It's Not About the Why, It's About The Win

It’s Time to Give Back

Click here to donate on behalf of the Arvada West St. Baldrick’s Event — in honor of Andrew and so many more warriors, in memory of Zachary and so many more angels.

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted, but no news has been relatively good news. Andrew is in his 23^rd month of treatment for the evil that is childhood leukemia, with about 17 more to go. (Not that I’m keeping track or anything.) Other than a scary bout with the flu earlier this month, he’s doing pretty well, all things considered. By looking at him, you’d never sense the war that’s still being waged inside his body. While life is so much easier than it was in the first year of treatment, it’s still a rough road. At only 12, here are just a few things Andrew will deal with until July 2012 just to survive:

• An oral chemo every day that controls what time he can eat and go to bed. It’s called 6-MP, but we call it P-I-T-A.
• An oral chemo every week that often makes him feel nauseous and worn out.
• An IV chemo every month that causes neuropathy, a pins and needles pain that can get so bad it takes a strong narcotic pain killer just to take the edge off.
• Steroid pulses every month that make him crazy hungry, crazy moody, and just plain crazy.
• Frequent spinal taps and chemo injected into his spinal fluid.
• A chronically suppressed immune system that makes things like the flu as dangerous to him as a loaded gun.
• Blurry vision as a rare side effect of his special combo of meds that gives him headaches so severe he can barely open his eyes.
• Poke, after poke, after poke. (If you’re afraid to give blood because of the needle, think about how many times cancer kids get poked and you’ll realize if they can do it, so can you.)

Feel sorry for Andrew? Well, don’t. Sure, no one wants to see any child deal with this sort of treatment, let alone the brutal front-line treatment that saved his life and brought him to this “easy” maintenance phase. But here’s the harsh reality that I really want everyone following Andrew’s journey to understand – Andrew is one of the lucky ones.

One in five children diagnosed with cancer will not survive. One in five! In the U.S., 46 kids are diagnosed with cancer every day. Statistically, about nine of them will never see the world as an adult. Many of those who do survive pay a big price. Serious late effects from treatment include heart damage, secondary cancers, lung damage, infertility, cognitive impairment, growth deficits, hearing loss, and more. Studies have shown that two-thirds of kids who survive cancer will live with at least one chronic health condition as a result of their treatment. One-fourth will face a life-threatening late effect.

My heart breaks every day for these kids. Not just for Andrew, but for the many kids whose journeys have intersected ours, and for the thousands more we know are out there. But, unfortunately for all these kids, broken hearts won’t help us find better treatments or a cure. Research money will. That’s why we’re getting involved this year with St. Baldrick’s, a national volunteer organization committed to funding research to find cures for childhood cancers and give survivors long and healthy lives.

Kids like Andrew – and especially the kids not as lucky as Andrew – need St. Baldrick’s. The National Cancer Institute’s federal budget is around $4.5 billion, and less than 3% of that goes toward our nation’s cancer kids. Of course, cancers that kill our kids are less common, and I suppose that accounts for the discrepancy. But look at it a different way… the average age of a person diagnosed with breast cancer is 61, so the calculated PYLL (potential years of life lost) is 16.  The average age of a child diagnosed with cancer is 10. That equates to 67 years of life lost for every child who dies of cancer. Even outside the big evil world of cancer, cancer kids seem to draw the short stick. In the U.S., pediatric cancer is 20 times more prevalent than pediatric AIDS, yet pediatric AIDS receives four times the funding.

Okay, enough talking about all this. Let’s do something about it. I’m so proud this year to be involved with St. Baldrick’s, even though it’s in a very small way. (No, I’m not shaving my head.) I’m even more proud to be part of a very special St. Baldrick’s event that is recognizing Andrew as one of its “honored kids” this year. This local event is put on by my niece Jaimie’s friend, Lyle, and his mom, Lois. Lyle, a high school senior with Jaimie this year, lost his younger brother Zachary to brain cancer in 2007, and this event is one way for his family to celebrate Zachary’s memory.

I often say that Andrew’s 3+ year treatment plan is our journey, with a cured young man waiting at our final destination. Our path is paved by the doctors, researchers, and other heroes who have saved so many kids from what used to be an almost certain death sentence. We’re able to stay the course with our heads held high (most of the time) because of our faith and the strong support we have from our families and friends. All these people are so important to us, and we’re grateful for each of them every single day. But even more important is the light that guides our way – sometimes I can truly see it. It’s the light from all the angels, like Zachary, who have gone before us. Our light comes from all the “one in fives” who are not statistics at all, but who are sons, daughters, brothers, and sisters taken from this world far too soon. The sacrifice these bright lights have made – and the pain their moms, dads, siblings, families, and friends endure – is not lost on me. I hold it heavily in my heart every day, knowing how brutal the world of childhood cancer can be for everyone it touches.

I can’t do much, but I can give my time and a little bit of my money to St. Baldrick’s. I hope you can too. Please follow this link to Andrew’s page on the St. Baldrick’s site. If you’re feeling brave, spend some time reading about some of the other honored St. Baldrick’s kids – each one of them is worth your time. If nothing else, please click the blue “Donate Now” button at the top of the page and give what you can.

It doesn’t matter how you donate, but if you’d like to honor Zachary’s memory and the efforts of his family, please donate on behalf of the Arvada West event in Arvada, CO. In exchange for your donation, not only will you enjoy the warm fuzzy feeling of doing a good thing, but you’ll also get my promise to be less of a Debby-downer in my blog posts from now on. Well, at least until it’s time for next year’s St. Baldrick’s event.