported by ambulance to Blank Children’s Hospital in Des Moines, Iowa. At ten-o-clock at night, we met with the on-call pediatric oncologist who would become Rowan’s primary doctor. She explained that there were two main differentials for the cancer in Rowan’s liver, but that her primary suspicion was a cancer called hepatoblastoma. She explained that over the next few days, Rowan would be sedated to undergo a series of imaging diagnostics, a liver biopsy, placement of a central catheter for chemotherapy administration, and placement of a nasogastric tube (NG) for supplemental feeds should she stop nursing following the initiation of chemotherapy. And finally, we were informed that as a result of hospital policy pertaining to COVID, Noah was not allowed to stay in the hospital with us.
Rowan and I spent ten days in the hospital for our first hospitalization, and Noah was allowed to visit with us for approximately one hour at a time. At the time, we lived 45 minutes from the hospital, so he only found it possible to visit once each day. I spent my first Mother’s Day in the hospital, alone with my baby. I attended my class’ virtual graduation ceremony from veterinary school and recited the Veterinarian’s Oath in our hospital room. Family members and several friends of family sent cards and flowers to ease the pain of the nightmare that had become our reality.
Rowan’s liver biopsy confirmed a diagnosis of hepatoblastoma. Of the pediatric cancers occurring in the liver, hepatoblastoma is the most common. Despite being “common” among pediatric liver cancers, this type of cancer accounts for less than 1% of pediatric cancer overall. Approximately one in a million children worldwide are diagnosed with hepatoblastoma.
We agreed to participate in a study that seeks to standardize a treatment protocol between the US and Europe for hepatoblastoma. Rowan was randomly selected to undergo treatment according to the current US standard, which consists of six cycles of chemotherapy and surgery either to resect (remove) the tumor or to receive a liver transplant.
Medications to alleviate nausea and pain were administered through Rowan’s NG tube. Because Rowan’s tumor compressed her stomach and limited her feed intake, Noah and I also supplemented my stored breastmilk through the NG tube approximately ten times a day. But after five weeks, Rowan was not gaining weight or following appropriate growth curves. She lost two pounds since the time of her diagnosis, and at that time her team felt it was necessary to begin total parenteral nutrition (TPN), which provides adequate amounts of proteins, lipids (fats), vitamins, and electrolytes through her central line (IV catheter). It was difficult to accept that our baby needed this degree of support to sustain her, but we were also relieved that her tumor and frequent vomiting would no longer limit her ability to receive adequate nutrition.
After four cycles of chemotherapy, Rowan’s tumor had shrunk by approximately 40 percent. Despite a fantastic response to chemotherapy, Rowan’s team determined that a liver transplant was most appropriate for her moving forward. A unique fact about the liver is its capacity to regenerate and because of this, a living adult can elect to donate a part of their liver to a transplant candidate. A donor, who wishes to be kept anonymous, came forward to offer a portion of their liver in a most selfless and generous act to give Rowan the best chance possible at a successful transplant and a healthy, disease-free liver. After undergoing a thorough medical evaluation and several tests, Rowan’s donor was approved, and the transplant was scheduled for August 11, 2020.
We spent 32 days in Omaha, Nebraska to have one of the top transplant teams in the nation conduct Rowan’s transplant. Once again, Noah was not allowed to stay in the hospital with us. Rowan’s transplant was overall a wonderful success and she suffered no serious complications. The first few days were impossibly difficult to endure. For 24 hours, Rowan remained under sedation on a ventilator as part of protocol because the amount of fluid she received during surgery could cause fluid retention in her lungs. When she was taken off of the ventilator, she was in so much pain from the surgery and from fluid retention under her skin (four pounds of fluid to be precise, a quarter of her body weight). With each day that passed, she improved considerably. And finally, four days after surgery and much to our surprise, our little warrior was sitting up, playing, and talking like herself again. After what felt like an eternity, we finally felt like we could breathe again. We had our baby back. One week after she received her new liver, Rowan underwent a second surgery to receive a stomach tube (G-tube), which prolonged our hospitalization but would serve to make administering medications and future feed supplementation much easier for her.
While in Omaha, we started Rowan’s fifth cycle of chemotherapy before returning home. Starting her fifth cycle was a bittersweet moment for us. During the month break from chemotherapy in Omaha, Rowan had grown eyelashes, eyebrows, and her hair back, and she felt better than she had in months. As happy as we were to be so much closer to the end, we knew that the weeks ahead would be long and hard. Not only would Rowan’s immune system be suppressed as a result of chemotherapy, but the steroids and anti-rejection medication which are required for her transplant cause further immune suppression.
We also knew we would be cutting it close by returning home when we did during her fifth cycle. Because the chemotherapy drugs Rowan received were so hard on her immune system, she had always gotten sick to the point that required a mid-cycle hospitalization. And sure enough, on our first night home, Rowan developed a fever that required her to be hospitalized in the middle of the night. We had been home for no more than nine hours before returning to our home hospital in Des Moines. Despite wishing we could have spent more time at home, we were simply happy to be back with a team that we had come to know and love. We spent several days in the hospital because Rowan’s immune system could not fight the infection that had developed at her G-tube site. We had never seen our little girl suffer as much as she did during her fifth cycle, and we returned home for only three days before it was time to return for cycle six.
With each cycle of chemotherapy, the body recovers slower than before. We missed our bubbly, smiley girl who wanted nothing more than to smile, play, and laugh, but simply did not have the energy most days. During her sixth and final cycle of chemotherapy, Rowan received no less than four blood transfusions and two platelet transfusions. She developed another infection at her G-tube site and had persistent fevers higher than we had ever seen, which failed to respond to antibiotics for several days. Her body was begging for a break from all it had endured over the previous five months. Rowan spent her first birthday in the hospital, and for a couple hours a day, she felt well enough to participate in the celebration. We filled the ceiling above her bed with balloons and a “One in a Million” banner, and friends and family from all over the country sent cards and gifts for her to open. Her first birthday was nothing like we imagined and yet everything we could have hoped for. Even though she didn’t get to see her family, our girl spent her birthday week surrounded by people who love her like family.
Finally, on October 14th, Rowan’s chemotherapy came to an end. At last, we were home with no impending hospitalizations in the foreseeable future. Rowan’s post-treatment tests and scans were scheduled that same week. One hundred and sixty-six days after her initial diagnosis, Rowan was declared cancer-free. Rowan had endured so much since May: 126 days of chemotherapy, 73 days in the hospital, 32 days in Omaha, 27 blood transfusions, three platelet transfusions, and one liver transplant. Although Rowan won’t remember these events and everything she has endured, the day will come that she will understand how strong she had to be. Through it all, Rowan has shown us all what true strength looks like as well as what pure joy looks like.
A chapter of Rowan’s story has come to a close, but her journey is far from over. Right now, Rowan’s G-tube makes administering medications quite simple, but one day soon, she will need to take those medications by mouth through a syringe. One day, she will learn to swallow pills. One day, she will learn to keep her own schedule for taking her anti-rejection medication. Right now, Rowan’s central line (Hickman catheter) makes taking blood samples easy and painless. But soon, she will learn that taking blood samples is going to hurt, because needles will be involved. And one day, she will understand why the needles are necessary. Right now, ensuring adequate nutrition is simple thanks to TPN (total parenteral nutrition) administered through her catheter. But soon, Rowan will need to be weaned from this nutrition source because long-term TPN can compromise the health of her new liver. Because Rowan has not shown interest in taking food by mouth as a result of chemotherapy and frequent vomiting, her team will find alternative ways to ensure she receives the nutrients she needs for proper growth and development.
Though we will try our best, Rowan will never have a completely “normal” childhood. She will never receive certain vaccinations because her immune system cannot respond appropriately as a result of her medication. She will never experience the taste of a pomegranate or grapefruit because they can significantly alter the absorption of her anti-rejection medication. She will never swim in lakes or ponds because there are high risk infections that can come from those sources, which her immune system will not be strong enough to fight. As often as possible, she will not be exposed to people who are displaying symptoms of sickness. She will not take new medications, nutritional supplements, or consume energy drinks without first consulting with her transplant team. She will have to be very careful to reduce exposure to sunlight and when spending time outside, she must frequently apply sunscreen. For the rest of her life, she will have to choose travel destinations carefully and may receive additional vaccinations appropriate for her destination.
We always knew that Rowan was special. Now knowing that she is “one in a million” only solidifies what we have known since we first brought her home. Our girl is a warrior who has won so many battles in such a short time, and this is only the beginning of her journey.
Rowan’s story and GoFundMe is open to the public through her Facebook blog titled Rowan’s Story.
In March of 2018, we received the devastating news that Ben has leukemia. Our world fell apart.
Ben had gone in for a physical to check his blood pressure, and mentioned that his stomach was sensitive to the touch. He had taken a hit to the stomach while coaching wrestling, and we wondered if he’d injured his spleen. The doctor ordered some tests and an ultrasound. We were expecting to hear that he needed some medicine for high blood pressure and possible treatment for his spleen. Cancer was the last thing on our minds.
Instead, we got a call that Ben has leukemia. Those next few weeks seemed like an eternity as we waited for an oncology appointment and the results from a bone marrow biopsy. We then learned that Ben has Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia (CML).
We were flooded with sadness and fear and uncertainty. Questions about the what-ifs of our future kept us up at night. Ben has always worked, while I stayed at home with our five kids. Could Ben keep working? Would I have to start? What would insurance cover? How would Ben get to his appointments? How would the kids adjust, who already were adjusting to new schools and friends after our recent move to Ankeny?
Regarding treatment, the doctors were initially optimistic and prescribed target chemo with a daily pill. They thought Ben, at only 39 years old, should respond well and his cancer would be easily controlled.
Unfortunately, cancer is unpredictable, and it didn’t take long to figure out Ben isn’t the norm when it comes to leukemia. There are five treatment options, and he has failed four of them.
Ben can never complete a round of treatment as his good numbers drop too low and it becomes too dangerous to continue. He has had some blood transfusions but doctors are conservative with them, knowing a bone marrow transplant is around the corner.
But a transplant comes with many complications, so the doctors want to make sure they know we have exhausted all our options. With a transplant, they take you to the brink of death and then bring you back again. A BMT comes with a long negative list, including potentially not surviving the transplant, possible transplant failure (sometimes the transplant doesn’t take, so no cure), the body fighting the transplanted cells and vice versa (painful and possibly debilitating graft vs host disease), the risk of causing a secondary cancer, and so on.
Then there are the logistics of a transplant — Ben and I would have to move to Minnesota for at least three months, living in a hotel near the hospital. We would have to line up care for our kiddos at home and have them come visit on the weekends, when possible.
On top of all that, it is a frustrating battle of helplessness, exhaustion, vertigo, bone/joint pain, medical bills and various other side effects – we don’t ever get a “break.”
As a family, we are trying to find our new normal. Ben has a positive attitude and continues to work. I am trying to figure out how to be there for Ben and the kids, and balance going back to work in addition to my home duties and endless appointments.
One of the hardest things is figuring how to talk to the kids about it and how to answer their hard questions — trying to provide comfort and security without making any promises.
Which is not to say there are no blessings within all the pain. We do have a new perspective of the gift of life, and on the importance of never taking a day for granted. We are reminded that we only get ONE — one life, one body, one shot at this, so instead of getting sucked into the negatives, we are pressing forward with the best we’ve got. Life is a gift that should be cherished, no matter the circumstances.
The journey is hard and the road is still very long, but we are grateful for the love, prayers, support and encouragement of our family and friends, and those people who barely know us.
Thank you for reading our story. If you would like to continue to follow along, we have a Facebook page where we share updates. You can find us at Life with the Lawrences.
Austin turned 3 years old in July and has already endured so much in his little lifetime. On June 20, 2017, the world in which Austin and his family knew…was forever changed.
It was just a few weeks before his 1st birthday when they discovered that Austin had a very rare, benign brain tumor, called “craniopharyngioma.” This is especially rare in someone as young as Austin. Austin underwent his first brain surgery before he even turned 1 and celebrated his 1st birthday in the hospital. Since then, Austin had to undergo another brain surgery, when he was 18 months old, and 30 rounds of proton radiation, while being sedated every day. During the first two surgeries, the doctors were able to drain the “cyst or tumor” and treatments were considered a success. Many prayers continued and the tumor remained under control so-to-say. However, on August 19, 2019, we were told that the tumor had grown and that another brain surgery was unavoidable. However, this surgery is by far, a much more invasive surgery and there are serious implications of what could result from having this type of surgery. It is currently scheduled for October 22nd. This surgery will
involve a “full craniotomy.” Recovery is significant, anywhere from 5 days to a month. We will be staying at St. Jude in Tennessee during that time, away from our other 3 kids. If the tumor were to continue to grow, it will ruin anything that is in its way. This includes Austin’s pituitary gland, hypothalamus, and optic nerve! Of course, these are important structures and have many functions for quality of life. We have a large prayer network across many states known as Austin’s Army and we would appreciate any and all prayers from Holiday Streakers both for the surgery and for Austin’s long term recovery! For more information about our journey, Austin’s Caring Bridge site is: https://www.caringbridge.org/visit/austinmollhoff
Help Holiday Streakers support Austin and his family by registering today!
Blank Children’s Hospital
The Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center, Iowa’s first children’s cancer center, opened at Blank Children’s Hospital in 1987 – concentrating all phases of pediatric cancer diagnosis and treatment in one unique area. Today, Blank Children’s Hospital is one of only two hospitals in Iowa treating children, adolescents, and young adults with cancer. Designed to accommodate the needs of both children and young adults, the Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center provides comprehensive and coordinated medical care by an interdisciplinary team of pediatric specialists.
Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center has received NCQA Recognition as a Patient-Centered Specialty Practice (PCSP). Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorder Center was the first pediatric cancer center to receive this impressive recognition. Practices that become recognized under Patient-Centered Specialty Practice Recognition have demonstrated a commitment to patient-centered care and clinical quality through streamlined referral processes and care coordination with referring clinicians, timely patient, and caregiver-focused care management and continuous clinical quality improvement.
Holiday Streaker’s donation will benefit the Cancer and Blood Disorders Center.
About the Cancer and Blood Disorders Center
500-600 patients currently caring for.
50-60 new cancer diagnoses per year.
The most common cancer diagnosis is Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL).
More than 225 patients enrolled in clinical trials.
200 new hematology diagnoses per year.
Most common blood disorder is anemia and thrombocytopenia.
7,000 infusions performed each year.
200 procedures performed each year.
Specifically, the Holiday Streakers will support the Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorder Center Compassion Fund. The Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorder Center Compassion Fund is designed to provide additional support to patients and families beyond what the Cancer and Blood Disorder Center is able to provide. Assistance is based on financial need and is designed to assist with the unique, medical needs of patients and families. This program is supported by 100% philanthropy and would not be possible without the generous contributions of individuals and groups such as the Holiday Streakers. The fund as supported items such as transportation costs and gas cards, meal tickets, travel expenses, prescription costs, equipment needs, and even paying for electricity, water, or rent to help the family.
Hundreds of families have been impacted by the Compassion Fund. Here are a few examples of how the fund has helped our patients and their families.
– Provided ongoing gas cards for a patient’s family who was traveling 3 days a week from two hours away for treatment.
– Helped purchase a shower chair, so the family could provide a safe shower for their child when they were weak from treatments.
– Provided three nights of lodging for the family of a patient as the child was getting additional treatment in Minneapolis.
Thank you Holiday Streakers for choosing to support Blank Children’s Hospital!
-Allisa McKinney
Aila Nesbitt (pronounced: A-luh)was diagnosed with B-Cell ALL Leukemia in July of 2018 when she was just three-years-old. In the weeks prior to her diagnosis, Aila had been fighting several colds and fevers off and on, and had coincidently hurt her knee while playing on the trampoline (one of her favorite activities). Out of precaution, Aila’s pediatric doctor decided to run blood tests to make sure nothing more-serious was going on; several days later, we were called in over the weekend for additional testing and x-rays as her counts were slightly off.
Two weeks (and several trips to Urgent Care) later, we were still waiting for answers while Aila’s persistent illness still remained a mystery. After our third trip to Urgent care, reassuring us it was likely a piggyback virus, Aila’s fever spiked to 105 degrees. We turned right back around this time to the Mercy ER, and from there after bloodwork, she was rushed by ambulance to Blank Children’s Hospital in Des Moines, Iowa where we met with the hematologist/oncologist staff. Several days later, we were stunned by the words we were told: “I’m sorry, but It is Leukemia.”
Aila is currently being treated at Blank Children’s Hospital, where she has been 
receiving chemotherapy on a weekly basis. Her high-risk treatment plan has involved several blood transfusions, multiple sedations for bone marrow biopsies, lumbar punctures, countless pokes, pills, and tears than any three-year-old should ever have to endure. On her third round of Pegaspargase chemotherapy, she went into anaphylactic shock and was hospitalized in the PICU for several days. This changed the course of her original treatment plan and received the alternative chemotherapy, Erwinia, which required six times as many infusions.
We are so proud of the progress she has made and the obstacles that she has overcome throughout this journey. During her first month of chemotherapy, she lost the ability to walk due to leg neuropathy, and needed leg casts for five weeks, to combat the effects from the chemo; she currently has around 6 months of leg braces, but through weekly physical therapy, she has slowly regained the strength to walk (and jump and dance)! She is also as selfless as she is strong always asking about others if they are ill or not feeling well, and even wiping away Mommy’s tears on really hard days, saying, “It will be ok Mommy.”
Although the prognosis is hopeful for this type of cancer, we anticipate there will be many ups and downs over the next two years. I thought after 6 months the pokes, pills, and sedations for our little girl, everything overall would get ‘easier.’ The truth is, it hasn’t gotten easier at all. Our lives are forever changed as we continue on this journey with Aila for a cure and try to adjust to a new ‘normal.’ We are beyond blessed that God chose us to be her parents and pray she will do amazing things with her brave story through her own cancer journey, by helping others going through similar experiences. She is a fighter and will continue to show the world that faith is bigger than fear.
Founded in 1897, Children’s Mercy is one of the nation’s top pediatric medical centers. With not-for-profit hospitals in Missouri and Kansas and numerous specialty clinics in both states, Children’s Mercy provides the highest level of care for children from birth through the age of 21. U.S. News & World Report has repeatedly ranked Children’s Mercy as one of “America’s Best Children’s Hospitals.” For the fifth time in a row, Children’s Mercy has achieved Magnet nursing designation, awarded to fewer than seven percent of all hospitals nationally, for excellence in quality care. Its faculty of more than 700 pediatric subspecialists and researchers across more than 40 subspecialties are actively involved in clinical care, pediatric research, and educating the next generation of pediatric subspecialists. Thanks to generous philanthropic and volunteer support, Children’s Mercy provides medical care to every child who passes through its doors, regardless of a family’s ability to pay. For more information about Children’s Mercy and its research, visit childrensmercy.org. For breaking news and videos, follow us on Twitter, YouTube, and Facebook.
Our LOVE will find answers.
Children’s Mercy is building a new nine-floor Children’s Research Institute (CRI) – a building dedicated to expanding and 
accelerating our efforts to bring answers to waiting children and families. When the CRI is complete, Children’s Mercy will have five-and-a-half times more space dedicated to research than it does today, and we will more than triple the number of staff working each day to find answers for children and families in Kansas City, and around the world.
The National Institutes of Health allocates only 10 percent of its $37 billion research budget to pediatrics, while only 5 percent of more than 7,000 rare pediatric diseases have an FDA-approved drug. Put simply, this lack of funding and focus means kids are being left behind. The CRI will move kids to the front of the line.
In the new Children’s Research Institute, our physician-scientist will work hard every day to answer your biggest question – why do children get sick and how can we prevent and cure their diseases? The discoveries unlocked in the CRI will allow us to diagnose more quickly, treat more precisely, and cure and prevent childhood diseases. Together, our love will find answers. Donors like you will fuel answers for waiting children and families. Give today and support the discoveries of tomorrow.
In 2016, Ryan was diagnosed with amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), aka Lou Gehrig’s Disease. At just 36, which is young for the disease, he was a healthy, active, basketball-playing, wrestle-on-the-ground dad. It was sudden and absolutely devastating. ALS has no cure and the life expectancy is a mere two to five years from diagnosis.
Our family learned very quickly the true meaning of living life to the fullest. We have two children who are now seven and four years old. Daddy having ALS is all they know. The first two years we were able to keep our chins up a little higher, not letting ALS steal the fun: taking meaningful family trips, dressing up for Halloween, camping, making it to school events with ease, etc. A wheelchair was not going to stop us!
This year it has been much harder to ignore what is really happening. We’ve had two 
whirlwind visits to the ER since June for blood clots on the lungs and choking. As ALS creeps upward (Ryan first lost strength in his legs, then arms and trunk), the impact on our hearts and heads is felt much deeper by all of us, including the kids. Ryan most recently lost his voice [for good] and has fully transitioned from eating table food to feeding tube nutrition. We are also preparing for the addition of a breathing machine at night.
As Ryan continues to get weaker, the worries are ever present. We dread cold and flu season, and the possibility of illness. Even if mild, Ryan will have to fight much harder than the rest of us. Pneumonia will most certainly land us in the hospital again. Our kids have seen Daddy leave by ambulance too many times.
Ours is a sad story but we are humbled by your mission and grateful for your support. Thank you for streakin’ for families like ours! With love, The Toftelands
My name is Jessica Kramer and I am a Breast Cancer on-going survivor, also known as living with Metastatic Breast Cancer. Here is my journey. On January 12th 2007, my husband and I welcomed our first baby girl into the world, Sophie Elizabeth. After many struggles to get pregnant and stay pregnant, God finally blessed us with a precious baby. What a blessing!
Fast forward 7 months later, Sophie had almost a full set of teeth, she was crawling, clapping, babbling, and was so much fun. One day after I was done nursing, I felt a lump on my left breast. Not thinking too much about it, I scheduled an appointment to get it checked out. After many doctor visits and tests, I received the call on August 29th, 2007 telling me that I had breast cancer. I remember placing Sophie on the bed and just hugging my husband and crying. No this could not be happening to me!
I don’t really remember a lot of what happened in the next few weeks. I had met with different doctors. They talked about what I would have to do, what my treatment was going to be, when my surgery would be, etc. That part is all a fog and I still don’t remember really how I made it through from one day to the next. How was I supposed to care for my little baby, take care of my family, and take care of myself??
On September 4th, 2007 I had a lumpectomy to remove the lump in my left breast. I was diagnosed with Stage II Breast cancer. My mom Gayle is luckily a nurse and took care of me when I had all those fun tubes and bandages hanging off my body. Something I could not stand to see and something I didn’t want my husband to see. I couldn’t have him look at me with all these new scars and tubes and bandages. I wasn’t the same woman he married. At the time I was diagnosed my mom was living in Florida. In November she moved back to Iowa to be closer to us. To this day she will never know how much that meant to me. To be there for us, to take care of Sophie, and to take care of me. Along with my mom, I had WONDERFUL neighbors, friends, family, and complete strangers taking care of us. We had meals delivered, we had a house cleaner, we had people to take Sophie when I went to the dr. We were very well taken care of. I still have people that say they prayed for me and I don’t even know them. I practically had prayers from every state! The power of prayer!!
On October 19th 2007, I started my first round of chemotherapy. What an experience. Long hours at the dr. getting treatment, 
robbing me time with Sophie, robbing me of doing the day to day things that we take for granted. I didn’t get as sick as some people, which I was so thankful for. Before I lost all my hair, I took some friends with me to get my hair cut short and to find a wig. I remember one morning taking a shower and there it was, the last of my hair, it was going down the drain. I don’t know if you can ever prepare yourself for that moment. It takes a toll on you, it made me feel like I was losing the fight. Cancer was getting the best of me, it was beating me. I sat down and cried. I was bound and determined to watch Sophie grow up, take trips with my husband, and enjoy life. Cancer was not going to beat me!!!
I continued with chemotherapy through March, started radiation in April, and continued 1 round of chemo every 3 weeks. I was feeling good, I was getting my hair back, I was getting my life back and feeling normal again. In July I took a trip to San Francisco to complete my first 2 day AVON walk for breast cancer with my friend Lori. We walked 26.2 miles one day, 13.1 miles the next day. What an experience!! Since then I have completed the Avon walk in New York in 2009 as well.
Upon arriving home from the San Francisco trip in 2008, I found out I was pregnant. I was NOT supposed to try to have any babies for 5 years. What will this do to me? What will this do to my baby? What was I going to do? I had to go off all of my medication and just concentrate on being healthy for my unborn baby.
In February 2009, I found a lump in my neck. I raced to the dr and found out the cancer had returned. I was devastated. I needed to have the baby as soon as possible so I could get back on my medication. The night of March 12th we headed to the hospital and on Friday the 13th of March at 11:53 am, Samantha Kari was born. She was a healthy baby girl weighing 6.1 oz. She was perfect!
A week after she was born I went back on my medication to try to make the cancer stop. It didn’t work. At this point, the cancer had come back 3 times, I couldn’t take it anymore. The medication I was taking wasn’t helping. I switched oncologists and saw one in Ames. I knew she was the right doctor for me. She was aggressive and got me in right away to do testing to try and figure out our next step. She recommended I have my ovaries removed. A frightening procedure. I wouldn’t be able to have more kids if I did that? What do I do??
On March 2nd, 2010 I had my ovaries removed. I knew I didn’t want more children b/c God had already blessed us with 2 beautiful baby girls and I didn’t want to get greedy and ask for more. It wasn’t worth the risk for my unborn child or for me. I wanted to be there for my girls and my husband, not worry about having the cancer come back.
Four years had passed and I had no sign of cancer until March of 2014. I found a lump in my neck again, in the same spot. I was given a CT scan and it didn’t even show up on the scan. My oncologist recommended I have it removed. Once it was removed, it was cancer, again for the 4th time.
Fast forward to today, January, 2020 and my cancer has come back several more times, about every 2 years, and recently spread to my liver, spine, and my skull. I am considered having stage 4 Metastatic Breast Cancer. I had radiation in August of 2019 on my skull, which again robbed me of my hair. I am currently taking a high dosage chemotherapy pill and just trying to stop the cancer from spreading. Each day is a new day and each day I just put one foot in front of the other, moving forward. My cancer will never go away but we can keep it contained with the medication, hopefully. Cancer is scary, it is hard, it is painful. Having cancer has taught me to be more patient, more kind, more positive about life. God gave us Life. It is a gift and what you do with that gift is up to you.
My life has been full of ups and downs, some days it feels like more downs than ups but I continue to believe that God doesn’t give us anything we can’t handle and He doesn’t give up on us. And when we do feel like we have enough to handle, He gives us our friends and family to help carry the load. He believed that I could handle cancer and maybe help others along the way. I have beat cancer before and I WILL do it again!!
Hi, my name is Rachel, I am a 33 year old wife to my wonderful husband, Brett, and mom to three adorable children. My oldest, Eva, 
is ten years old, my middle child, Conner, is five, and my baby, Allie, is almost a year and a half. On December 6th, 2018, I received a very unexpected diagnosis of Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis. I was just four months postpartum with my third child, when I awoke from a deep sleep feeling like I was having a stroke. My husband rushed me to the hospital, and after a full workup, the doctor ruled out stroke and during the conversation had mentioned possible demyelination. Demyelination is damage to the protective covering surrounding nerves. Being a nurse, I understood that demyelination likely meant a long term health problem.
Within a day of the onset of my rather severe symptoms, the diagnosis of multiple sclerosis with active enhancing lesions was confirmed through MRI and spinal tap. The neurologist who diagnosed me gave me hope that the disease activity would be mild, as my brain MRI revealed both a few large new lesions, and multiple inactive lesions. Since I was never aware of any weird neurological symptoms, other than an episode while I was twenty weeks pregnant that was worked up as cardiac issues instead of neurological, the belief was that MS had been active in my body for years but was presenting in a typical mild manner. It quickly became evident that a mild, more benign form of the disease was not my reality.
Following the diagnosis relapse ( a relapse is an active immune system attack to the protective coating of the nerves in my brain called myelin), I experienced three more severe relapses in exactly 365 days from diagnosis, with yet another relapse occurring the day I began chemotherapy to hopefully halt the disease. Each relapse significantly impacted not only my ability to work as a RN caring for patients in a hospital, but also affected my ability to live my day to day life and even care for my children in the manner I was accustomed to. Symptoms throughout the relapses have included severe double vision and nystagmus, balance and coordination issues, inability to walk independently, debilitating fatigue in which I sometimes fall asleep in the middle of playing with my children on the floor, severe impairment to equilibrium, bladder control issues, pudendal nerve entrapment from piriformis muscle spasticity resulting in excruciating pain, arm spasms and tremors, and sensory disturbances. More than once I have been unable to safely carry my youngest, and there have been times where I have had to rely on my oldest to change her and dress her while my husband is at work. My middle child has sometimes had to fend for himself for lunch, grabbing string cheese and fruit snacks and muffins from the kitchen, while my husband and daughter were at work/school for the day. Due to the severity of my symptoms, I have been unable to work since the relapse that occured the last week of August, as my body has yet to adequately recover.
Over the last 7 years, running has been my favorite hobby. Just a year before MS, I was able to run and complete the Seattle Marathon. During relapses however, I can barely walk and often require the use of a cane or a walker to make it from my bed to the bathroom. Since I am early on in my disease progression, I have been lucky to return to close to my pre-MS baseline after recovering from a relapse, but my EDSS remains at 3 on my best days. Throughout recovery and during the sweet moments when the disease isn’t active, I focus very intently on feeding my body the best nutrition I can and keeping my body moving to whatever extent is possible in the moment. Physical therapy and yoga have been beyond beneficial in helping me retain as much of my abilities as possible. Staying active helps me cope with the disease realities, both physically and emotionally.
The form of multiple sclerosis I have is ‘Highly Active Relapsing Remitting Multiple Sclerosis’. In Highly Active RRMS, the relapses 
are severe and come frequently. Also, the patients tend to be less optimally responsive to the medications used to stop relapse activity once it has started. When this became evident, I began seriously researching the options for treatment. I am a research obsessed RN by profession, and I was not willing to settle for anything less than the best. I learned of a treatment called Hematopoietic Stem Cell Transplant, in which chemotherapy is used to eradicate the immune system, and the patient’s own hematopoietic stem cells are utilized after chemotherapy to help the body jump start a new immune system. The treatment has an 85% efficacy rate at halting RRMS, but it is only available in limited clinical trials with very strict criteria in the United States. My insurance denied the chemotherapy, because I have not failed three ‘disease modifying drugs’ yet. I was not willing to wait to see if I fail three DMDs, because a failure means more damage to the myelin sheath that surrounds the nerves of the brain and central nervous system. Though I am still able to retain most of my pre-MS abilities, once the ‘lesion burden’ becomes too great, I will no longer be able to maintain a mostly normal life. Each failure means my brain gets more lesions, and as active and aggressive as my disease is, I will likely advance to the Secondary Progressive stage more rapidly than most who are diagnosed with RRMS. My children are still young, and I enjoy an active lifestyle, so I have been willing to fight for the best option available.
Knowing the reality of my disease activity, and the three relapses I have had in the four months since making the decision to pursue HSCT, my husband and I chose to travel internationally so that I could undergo HSCT as quickly as possible. I am currently in Mexico, at one of the best treatment facilities in the world, to get HSCT treatment. My husband and I traveled here for a 28 day treatment. A wonderful group of family and friends at home are caring for our three children, and he is caring for me as I undergo this intense treatment. Though the odds are well worth the realities of the side effects, it will still be a long road to recovery. Once I am able to return home at the end of the month, I will have to stay in my home for at least three months, longer if my immune system doesn’t recover in that time. I will be unable to work as a nurse for at least six months, maybe even a year to two years, because of the physical demands of my job, as well as the higher risk of infection associated with the healthcare field. The purpose of HSCT is to eradicate immune memory, so it means I will be susceptible to childhood illnesses and need to be revaccinated. I will also need to undergo regular physical therapy for quite some time, as the treatment process combined with the realities of MS often causes patients to become weak.
Despite the unexpected path my life took when receiving this diagnosis, my family and I remain extremely hopeful. Losing the ability to do all the things that I used to hold dear, such as work as an RN, run longer distances regularly, and care for my children without worry, has allowed me to focus on what is truly important in a way I never understood. Knowing you are leaving the country to undergo chemotherapy and intentionally becoming neutropenic (meaning my body will have no ability to fight infection) is a scary concept that really helped me realize how fiercely I love the mundane moments with my spouse and children. HSCT can’t repair the damage that was done, but it has an 85% chance of preventing further damage in RRMS. I hope to recover from this treatment and become an advocate for it.I would like to focus my efforts on raising awareness of this treatment in the US, so that others with life altering autoimmune disease may know that, in many cases, there are options for treatment other than a lifetime of immunosuppression. I am hopeful for the future and wish to share that hope.
If you would like to follow my medical treatment journey and recovery, please join the Facebook group ‘Adios MS – Rachel’s HSCT Journey to Puebla’ https://www.facebook.com/groups/2211252715672062/ Thank you so much for all the prayers and support. I am truly grateful for this organization.
Matthew Rodriquez
Everything began in December of 2107. Matthew was just like any other five years old, happy and so full of life. Like every morning, I sent him to school, but this time he came home from the bus crying hysterically complaining of a headache and the smell of the bus. He mentioned it made him nauseous and begged me not to let him go anymore. Like most moms, I reassured him it was going to be okay and tomorrow would be much better and sent him the next day. However, this time was different. Not only did he continue to go on and on about the headaches and the horrible smell of the bus he began to have fevers that lasted all throughout the night. Matthew mentioned his legs hurting, and I began to assume these things going on were growing pains. As the days went on I began to notice his loss of appetite, which was rare especially during the holidays. The following week was Christmas Eve, which we spent with family and friends. Seeing everyone so happy and cheerful I couldn’t help but notice my little boy feeling more down than usual, it was almost like I didn’t know who or what was taking over him. The fevers, nausea, and bone pain had me worried. I scheduled him a doctor’s visit and got in right away. They performed a normal check-up, where then they told me was normal and in range, it was most likely a virus going around. Something deep inside me told me it wasn’t just that, it couldn’t be!
I began to reach out to other doctors and they all told me the same thing, this began to make me more and more worried. Not only did I know the little boy standing in front of them, I knew something wasn’t right, but I could also feel it in my heart. I begged the doctor to try one more time, they assured me they were the specialist and I was just the mother and there was nothing more they could do for Matthew. I said, run a blood test. They hesitated but the only voice I could hear was Matthew’s cry and yearn to say mommy help me, please help me my head and bones hurt. They proceeded with the blood test and I was expected to receive a phone call first thing in the morning. Only this time, I didn’t even make it to my driveway to the news that I need to take Matthew to the emergency room immediately. There, they continued to run tests. Shortly after, they told me Matthew has acute lymphoblastic leukemia- a childhood cancer. It was in that very moment that my whole life fell to the ground.
From that day forward, Matthew was hospitalized for days, weeks, and even months a time undergoing various treatments and studies. I knew God was by my side. I quit my job to be able to meet Matthew’s needs to the best of my ability while his dad worked two jobs full time. We had other children at home. Matthew is the youngest of five, two in college, a senior in high school, and last but not least my little nine-year-old girl. It was our family’s faith and strength that got us through those days. There just isn’t any words that could possibly explain what day after day felt and looked like for us, much less what Matthew underwent. But what I can say, and will proudly do so for the rest of my life is that Matthew is now cancer free. He is still undergoing various treatments at home and has limited the doctor visit twice a month for the next two and a half years. Despite that, it’s those individuals for whom I am thankful for- the doctors, nurses, and specialist that left an impact not only on me but Matthews’ heart as well.
The little boy that stands in front of me today is a train loving, silly, outgoing, sweet soul with God’s grace shining right through him. I am blessed to have my healthy little boy back and I will always have a special place for the families that have gone through any hardship and I will continue to pray for healing. Matthew is now 6 years old and in first grade. Although he may not admit it, he will always share a special place for all his wonderful nurses and individuals who have left such a big impact on such a little heart. We may still have a long road of recovery ahead, but with God’s grace and my family by my side, what seems like the impossible suddenly becomes possible. Thank you for joining us on Matthew’s journey.
-Janet Colin (Matthew’s Mom)
Blank Children’s Hospital
The Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center, Iowa’s first children’s cancer center, opened at Blank Children’s Hospital in 1987 – concentrating all phases of pediatric cancer diagnosis and treatment in one unique area. Today, Blank Children’s Hospital is one of only two hospitals in Iowa treating children, adolescents, and young adults with cancer. Designed to accommodate the needs of both children and young adults, the Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center provides comprehensive and coordinated medical care by an interdisciplinary team of pediatric specialists.
Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorders Center has received NCQA Recognition as a Patient-Centered Specialty Practice (PCSP). Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorder Center was the first pediatric cancer center to receive this impressive recognition. Practices that become recognized under Patient-Centered Specialty Practice Recognition have demonstrated a commitment to patient-centered care and clinical quality through streamlined referral processes and care coordination with referring clinicians, timely patient, and caregiver-focused care management and continuous clinical quality improvement.
Holiday Streaker’s donation will benefit the Cancer and Blood Disorders Center.
About the Cancer and Blood Disorders Center
500-600 patients currently caring for.
50-60 new cancer diagnoses per year.
The most common cancer diagnosis is Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL).
More than 225 patients enrolled in clinical trials.
200 new hematology diagnoses per year.
Most common blood disorder is anemia and thrombocytopenia.
7,000 infusions performed each year.
200 procedures performed each year.
Specifically, the Holiday Streakers will support the Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorder Center Compassion Fund. The Blank Children’s Cancer and Blood Disorder Center Compassion Fund is designed to provide additional support to patients and families beyond what the Cancer and Blood Disorder Center is able to provide. Assistance is based on financial need and is designed to assist with the unique, medical needs of patients and families. This program is supported by 100% philanthropy and would not be possible without the generous contributions of individuals and groups such as the Holiday Streakers. The fund as supported items such as transportation costs and gas cards, meal tickets, travel expenses, prescription costs, equipment needs, and even paying for electricity, water, or rent to help the family.
Hundreds of families have been impacted by the Compassion Fund. Here are a few examples of how the fund has helped our patients and their families.
– Provided ongoing gas cards for a patient’s family who was traveling 3 days a week from two hours away for treatment.
– Helped purchase a shower chair, so the family could provide a safe shower for their child when they were weak from treatments.
– Provided three nights of lodging for the family of a patient as the child was getting additional treatment in Minneapolis.
Thank you Holiday Streakers for choosing to support Blank Children’s Hospital!
-Allisa McKinney
Camila Aria-Lopez
Our family never expected to hear the words “Cancer” when we got the results for Camila’s MRI of her knee. At the end of February 2017, Camila turned 15 and had started complaining about her knee hurting. She said it popped while stretching in PE class. At the time we were not too concerned but sought treatment nonetheless. We went to Urgent care initially and got x-rays. The x-rays were inconclusive and did not reveal anything concerning. The weeks passed and the pain persisted, so we decided to have Camila’s primary care pediatrician follow the issue. She told us Camila needed an MRI. It took a few days to get the MRI approved with insurance. By this time it was early in April of 2017. We went in for the MRI one evening. While Camila was getting the MRI, the tech came out and spoke to us about getting a few extra pictures for the doctor. At this time, I became a little suspicious. By the next morning, the orthopedic surgeon called me and told us we needed to go to Iowa City tomorrow.
When we got to Iowa City we were very scared. Then the news came from the doctor – “Osteosarcoma”. We were shocked; just a few weeks earlier, we were so blessed to find out we would be having our first boy in July, and now the C word. The course of treatment would be chemotherapy for 4 months at Blank in Des Moines to shrink the tumor in her knee. After the tumor shrank 90%, they
would go in and replace her knee in Iowa City in July of 2017. Then more chemo after the surgery. Everything went as planned; Victor was born in July, Camila’s knee replacement went great, and she was back receiving chemo before we knew it. She finished chemo around Christmas. Unfortunately, we did not have much time to celebrate. In April of 2018, we received news that cancer had shown back up in her lungs. This meant back to Iowa City to remove the metastasis in her lung. In July, another metastasis showed up between her lung and heart. They were not able to remove all of it, and it’s growing back at an alarming rate. It’s inoperable at this point, so we are trying a new chemotherapy drug to try and get a response.
We are blessed to have insurance, but deductibles still have to be met. The deductible went from $5000 in 2017 to $6000 in 2018 – plus countless trips to Iowa City with extended hotel stays.
Thank you for your consideration! God bless you all!
The Levi and Sila Chodur family
Children’s Mercy Kansas City
About Children’s Mercy Kansas City
Founded in 1897, Children’s Mercy is one of the nation’s top pediatric medical centers. With not-for-profit hospitals in Missouri and Kansas and numerous specialty clinics in both states, Children’s Mercy provides the highest level of care for children from birth through the age of 21. U.S. News & World Report has repeatedly ranked Children’s Mercy as one of “America’s Best Children’s Hospitals.” For the fourth time in a row, Children’s Mercy has achieved Magnet nursing designation, awarded to fewer than seven percent of all hospitals nationally, for excellence in quality care. Its faculty of more than 700 pediatric subspecialists and researchers across more than 40 subspecialties are actively involved in clinical care, pediatric research, and educating the next generation of pediatric subspecialists. Thanks to generous philanthropic and volunteer support, Children’s Mercy provides medical care to every child who passes through its doors, regardless of a family’s ability to pay. For more information about Children’s Mercy and its research, visit childrensmercy.org. For breaking news and videos, follow us on Twitter, YouTube, and Facebook.
I Love Children’s, Mercy Fund
It is because of unwavering philanthropic support that Children’s Mercy is the region’s leading pediatric healthcare provider. Giving to the I Love Children’s Mercy Fund provides the hospital with the flexibility to use donations as needed to respond quickly to patients, deliver the best care possible, and make research discoveries that will change children’s lives. Your support of the I Love Children’s Mercy Fund goes right to the heart of the institution…and from there to the areas where he needs is most immediate and sometimes urgent. Gifts to this fund make a difference in the quality of our day-to-day operations and also provide a margin of excellence that helps distinguish Children’s Mercy from other children’s hospitals. Things like:
· Providing the highest quality clinical and psychosocial care through programs like Child Life
· Keeping the cafeteria open longer or keeping chaplains at the hospital around the clock
· Buying life-saving, state-of-the-art equipment customized for children
· Recruiting and retaining top clinicians and researchers
· Enhancing research support for promising investigators
· Innovating the treatments and cures of tomorrow
Giving to the I Love Children’s Mercy Fund can make a real difference…transforming the lives of thousands of children facing urgent needs, devastating disease and chronic illnesses. Quite simply, your generosity if the heart of our work to heal sick and injured children.
-Erica Logan
Keri Meyer
I am thankful for the chance to share my story, and also for the amazing things I have heard about Holiday Streakers!
My diagnosis with breast cancer came in May 2018. My world with my two kids and I was literally turned upside down. I went on to have my bilateral mastectomy in June, and started high dose chemotherapy shortly after that. In November I will begin five weeks of radiation therapy, and follow that with another six months of IV treatments.
I’ve been a nurse for 24 years, and was a pediatric oncology nurse at St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital for the first half of my nursing career. I thought that I knew a lot about cancer and about how it affects families… but I found out quickly that nothing can prepare you for the physical and emotional challenges. Nothing prepares you for having those conversations with your kids and the rest of your family. All of a sudden I was the patient. I was the one undergoing major surgery. I was the one who needed help to get through my days.
The great part about my story is the countless ways that my kids and I have been blessed. The people in our lives who show up for us throughout this roller coaster ride is amazing to me. We pray for strength to get through the tough days, and are grateful for ALL the good days.
I found a quote recently that I love: “To trust God in the light is nothing, but trust him in the dark—that is faith.” -C.H. Spurgeon
We thank everyone from the bottom of our hearts for all the love & support.
-Keri Meyer
Joey’s Journey
Our family is one full of love, faith, and fun. Jim and I have been blessed with four wonderful children. In mid-October, 2016 we put everyone to bed in our typical fashion and in the early morning hours of Joey (5 ½ years old at the time) came into our bedroom to snuggle. Around 7 that morning, all of the sudden our bed started to shake. I thought Joey was being silly and I was preparing to tease him about making such a commotion. However, when Jim and I looked up, we quickly realized Joey was having a seizure. It was terrifying. As a professional in the world of special education, I have unfortunately seen children suffer seizures before – however, NOTHING prepares you to see your own child in this condition. We had put a seemingly perfectly healthy child to bed on Friday night and were waking up to a nightmare. We called 911 and were immediately transported to the hospital. The next few hours were a total blur, with Joey remaining in a post-seizure state for about 90 minutes, through blood draws
and other various tests. When he eventually “woke up,” hearing his sweet little voice was an absolutely precious gift. All of the immediate test results came back “normal”, and we were told children sometimes have seizures for no known cause. We left hopeful this was the case for Joey.
Our hope that Joey’s seizure was a one-time occurrence disappeared, as the next four weeks brought about frequent seizures, ambulance rides, ER trips, EEGs, and a four-day hospitalization at Blank Children’s Hospital. On 11/10/2016, our deepest fears were confirmed: an MRI revealed Joey had a brain tumor. There really isn’t anything to prepare you to see such images or hear these words from a doctor talking about your child. Every piece of our world was thrown into immediate chaos – and yet everything seemed slow and surreal – all at the same time. Thoughts streamed in our minds: This can’t really be happening – What kind of tumor is this? Will Joey survive? What will it take to make sure Joey survives this? How did this happen? Is this really happening? What will we tell our other kids? How will we all survive this?
We left the hospital on November 11 and headed home to try to figure out what we were supposed to do next. Joey’s neurologist had referred us to University of Iowa and Mayo. Appointments were made. Hotels were reserved. And, we slowly started sharing the news with our extended family and closest friends. We proceeded to have appointments in Iowa City and in Rochester. More tests, more bloodwork, more images, more of everything – including growing fear, became part of our everyday reality.
In addition to the amazing medical teams at University of Iowa and Mayo, we are blessed to have a pretty incredible school nurse in our support squad. Our school nurse, Keri, shared she had previously been a brain tumor nurse at St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital and made a request to reach out to her former colleagues to see if they would review Joey’s case and give us input. We readily agreed and felt blessed to have medical teams across the country reviewing Joey’s case.
The Wednesday before Thanksgiving we received a call from the brain tumor roundtable of doctors at St. Jude’s indicating they were accepting Joey’s case. What a mix of emotions this call brought. We were thrilled to know Joey would be taken care of by such a world-renowned team and hospital, and yet, this is a place nobody really wants to have to bring their children (other than to visit)! We scheduled flights and prepared to visit Memphis. Joey was subjected to many tests, further MRIs and diagnostic imaging, and we were transferred to LaBonheur hospital for surgery. Joey underwent a biopsy to help the medical team determine the type of tumor that had invaded our little guy’s brain. Due to the tumor’s location being so close to the midline of Joey’s brain and near so many converging blood vessels, the surgery needed to be an invasive procedure with the inherent risk involved. Nothing prepares you to kiss your baby, whisper “I love you”, and watch a piece of your heart be wheeled off for brain surgery. The biopsy surgery, thankfully, went very smoothly. Joey, an avid Star Wars fan, woke up in the ICU saying, “The force has awakened!” Joy leaped into our hearts at this!
After surgery and Joey’s recovery, we flew back to Iowa to celebrate Christmas with family while we waited for the biopsy results. Finally, the call came. The type of tumor
Joey has is incredibly rare (less than 100 cases are currently reported), but thankfully it is slow-growing. Surgery was scheduled for right after Christmas and we tried to have a faith-filled and memory making holiday season together. I found myself taking pictures and videos of EVERYTHING. All four children are by the Christmas tree – click. Joey is looking at an ornament – click. The kids have on cute pajamas – click. Photo after photo – because we honestly didn’t know if we would have another Christmas with all four kids again. Would Joey survive this surgery? Would surgery be successful in removing the tumor? Would Joey wake up and know who we were? Would he be able to walk? Even if his body survives – will complications from surgery take the Joey we know from us? Unimaginable questions kept spinning through our heads.
Right after Christmas Jim, Joey, and I once again boarded planes headed to Memphis. Another series of tests and surgery preparations ensued. We once again were in the hospital praying, begging, and hoping with all of our beings that surgery would be successful. On 12/29/2016, Joey underwent a six-hour surgery to remove his tumor. Surgery was successful in removing the majority of his tumor. Joey recovered from surgery over the next few days in the ICU – and we know the talent of his medical team, partnered with the prayers of many, helped Joey during surgery and into his recovery.
While we don’t know what the future holds, Joey brings joy to our world each and every day. We pray for strength to handle whatever comes our way, and to try to not let the worries and fears of the possibilities overtake our lives. Concerns about tumor growth and future medical needs are daily fears that are impossible to ignore. Fear of uncontrolled seizures is ongoing. Due to the remaining tumor location – the fear of Joey losing his ability to walk and run, and just be a “regular” kid – is never far away in our minds. Joey’s tumor is on his motor strip, which means it impacts his right leg strength and functioning. Each time he trips or falls, as little boys tend to do, we wonder…..are those tumor cells causing problems, or is that just Joey being a six year old?
Joey takes daily medications and Jim, Joey, and I travel back to St. Jude’s every three months for a series of tests, MRI diagnostic imaging, and blood work. While were are blessed to have a medical “dream team” for Joey, each trip adds to the emotional, physical, and financial burden of this unwelcome journey. Each time we prepare for the trips, our emotions spike to high alert. For the weeks leading up to medical trips, we prepare luggage, we pack medications, we plan distractions to help Joey get through the medical procedures, and we brace ourselves. Preparing Joey for the trips is difficult, as he is fully aware of the procedures that are coming. He hates the needles, fights, and cries during IVs, and doesn’t like “going to sleep” (being sedated) for his MRIs. We prepare our other three children to have mom, dad, and Joey be away from home for a week. I leave work, Joey leaves school, and we take a deep breath. And, we pray, and we hope.
Being the parent of a child with a brain tumor opens the door to a club of families – a club that you wish you never belonged to. (Don’t get me wrong, the people in this club
are amazing and incredibly supportive, but you still wish you weren’t a member of this particular club.) The other night, I read a message from another “brain tumor mom” in this club, which sums up our trips back to St. Jude’s pretty well:
“A mom I know posted today that her phone has rung 11 times since her child finished his MRI this morning. Each time, her heart stops, then starts when she sees it is not the call with results. Brain tumor families live through this every three months – praying they get a report of “stable”.
We pray and HOPE for the best for Joey’s future and nothing but reports of stable. We feel truly feel humbled and blessed, to have the support and prayers of so many people during this journey.
The Toburen Family
First, I checked out your website to know what the charity is and then to read the history. I think it’s wonderful what you’re doing and also very creative! Thank you for hearing our story!
We started our adoption journey three years ago and requested a healthy child only. We didn’t think we could handle any kind of medical needs. A month into the adoption process we found out we were pregnant! We were overjoyed, yet disappointed we had to put the adoption on hold until our baby turned 6 months old (adoption agency policy).
My pregnancy was very difficult, scary and short-lived. I was on bed rest for three months and had our son two months early. I got congestive heart failure from the delivery and had to have back surgery from being on bed rest so long.
Our son, Sawyer, was born with a birth defect called Sagittal Craniosynostosis that required him to have skull surgery at three months of age and wear a helmet for six months. It was then that we felt like God was asking more from us. We changed our adoption request for a healthy child to special needs.
Had we not done that we would never have gotten our sweet Charlotte. She is 22 months old and has a bilateral cleft lip and a complete cleft palate. We brought her home from China six months ago and she had her first surgery on June 21st. Her next surgery is next week, September 27th. Her third will be in January and her fourth a couple years later.
The adoption took everything we had, $44,000. We have insurance, which will cover a lot of the surgeries, but the $4,000 deductible this year and next will be hard. Currently, my husband works two jobs – part-time children’s pastor and full-time commercial loan administrator – but next year he’ll go into full-time ministry! This is our family’s dream and desire but it will cut our income in half.
This journey has grown us in so many ways and shown us that, although we think we know best, God knows better. We also know we’re stronger than we think and can handle obstacles as long as we go through them together.
Thank you for considering us! It’s wonderful what you’re doing to help others.
-Daniel and Stacia Toburen
Fausto & Wilda
On July 9th, 2017 our lives changed drastically. My husband has been fighting for his health over the last several years now but had been feeling better and working consistently for quite a while. On July 9th it became clear that he needed to go to the hospital. He was in immense pain and could barely even speak. I drove him to the hospital terrified at what might happen next. There is no way I could have been prepared for the journey ahead in that moment, but by the grace of God we keep fighting day by day I stayed by my husband, Fausto’s, side all night praying, crying out to God, not knowing why my husband didn’t wake up. He couldn’t open his eyes or speak. The doctors told me the next morning that alongside his diabetes he had been diagnosed with pancreatitis. As I understood, his pancreas was inflamed and no longer doing its job to process the sugar in his body. His diabetes complicated the matter. He was also diagnosed with hypertriglyceridemia and the doctors told me they would need to clean his blood through a very involved process over a period of 3 days.
I was hopeful that after a week I would have Fausto back at home with me and that with some recovery time he would be able to go back to work. Unfortunately, due to many complications, Fausto remained in the hospital for 6 weeks! I don’t even have words to describe how I felt during that time. Every day was such a desperate fight for life. Every day I would pray and hope that Fausto would make it one day more. I would hold his hand and talk to him not knowing if he could hear me.
The tension this situation placed on our family was difficult in so many ways…financial, emotional, spiritual. I previously had been working but with our three girls at home and school starting soon I had to find several jobs to try to make ends meet. Between working early in the morning and late at night I found time to go to the hospital and visit Fausto. Sadly, there were days I didn’t have enough gas money to make it there, so I was unable to visit him. My girls wanted their daddy home and my 2-year-old didn’t understand why she couldn’t visit her daddy (as he was in the SICU).
After Fausto was finally able to come home to us after 6 weeks, he had lost almost half of his body weight. He didn’t even look like the same person. There were some complications with his transition home in that he couldn’t keep any food down. Anything he ate, he would throw right back up. Within two weeks of being home, he had a follow-up appointment where we discovered he had lost 9 more pounds in two weeks. They rushed him to the hospital in an ambulance from that appointment and I was again left with my questions, fear, and desperate cries out to God.
He was hospitalized for yet another week until he was able enough to come home. Now we are continuing to fight day by day alongside each other. He is getting better. He can walk around and he keeps his food down now. But we know the journey ahead of us is long and some days it is difficult to continue to hope. But I know God has not abandoned us. I have faith that God will heal Fausto. There are so many people that have stepped up to help us in our time of need and I am so thankful. I see the hand of God in the many people who have been there for us. The people who have helped me with rides for my children to school, those who have helped us with food, I have seen the body of Christ at work. Thank you for your generosity and for the support and prayers you are offering on our behalf. We could not do it without you.
Traci Shultice
My mind raced and thoughts crashed into each other as I heard my cancer diagnosis. I thought to myself, how could this be? You see, in November of 2016, I went to my family doctor with a large lump in my armpit. She assured me I was fine. The lump continued to grow and my mind began to wonder even more. What is going on, I thought? Two weeks and an antibiotic later, I went back to my doctor. This time, she set me up at a Des Moines hospital for a 3D mammogram and an ultrasound to examine the lump in my armpit.
Nervously, I went to the hospital and had my mammogram and ultrasound. This time, the radiologist read my results. Everything looked “fine” and they sent me home. I was instructed to come back in six weeks if the lump was still there or getting bigger. The lump continued to grow and I returned to my doctor. In January of 2017, I was set up with an appointment to see a surgeon and have a biopsy. I took off work and went to the appointment. When I got there, the surgeon did an ultrasound on the lump. He said he was confident he knew what it was and would be shocked if it was cancer. He told me he could drain the lump now-which would continue to grow back or I could have surgery during spring break or in the summer since I am a teacher. I didn’t want to mess with this lump anymore, so I requested the earliest surgery appointment.
On that cold January day, I lay on the gurney with a cozy, warm blanket covering me. I was smiling and laughing with my family as I went into surgery. “I got this”, I said to myself. While in recovery, waiting for my husband and four children, I still thought I was fine and had no idea what was to come. My family’s tearful faces soon joined me and that is when I heard the dreaded C word. You have cancer. Triple negative breast cancer. This cancer is known to be an aggressive breast cancer. I was told I had a cancerous lump in my breast, one in my armpit lymph node and one lymph node between my lungs and fourth rib.
The next weeks were a whirlwind of appointments: biopsies, breast MRI, PET scan and surgery to put in a port for chemotherapy. At the end of January, I said goodbye to my 25 kindergarteners and they had no idea I was done teaching that year. Going to work with little children who don’t know how to use Kleenexes or cover a cough was no option with chemo!
I began 20 weeks of intense chemotherapy, which I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. My ball cap with hair became my best friend. I soon found out the Kiss Shy brand of fake eyelashes were the ones that flattered me the most and I became an expert on painting on fake eyebrows. My chemo nurses said I should be the poster person for chemo. Really? I had 41 symptoms and came out of chemo needing two heart medicines. I guess my symptoms were not as severe as most. Cancer surgery was in the middle of July and lucky me, I had a former kindergarten parent who was a nurse, in the operating room. She too got to see my ta-tas (even though they were double A’s). There went my modesty!
I went back to my Kindergarten teaching job at Westwood Elementary this school year. I can feel the love from my coworkers, friends, and family. My breast cancer journey continues as I finish this final phase of 33 days of radiation. I now have a nice sunburn and glow on my chest. I am staying upbeat and positive and every day I continue to say to myself, I GOT this!
Thank you, Holiday Streakers, for reaching out to my family and being a part of this journey with me.
-Traci
Our family was blessed to be one of the 2017 recipient families of Holiday Streakers. Our son Joey, was diagnosed with a brain tumor when he was in Kindergarten and only 5 years old. Joey’s diagnosis put tremendous stress on Joey and our whole family – emotionally, physically, spiritually, and financially. Being supported by the daily prayers, positive thoughts – from friends, family, and strangers who quickly became part of Joey’s Journey through Holiday Streakers – was a true blessing. Knowing hundreds of people were sending positive thoughts, energy, and prayer with each footfall of exercise they committed to from Thanksgiving to New Year’s Day was so powerful! During this period of time, we had air and travel and expenses for multiple medical trips for Joey. We also were mentally and physically preparing for additional treatments for Joey in December 2017. We are firm believers in the power of prayer, and having the support of Streaker Nation was felt by our whole family, particularly in December. A few days before Christmas, we received the amazing news Joey did not need to have another brain surgery at that time. Sharing that news with our family, friends, and all of Streaker Nation was simply incredible! In addition to the emotional support from Streaker Nation, we were blessed to receive a financial gift. This gift helped us pay off the remaining medical debt we accrued during Joey’s initial diagnosis (amazing!) and has paid for three medical trips for Joey, my husband Jim, and me. We have also elected to donate some of the financial gifts we received from Holiday Streakers to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital to support children’s cancer research.
Streaker Nation is committed to supporting personal and physical wellness, all while supporting families enduring medical difficulty. While I never imagined our family would be on the receiving end of such a group, I can attest to the power of the experience and encourage everyone to join the mission of Holiday Streakers!
-Martha Condon (Joey)