{NMB has partnered with Leukemia & Lymphoma Society for this sponsored post. We strongly believe in the work that they do and are proud to be a part of their fight agains cancer!}
I remember. Ms. Christy pulled up outside of our house to drop off my friend Teresa—ostensibly for an afternoon of play. I remember whispered conversations between the adults. Drawn by the mystery and the clear tone of worry, Teresa and I hovered nearby. I watched as Ms. Christy gently gripped Teresa’s little sister Michelle’s legs. Bruises bloomed there almost immediately. More whispers. More worry. They left to see the doctor, and Teresa and I huddled in the backyard and played.
I remember. Upon their return, Michelle was sent out to the yard to play with us. She and my sister headed for the swing set, and Teresa and I kept an eye on the adults. I remember Ms. Christy crying. Ms. Christy had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember, and she most assuredly did NOT cry. More whispers. More worry.
I remember. After they left, my parents had my siblings and me circle up on the rug in the living room. We were going to have a family meeting. My mother calmly explained that Michelle had been diagnosed with leukemia. I watched the tears slip down her face as she pulled out the “L” encyclopedia book. We read the article on leukemia together, and she tried to field our questions. I felt the dread well up, take a cold grip on my heart, and tie my stomach into knots. How could my friend’s little sister have cancer? Would she die? I cried myself to sleep that night.
I remember. Over the next several months, there were many trips to the doctor and to the hospital. We lived over an hour’s drive from the hospital where Michelle received most of her care, so there were many times that Teresa stayed with us for extended periods or that their entire family was gone for several days. Michelle went through rounds of treatments, lost her hair, and lost her appetite. However, she was always a fighter, and her family stood strong with her. She was really patient with all of our questions and attention to her newly exposed scalp, and she handled it like a champ when strangers stared—and they always stared.
I remember. There was so much joy when Michelle went into remission. It had taken years, and there would be many doctor visits in the future, but I believe we all felt that we had witnessed something miraculous. I remember how she couldn’t seem to put down her hairbrush when her hair grew back. I remember reflective moments during visits over the years. Their family moved away, but we stayed in touch.
Today. Michelle has graduated college, gotten married, and they are expecting their first child. I have nothing but gratitude for all those who have worked so hard toward treatment and a cure. Without them, I would not have this story of hope and triumph to tell.
This year, Sylvan Learning is partnering with The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society through Light The Night, with a commitment to raise $250,000 and to donate more than 12,000 hours of free tutoring services in nearly 200 communities nationwide to help young blood cancer patients and their families with the transition back into academics. You can help them to achieve these goals:
There are nearly 200 Light the Night walks nationwide this fall. It’s easy to walk by registering and joining a team. Learn more about how LLS and Sylvan are helping young cancer patients and their families manage. Find a walk in your area, and join a Sylvan Learning walk team in supporting this great cause!
