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

12 Wishes for 2012

I’m not sure how long a person has to wish the world a Happy New Year and still be within the appropriate well-wishing window. I’m running a little behind, I know, but since we’re still in the first half of January I’m going to say that’s good enough.

Wow. 2012 is here. For many, it’s just another year. But for us, it’s the carrot on the stick that’s kept our asses moving forward since March of 2009. June 13^th will be Andrew’s last IV chemo and lumbar puncture with chemo into his spine. Then, on July 8^th, he will take his very last oral chemo pill, hopefully in front of a lot of friends and family.

For me, July 8^th is about more than just Andrew. In fact, I’ve found this entire experience to be about way more than just Andrew. When cancer happens, it happens to an entire family, their community, their world. It changes everything. Priorities shift. People change. New normals push, pull, and drag you to places you never thought you’d go. And that’s not always a bad thing. Really, it isn’t.

So, as we march toward those important dates in front of us for the year 2012, I have 12 wishes – 12 things I want more than anything in the world:

1. I wish for healing. In this new year, I wish for healing for the families of our friends who have been lost to this evil and unjust disease. If a genie were at my doorstep, I would wish that all their pain would go away with a big POOF! Short of that, I can only hope that as the new year progresses their pain lessens and they’re more and more comforted by knowing the impact their son, husband, brother, etc. had on this world. I make this wish for my friend Elizabeth most of all.
2. I wish for forever cures. In the early months of 2012, two boys we know will have bone marrow transplants to cure their leukemia. There are others, too, but these two are closest to my heart and are in my thoughts throughout every day. Please wish/pray/hope for successful transplants for our friends Daniel and Jakob. 2012 will be the year they are cured.
3. I wish for strength. As we approach the light at the end of Andrew’s treatment tunnel, I hope that he will continue to show us how strong one boy can be. I hope for the strength and courage we’ll all need to walk the road of survivorship with him without being paralyzed by fear every step of the way.
4. I wish for awareness.  Childhood Cancer Awareness Month isn’t until September, but my wish is for everyone to spread the word about kids’ cancer all year long. If nothing else, remember these numbers: 46/7. Forty-six kids are diagnosed with cancer each day, and seven die. Awareness = Funding = Cure. Spread it.
5. I wish for hope. And by that I mean I hope 2012 is the year we see a revolutionary change in the development of new drugs for pediatric cancer through the passing of the Creating Hope Act. In the last two decades, only two new drugs have been approved to treat pediatric cancer, and one of them was just approved last year. In that same timeframe, more than 50 new drugs have been approved for adult cancers. Why? Because the drug companies go where the money is, and not enough kids are suffering and dying to get their attention. Our kids deserve better. The Creating Hope Act will get them closer. Click here to help.
6. I wish for continued inspiration. In 2011, I was inspired by so many stories of kids fighting for their lives and reaching out to bring hope and strength to the people around them. I hope we hear more stories like that of our friend Joey who inspired so many people — from peons like me to iconic figures like Tim Tebow. In 2012 and beyond, I hope for continued healing for Joey and continued inspiration for us all.
7. I wish for a Momcologist reunion (if not in 2012, then soon thereafter). I am extremely fortunate to have powerful friendships with some simply amazing women who have helped me in immeasurable ways over the last few years. Most I’ve never met in person, and while we don’t need face time to maintain the support we’ve found in each other, it sure would be cool.
8. I wish everyone could be as lucky as we are. Us, lucky? Yep, it’s true – on so many levels. I am so grateful for our friends and families who have tirelessly supported us on this journey. I truly could not ask for better people in my life.
9. I wish for sunny skies on July 8^th. On the day Andrew takes his very last chemo pill, we’re going to kick the crap out of kids cancer. We hope we’ll be surrounded by tons of people for Andrew’s No-Mo-Kemo party and Kick-It kickball event, supporting CureSearch, to raise money for kid’s cancer research. More details coming soon – be sure to check out his Kick-It page.
10. I wish for smooth sailing for Andrew. I’m not as naïve as I sound. I know July 8^th is still pretty far away – here in cancerville, it’s potentially a universe away. I know a lot can happen between now and then and I’m frightfully aware of what could happen to change that date entirely. I also know our world won’t magically transform into roses and rainbows on July 9^th. In the meantime, though, I hope things are calm for Andrew, with more sleep and less pain, more normal and less sacrifice. And, of course, in just a week on the 17^th, we’ll be wishing Andrew a very happy 13^th birthday.
11. I wish for Michael to feel less weight on his shoulders. It’s not easy being the sibling of a kid with cancer. They are undoubtedly the unsung heroes in these battles, shouldering heavy burdens while their families are shaken to the core. Michael’s been dealt a double blow – cancer has taken a lot from him, and his injury has taken even more. Yet he’s still the big brother who says with a genuine smile, “Don’t worry about me. Worry about Andrew.” I hope Michael knows he’s the strongest one of us all, and that I’m proud of him every single day.
12. Finally, I wish the Mayans had been smarter. 2012 as the end of the world? I don’t think so, my misguided Mayan friends, you’ve got it all wrong. 2012, you see, is just the beginning.

Happy 2012, everyone.