I have written a lot of stories about pediatric cancer. Hundreds, actually.
When I started writing for newspapers, I visited lots of children’s hospitals. I sat in lots of waiting rooms. I conducted lots of bedside interviews.
I embraced too many weeping parents, skeleton-thin from stress. I fell in love with too many bald children.
There was Benny, who vomited throughout most of our interview. He was crying while vomit trickled down his chin, saying, “Help me, Jesus.” He died two weeks later.
I wrote about Lydia. She was a middle-schooler. Glioblastoma took her from this world. We played Rook at her bedside. She lasted another year.
So when they found cancer on my 12-year-old goddaughter’s ear, I was a wreck.
All I could think about were those waiting rooms. Those emaciated parents. And the words spoken to me by the mother of a child who died of kidney cancer.
“My life is split into two parts,” the mother explained. “BC and AD; Before Cancer, and After Death.”
Our Becca. Precious Becca. The same Becca who was born to drug-addicted parents. The same Becca who’d been shuffled around foster care until being adopted by two loving parents. The same Becca who went blind. Who has lost some of her hearing. The same Becca who did me the honor of becoming my godchild.
The same Becca who has been my best good friend. My constituent in crime. The same Becca who sends me text messages every 8 to 10 minutes. The same Becca who used to crawl into my lap so I could hold her like a baby.
That Becca.
The worst part has been watching sadness overtake her. She would never admit to being sad, of course. She NEVER tells anyone she’s sad. But you could just tell.
There have been few smiles. Fewer laughs. She doesn’t even laugh when I make poot noises with my hands. That’s how bad.
A few weeks ago, surgeons cut off Becca’s ear. I talked to her right after surgery. It was like talking to Eeyore.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“They cut off my ear,” she said.
“I know,” I said, choking on my tears. “But how do you feel?”
“They cut off my ear.”
So when I pulled into the Chick-fil-A for our lunch date, I was sick. Namely, because Becca had come directly from her post-surgery follow-up appointment, where the doctors were going to tell her what they found.
There was no way I was going to feel well enough to eat. I was almost too ill to even get out of the truck.
I just sat in the front seat, thinking about chemo, radiation, immunotherapy, and other such medical pleasantries.
When Becca got out of her car, she simply threw her arms around me.
That’s when I knew it must be bad. Why else would she hug me without even speaking?
I squeezed her tight. Becca comes up to my chest. Her hair smells like little-kid shampoo. I swore to myself I wasn’t going to cry. For her sake.
Her head was tucked into my belly. I felt her heaving. I was sure she was sobbing. My eyes burned like the Dickens.
But when I pulled her away from me, I discovered I was wrong. Becca was not crying. She was laughing. Wildly. Her face had broken into a ginormous smile. She was jumping up and down.
“I’m cancer free!” she said. “THERE’S NO CANCER ON ME!”
Help me, Jesus.
12 comments
Lynn Poling - July 19, 2024 2:51 am
Thank you, Jesus.
Dee Thompson - July 19, 2024 3:18 am
Beautiful! So happy to hear this. You are getting to really experience how it feels to be a parent. It doesn’t get any easier when they grow up, trust me.
Might be a good place to mention that for anyone reading this who might want to do something to help kids with cancer, there ‘s St. Jude’s Research Hospital. They do amazing work, at no cost to families. http://www.stjude.org
Nancy - July 19, 2024 4:12 am
Yahooooooooooo‼️‼️
Julie Hall - July 19, 2024 12:55 pm
Yay!!!!! Such good news!!
Bubba Stubbs - July 19, 2024 1:08 pm
No doubt—answered prayers for Becca!
Toni - July 19, 2024 1:29 pm
Praise the Lord!
stephenpe - July 19, 2024 1:37 pm
wonderful wonderful news. We love you so much, Becca. You are like our child now.
Joy Hoffmann - July 19, 2024 2:02 pm
Just finished
Will the Circle Be Unbroken
All I can say is
You are a beautiful human being and thank you for sharing that beauty !
Alan quellmalz - July 19, 2024 2:21 pm
Someday a cure(s). COVID vaccine was based on prior cancer research. Not science fiction but someday maybe soon a “moon landing”.
Deena k Charles - July 19, 2024 2:41 pm
Thank you for sharing this, and so thankful that it’s good news!!!
pattymack44 - July 19, 2024 9:39 pm
❤️❤️❤️
Vince - July 20, 2024 1:46 pm
We give every year to St Jude to help both kids and parents dealing with cancer. Sean, if you haven’t already wrote about how St Jude came to be I bet your style would make the story even better!