Hope Is Never Lost

At first the conversation with Mikey’s pediatrician was light. He asked how Michael was and I told him, also mentioning how shocked I was to hear from him on New Year’s Day and thanking him for being on top of it all. Then the news hit. He told me that his bloodwork was abnormal, and that, while he couldn’t be sure, his belief is that Mikey has leukemia. I remember running to my laptop to google the word. I was barely able to catch my breath as I knew this word meant something bad. Staring at my laptop as my Google search confirmed my worst fears, I guess I forgot that the doctor was still on the phone. He asked if I was okay and apologized to be giving me this news over the phone, but he said he wanted us to go immediately to the children’s ER at Sunrise Hospital for further testing. I know at this point I stopped listening to anything else and thanked him, eventually choking back tears as we hung up. I turned off the stove and called my husband. Unable to stop crying, I told him to come straight home and that the doctor thinks its leukemia—we must go to the hospital ASAP.

I couldn’t believe the words I was hearing myself speak, it had to be a mistake. My son couldn’t have cancer. I made the decision not to call anyone else. I didn’t want to worry my parents especially as I wanted to believe that it wasn’t true, that we’d get to the hospital and they’d tell us something different. My husband called one of his brothers to come and stay with James, our older son, and then the three of us sped off to the ER. On the way my husband called his father and other brother to let them know what was going on, and that we didn’t know really what to expect. Without even being asked, his dad, brother, and his girlfriend at the time, all showed up at the hospital to be with us. We were all quickly put back in a room, Mikey’s Doctor had sent over the bloodwork and within a half hour they were taking another sample of his blood to run their own tests.

As a mother, I stayed strong for my son and my husband. I didn’t show much emotion and I felt myself becoming numb and extremely angry at the idea of this being true. At this point I asked my husband to let my mom know that we were at the hospital waiting on results. It seemed like forever, but the ER doctor finally came in and informed us that our son did, in fact, have Leukemia.

Most everything after that I can’t quite remember. I do recall asking my husband to call my mom to tell her, and then the ER doctor telling us to wait here for the oncologist to come in and answer all of our questions regarding this diagnosis. I lost it the second the doctor left the room, everyone cried, and I held my son tightly in my arms wishing this wasn’t his life.

CHAPTER 5: THE FIRST 24 HOURS

Quickly after receiving the news, our oncologist, a doctor by the name of Dr. Joe Lasky, walked into our room. My heart was pounding, and I was imagining how many times this doctor must have had to deliver information to families just like ours. He sat down and slowly began to explain the next steps. As I went in and out of this bad dream, I quickly realized that my son and I would be staying in the hospital for quite some time and that my life was about to change drastically, all our lives in fact. I began to worry about my other son, wondering how I would be able to explain this to him. All of these thoughts were interrupted by the oncologist explaining the plan to find out exactly what type of leukemia our son had. First, we would be admitted to the hospital and a bone marrow biopsy would be scheduled. Next was a lumbar puncture procedure to check if the cancer had spread to the spinal fluid. Then, within the next 24 hours, Mikey would begin receiving daily chemo, steroids, and antibiotics. I could feel myself starting to close in on my own thoughts again when the doctor finally said something hopeful. He told us that, based on the blood results, he strongly believes Mikey has the most common type of leukemia which has a 90% cure rate. Thank God there was something I could hold onto. He told us to keep saving for college because he would graduate and live a long life. The rest of the conversation is a blur, and my husband has filled me in on many things that I just blocked out.

That day at around 3 pm we were admitted to the hospital on the children’s section of the ER. It was loud, children were crying or screaming, the beeping and the noises from the hospital machines constantly going off, the nurses ran from room to room, I could tell that for how many children were on this floor, there were definitely not enough nurses. Our nurse was Brandy, she was like an angel, her empathy came through in her eyes and the way she spoke to me. At first, they tried to bring a hospital crib for Michael to sleep in which was way too small for him. After some pleading and signing of a waiver, we were able to get a regular hospital bed for him. I began setting up our room and making a list of items I would need from home. Outside our window was the flight for life helicopter pad, the view we would have for quite a while. I felt completely outside my body, unable to believe that this was really happening to us. My sadness quickly became anger— I was angry with God. Looking around the room and at my child I couldn’t find my faith or see any hope, just tubes and wires and my terrified little boy.