Not so long ago, I was blessed with the opportunity to go to an Obliteride event for Nuun. Obliteride is an event that urges cyclists to raise money (and awareness) for cancer research for the Fred Hutch foundation in the Seattle area. If you are a rider and want to do something for the greater good, check them out - seriously! They are a fantastic group of folks and I think what they are doing is fantastic. I felt a little out of place at the event; I didn't ride, fundraise, wasn't a major monetary contributor, didn't have cancer and wasn't a Fred Hutch employee. But then this little girl walked in, bald and beautiful, and I was immediately grounded. This swollen little girl with no hair who had already seen more hardship than most of us will in our lives was a gorgeous little girl with a sweet giggle and smile; her name is Allistaire. She seemed so comfortable around strangers at such a young age, but also seemed wary of what everyone was up to. I can't blame her; she has spent a majority of her life in hospitals visiting with countless doctors, specialist and nurses who all have something to say or do about the cancer that was ruthlessly attacking her body. I had been watching her jump around and kept smiling at her, and finally her and her grandpa came over to my table to say hello. She seemed timid, but not afraid, and politely introduced herself. She then told me she wanted to introduce me to her mom, and with a quick nod of approval from her grandpa we started up the stairs to find her mom. She was adorable, taking each step with care and talked about how old she was and her favorite color and animal. She even asked me a few questions! We got to the top of the stairs and she ran over to her mom, tugged on her dress, and said to me 'this is my mom!' I said hello to mom and explained that I had met Allistaire downstairs and was brought up for an introduction. Her mom was sweet, and after a little bit of chatting the event started and we all returned to our seats for the videos and presentations.
Now, I won't bore you with the details. There were some amazing doctors in the room and some amazingly uplifting stories that were told. And then, Allistaire's mom got up and began to talk. At 21 months, her daughter was very sick and after visiting the doctor was given some terrible news; her daughter had a very rare and very aggressive form of blood cancer, Acute Myeloid Lukemia. Now three years old, Allistaire has gone through three treatments and two Stem Cell transplants thanks to Fred Hutch. The team is working hard to kill the cancer in her little body, but the war hasn't been won yet.
And here was a little girl, listening to a movie on an iPad with her pink headphones as her mom talked in front of a crowd about fighting for her three year old and having her life change completely because of these damn aggressive cancer cells. Her love for her daughter was radiating, but you could feel the heartbreak, you could see her sadness when she talked about how hard it was. Having to look at a little 3 year old who's gone through so much already and been stripped of that innocence small children all should have and that we all envy was so hard. I wanted to give and take away. I wanted to give her things all children should have - happiness, health, smiles and bike rides and sunshine and swimming and squealing and popsicles and big eyes and hair bows and jumping from steps. I wanted to take away this idea that life was attacking her, take away the hospital beds and the scary people and the tubes and IVs and the death serum and the sickness and the tears and the why's and the sick food and the cancer.
I left with a feeling of sadness as well as gratefulness. I have been blessed with relatively good health and while some family members and some of those close to me have struggled with cancer and other terrible diseases, never did it strike so young. I can not even begin to imagine the thought of knowing your child's life is being threatened; hearing a doctor say those words and watch your child struggle with getting through each day. Cancer is a fight for everyone, but its an especially huge fight for a person so small. I was amazed at her family's grace and ability to speak about their current situation; it takes amazing strength to be able to keep your composure and maintain yourself while fighting for the life of your child. And I know NO ONE would ever want this, for anyone, but I left just hoping that when the time comes that I have children, I just want them to be healthy. I want healthy children because I can't imagine the heartache that comes along with seeing your very own child in so much pain, fighting such a fight at a young age. Its hard enough to see friends and family who are adults go through such tremendous struggles, but I can't imagine the pain associated with the uncertainty of your child's life.
I am so beyond grateful for my health, and while I hope that I never have to watch my child struggle through something so difficult and life altering, I know that I will fight like hell for anything that has to do with my children. I am also grateful for the kind strangers who donated amazing amounts of money to Obliteride and all other like events for the sake of killing cancer. The unity that comes from fighting such a terrible disease is amazing; no matter what event you attend or where you attend it, its clear that everyone is able to relate to one another, bonded by a desire to kill cancer. I am also grateful for all the science that has improved treatment to allow this little girl to reach her third birthday (and hopefully many more). Grateful for the doctors who spend countless hours pouring over each case in an attempt to better lives.
Way sad story, right? And you hope you never go through that. We all pray for that same thing. But maybe take the time to explain to your children what other kids are fighting for. Maybe look into donating some things to a Ronald McDonald house. Maybe donate a month of yoga to a parent, or a gym membership, to allow them time to themselves so they can be more present with their child. Or a spa day, a massage, a hair appointment. Donate to people's teams or causes if you can, or at least share their word. If you have the time, hospitals love volunteers (strict schedules, though). Be grateful for what you have, no matter what it is; we all have mixed bags and we just have to take it in stride with people who love us by our side!
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