Thank you Jesse!
This post sort of ties in a couple of things that have come up throughout the course of Isa’s treatment. First thing, fungus. One of the reasons Papa & I wanted to move was the mold in our hometown. Everything is moldy in the town we were living. Second thing is the coming to terms with negative outcomes. Third thing is Flashes of Hope.
A community of people coming together to help the families of the cancer children by providing photos. During the time that we were there, I saw a Flashes of Hope picture that had been turned into a carrying bag. It was small and I couldn’t see it so well. Today I had a chance, up close.
As we waited for Isa’s regular appointment I saw two women sit down, place their handbags beside them. As one woman walked into the back, the other sat there. As most parents or grandparents do in the waiting room she had a faraway look. Me, being nosy and curious wanted to see the bag because I thought it was the one mentioned previously. Indeed it was. The woman with the faraway look was Jesse’s grandma. The wet tears flowed as she said, ” Yes, this is my grandson who lost his fight on December 26, 2008.”
At that point, I couldn’t say anything to her because I was too afraid to sob in front of a packed waiting room. I simply reached out to pat Isa’s leg as the pictures on the bags stared at me.
A woman, with a recently shaved head, most likely for a St. Baldrick’s event, came out from the back. She was the woman in the photo. She was Jesse’s mom. I composed myself long enough to tell her that I was so sorry for her loss and that I’d like to read her site.
I’d also like all of you to take a minute or two to look over it. Cancer isn’t the only thing that kills these kids. It is the treatment. From chemotherapy to antibiotics to blood and on and on, anything can happen. Jesse died from a fungal infection in his lung. A simple mold that grew uncontrolled until it had damaged his lung so much that it could not be treated. His system was blown out from a recent high dose of chemo.
Jesse was diagnosed in October of 2005. Theoretically he was almost done.
Also, if you’ve been following Jaymun’s story, I got an email from his dad today stating that he had blasts in his CSF. Jaymun was diagnosed at birth, that was several years ago. He has an updated post detailing the experience.
People, this isn’t over until it is over. I respect that some people prefer not to think about these types of things. Even with the impressive rates of survival and cure. Children are dying from these diseases everyday. To think that it won’t happen to me is to be naive. To only focus on the death would be morose. To use my brains, my resources and my love for Isa to provide her with as many opportunities to survive, that is smart, albeit knowing full well what could happen.