Dear Jake,
Another year has gone by in a flash and here you are, already six. Mere words could never accurately describe my love for you. You are an amazing person. You are brilliant, funny, thoughtful, gentle, compassionate, and kind. You always take the time to show others how you feel about them. You are still my baby boy in a lot of ways, yet you are very mature. You still have no idea what you've overcome, how much of a hero you are, or how you've inspired others. I hope to share all of this with you some day when you're ready. You excelled in kindergarten this year, in all areas, but especially in reading. You are very creative - you love to color, play Minecraft, and build with Lego's. Recently you have aspired to come a "doctor who treats kids in the hospital" and an architect. I will help you in any way possible to make your dreams come true. You rarely get in trouble, but if you do it's because of your temper. You can get mad if you don't get your way, and boy can you bicker with your sister.
You love to play golf and swim - both great sports choices for you! Otherwise you are a very active boy who loves hide and seek and playing at the playground. I'm so glad you are living the normal childhood you deserve and I can't wait to see who you become and what you accomplish in life.
I love you, my sweet pea.
Mommy
On November 5, 2012 we learned that our 3 year old son Jake has an extremely rare bone cancer called Ewing's Sarcoma. This page is for our friends, family, and friends we don't yet know to keep up with Jake's progress. Follow us on Facebook at: www.facebook.com/jakersrussell
Showing posts with label childhood cancer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label childhood cancer. Show all posts
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Rally for Jake (and all kids fighting cancer)
On November 5th, 2012 our lives were changed forever with the words, “There was no infection present, I’m so sorry”. This came after a biopsy confirmed our 3 year old son Jake had a rare form of cancer called Ewing’s sarcoma. We had never heard those words before, and always brushed pediatric cancer off as cute bald kids holding stuffed animals and balloons.
It wasn't our child….it wasn't our problem.
It became our problem that day, and we realized quickly just how big of a problem this was. It was far from cute bald kids that were holding teddy bears. For the next 10 months our little boy would be exposed to chemo drugs that were developed in the 1950's and 60's, multiple surgeries including an allograft to rebuild his deteriorated left tibia, countless hours of crying and screaming. He spent Christmas of that year in the hospital on a morphine pump for pain, the next Easter in the hospital, and even his 4th birthday. He was given the title “Survivor” and NED on 9/17/2013 as his scans showed him to be cancer free, which has remained the case to this day. It didn't stop our fight though, because cancer tried to take our little boy from us. It made us angry….
How can so many diseases that destroy families and take children receive so little attention from society and our leaders? How can so little be done to help our most vulnerable citizens? Why had a never seen a GOLD ribbon in my life until my son was fighting for his life when this is the number 1 disease killer of children in the United States?!?!??
I am just a dad who loves his family. I can’t cure cancer no matter how smart I may think I am….so what can I do?
I can run…..and I will. I’ll run because 5 hours of pain is absolutely nothing compared to what kids go through everyday in hospitals everywhere. I’ll run because everyday families hear the words we heard, and worse some hear “there’s nothing more we can do”. This isn't acceptable…it must change…..so I’ll run until it does.
Please donate something…anything….for Jake….for so many others….let’s be the change.
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Rally at UGA by Jill Slabacheski
We were asked by Jill Slabacheski, a student and member of Rally at UGA, to do an interview about our family and experiences with cancer and Rally Foundation. She was creating a campaigns project for one of her classes and decided to do it about the Rally Foundation. For one of the pieces, she wrote a magazine spread showing the heart of the organization. Below is the article she wrote. (We think she did an awesome job!)
The Russell family was thrown for a loop when they brought Jake in to the
hospital for what they thought was a minor injury but received news that would change their lives forever.
For about six weeks, Jake had been waking up at night with a sore ankle, which parents Randy and Kait presumed to be “growing pains,” for he was at the susceptible age. On October 11, 2012, a kid on a bicycle hit Jake in the street, and two days later he had whacked his shin on a chair causing him agony. Thinking he might have fractured his tibia when he had fallen two days prior, Randy and Kait took Jake to his pediatrician and she ordered an x-ray.
When the doctors relayed the news to the family that Jake had Ewings Sarcoma, a rare bone cancer most common for those in their early teen years, the family was at a loss for words.
“I remember looking at Kait and seeing the pain in her eyes and holding her,”
Randy said, “I was completely numb for 24 hours. It seemed like a bad dream that I was sure I would wake up from.” Kait agreed. She recalls thinking, “Oh my God, my baby has cancer. This is really happening – this is not a dream.”
Being so young, Jake and the other two children, Ethan and Aubrey, did not fully understand the extent of the procedures and everything surrounding the processes in general. They knew Jake was sick and needed to be taken care of, but the ability to grasp the intensity of the matter was unattainable. Kait believes this was more or less a good thing because they did not know that Jake’s life was in danger with every step they took throughout the journey. Ethan, the eldest of the three, was worried about his best friend’s continuous visits to the hospital, but never fully comprehended the need for the revisits.
Ethan, whose main goal throughout the entire process was to keep a smile on Jake’s face, never failed to stay strong. When asked what his favorite part about being a big brother is, he proudly responded, “Protecting [my] little brother and sister.” After watching the way the three of these children interact, I do not think anyone would disagree with this statement.
Jake spent the majority of his time receiving treatment and recuperating at
Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, Egelston, at the Aflac Cancer and Blood Disorders Center. An extensive process calls for an extensive team, and Jake received top of the line care from an amazing group of individuals. Pediatrician Dr. Hutchins-Howard, oncologists Dr. Katzenstein and Dr. Cash, surgeons Dr. Fletcher and Dr. Oskouei, Jake’s favorite nurse Lauren Yeomans, child/life specialist Layne Umberger, and all of the countless other employees of CHOA made Jake’s fight a pleasant one, and never ceased to make the Russell family feel as comfortable as possible.
“I honestly don’t know how they do it, going in and smiling everyday,”
commented Randy, “We never seemed to meet an employee that wasn't in a good mood. I don’t know how you deal with what they do on a daily basis and still smile. They are special people.”
Devastating events such as a pediatric cancer diagnosis put a family’s strength
and love to the test. The Russell family fought through a heart wrenching
experience that most families only visit in their worst nightmares. Not only have they become closer, but also they have learned how important the entire family unit is in crisis situations. As parents, Randy and Kait have learned that life is a precious gift and every day should be enjoyed and spent learning the ropes of life, no matter the road you take to get there. They have become more open to accepting the idea of “what is,” rather than thinking about the “what if’s” in life.
“I have learned that children are much stronger than adults. I learned that I’m a
lot stronger than I thought I was. I learned that cancer itself is very painful and the treatment for it can be almost as bad,” Kait said. “You learn also that it’s okay to hurt, and that it’s okay to let people see that you’re hurt. It’s what makes us human,” Randy added.
The Russell family continues to take everything that they have learned over the past couple of years and put it in to their daily lives. This year, Ethan is attending Camp Sunshine in Atlanta where he will spend time with children and families that have gone through similar experiences. Campers who have endured the challenges of cancer in their family create a network of support and gain new strength and hope as they learn from one another’s experiences. The Russell’s also have all become strong advocates for the Rally Foundation and Be the Match, spreading awareness of pediatric cancer and sister organizations. Childhood cancer research and awareness is extremely underfunded, which is both alarming and unacceptable. Children and adults are different in terms of
what they can physically endure for medical treatments, and it is imperative that this focus be paid more attention, for it is the leading cause of death for children ages 0-19 in the United States. This is why they Rally.
Jake had commented on the fact that if he could be any superhero, he would be Superman. Little does he know, he is the true superhero himself after defeating the harshest form of kryptonite imaginable.
The Russell family was thrown for a loop when they brought Jake in to the
hospital for what they thought was a minor injury but received news that would change their lives forever.
For about six weeks, Jake had been waking up at night with a sore ankle, which parents Randy and Kait presumed to be “growing pains,” for he was at the susceptible age. On October 11, 2012, a kid on a bicycle hit Jake in the street, and two days later he had whacked his shin on a chair causing him agony. Thinking he might have fractured his tibia when he had fallen two days prior, Randy and Kait took Jake to his pediatrician and she ordered an x-ray.
When the doctors relayed the news to the family that Jake had Ewings Sarcoma, a rare bone cancer most common for those in their early teen years, the family was at a loss for words.
“I remember looking at Kait and seeing the pain in her eyes and holding her,”
Randy said, “I was completely numb for 24 hours. It seemed like a bad dream that I was sure I would wake up from.” Kait agreed. She recalls thinking, “Oh my God, my baby has cancer. This is really happening – this is not a dream.”
Being so young, Jake and the other two children, Ethan and Aubrey, did not fully understand the extent of the procedures and everything surrounding the processes in general. They knew Jake was sick and needed to be taken care of, but the ability to grasp the intensity of the matter was unattainable. Kait believes this was more or less a good thing because they did not know that Jake’s life was in danger with every step they took throughout the journey. Ethan, the eldest of the three, was worried about his best friend’s continuous visits to the hospital, but never fully comprehended the need for the revisits.
Ethan, whose main goal throughout the entire process was to keep a smile on Jake’s face, never failed to stay strong. When asked what his favorite part about being a big brother is, he proudly responded, “Protecting [my] little brother and sister.” After watching the way the three of these children interact, I do not think anyone would disagree with this statement.
Jake spent the majority of his time receiving treatment and recuperating at
Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta, Egelston, at the Aflac Cancer and Blood Disorders Center. An extensive process calls for an extensive team, and Jake received top of the line care from an amazing group of individuals. Pediatrician Dr. Hutchins-Howard, oncologists Dr. Katzenstein and Dr. Cash, surgeons Dr. Fletcher and Dr. Oskouei, Jake’s favorite nurse Lauren Yeomans, child/life specialist Layne Umberger, and all of the countless other employees of CHOA made Jake’s fight a pleasant one, and never ceased to make the Russell family feel as comfortable as possible.
“I honestly don’t know how they do it, going in and smiling everyday,”
commented Randy, “We never seemed to meet an employee that wasn't in a good mood. I don’t know how you deal with what they do on a daily basis and still smile. They are special people.”
Devastating events such as a pediatric cancer diagnosis put a family’s strength
and love to the test. The Russell family fought through a heart wrenching
experience that most families only visit in their worst nightmares. Not only have they become closer, but also they have learned how important the entire family unit is in crisis situations. As parents, Randy and Kait have learned that life is a precious gift and every day should be enjoyed and spent learning the ropes of life, no matter the road you take to get there. They have become more open to accepting the idea of “what is,” rather than thinking about the “what if’s” in life.
“I have learned that children are much stronger than adults. I learned that I’m a
lot stronger than I thought I was. I learned that cancer itself is very painful and the treatment for it can be almost as bad,” Kait said. “You learn also that it’s okay to hurt, and that it’s okay to let people see that you’re hurt. It’s what makes us human,” Randy added.
The Russell family continues to take everything that they have learned over the past couple of years and put it in to their daily lives. This year, Ethan is attending Camp Sunshine in Atlanta where he will spend time with children and families that have gone through similar experiences. Campers who have endured the challenges of cancer in their family create a network of support and gain new strength and hope as they learn from one another’s experiences. The Russell’s also have all become strong advocates for the Rally Foundation and Be the Match, spreading awareness of pediatric cancer and sister organizations. Childhood cancer research and awareness is extremely underfunded, which is both alarming and unacceptable. Children and adults are different in terms of
what they can physically endure for medical treatments, and it is imperative that this focus be paid more attention, for it is the leading cause of death for children ages 0-19 in the United States. This is why they Rally.
Jake had commented on the fact that if he could be any superhero, he would be Superman. Little does he know, he is the true superhero himself after defeating the harshest form of kryptonite imaginable.
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
Summer and Back to School
Later in June Jake participated in a golf clinic and he LOVED it. He says his favorite hobby is playing golf, with playing Toy Story 3 on Wii as a close second.
In July, he took swimming lessons. The first day was rough, but by the end of the week he was swimming on his own and was confident.
The rest of the summer was spent playing on the daily. Then on August 11th, Jake started kindergarten. He had counted down the days and it had finally come! His teacher is Mrs. Webb, and is the same teacher that his brother, Ethan, had for kindergarten. When I filled out the paperwork for school I got the the medical history part and had to put a check mark in the "cancer" box. Slight nervous break down. Don't mind me...I'm just the crazy women crying while filling out normal paperwork. Who knows what the other parents in the room thought, but trust me you'd cry too if you had to check that box. I pulled Mrs. Webb aside to tell her about Jake's tremendous flatulence, side effect of chemo or he's a gassy kid- nobody knows. Anyway, if he needs to go to the bathroom she will excuse him to take care of business in private.
He's been complaining of ankle pain sporadically. When will he complain and us not immediately think "oh shit"? Probably never. I assume the pain is from all of the physical activity he's getting but if it becomes not-sporadic we'll head to the doctor. Jake is scheduled for his one year scans on Sept 15, 2014. He'll be getting his normal x-ray of the leg and chest, blood work, and an echo-cardiogram to check for damage to his heart. We're optimistic that we'll be celebrating clear scans, but we appreciate your thoughts and prayers over the matter. I hope to update his blog on a more regular basis, but if I don't you can always follow us on facebook- www.facebook.com/jakersrussell or at www.jakesfight.com
September is childhood cancer awareness month and we are excited to fundraise, advocate, and spread awareness like crazy! We hope you'll join us :)
Monday, February 17, 2014
Walking along and...Slap!
Kait:
We're moving along in life, enjoying a beautiful day and, believe it or not, the fact that Jake had cancer is fading to the background. Can it be possible to not think about cancer every second of every day? Well, apparently it is possible to move forward with everyday tasks and activities. We can actually go out in public without being stared at with "sad eyes". Like today for instance, the kids are out of school for President's Day so we slept in, ate breakfast, and played a little. Jake had a physical therapy appointment at 11am and we grabbed some lunch after at a new Mexican restaurant in town. It's just me and the three kids since Randy, unfortunately, did not get the day off school. Our kids are 2, 4, and 6 years old so you can imagine we are like a traveling circus everywhere we go. Aubrey refused to sit in the highchair so a good compromise was to let her sit next to me in the booth. To her this means jumping up and down and singing at the top of her lungs. Jake ordered chicken nuggets...yes, at the Mexican restaurant. He refuses to touch them and proceeds to eat cheese dip likes its water. Ethan, the oldest,inhales eats his taco like a good boy. In the midst of normal conversation, Ethan says, "Well, it's almost time for Jake to go to the hospital again. The doctor said he has to go back every three months and March will be three months since he's been." And there cancer goes, slapping me in the face again. Yes, Jake is due for his six month post treatment scans on March 6, 2014, this is not news to me. However, it is shocking to me that a six year old would be keeping track of this. Instead of thinking about the next holiday or birthday he is thinking about his brother having to go to the hospital. It makes me so mad that cancer keeps rearing its ugly head. I want to scream, "Get out of our lives! Get our of our minds! You are not welcome here." People tell me that it gets easier as time goes by, but I honestly feel that cancer will always be a part of our lives in one way or another. I hope that eventually I will not be so emotional about it. As of now everything I see about childhood cancer brings me to tears. Doesn't matter if it's good, like a Make-a-Wish being granted or bad, like a child dying. Everything that has to do with cancer is emotional. Cancer is so evil, I can actually imagine it having a face with a look of malice. Always trying to cause pain.
Anyway, I have to get over the fact that I can't protect my kids from everything. It's probably best to involve Ethan in Jake's appointments rather than hoping he'll be in ignorant bliss. Obviously, he knows what's up and he is far from ignorant. As far as Jake's healing progress, he is doing amazingly well. We saw his surgeon on 2/4/14 and he was so pleased. He said that we couldn't ask for better and that Jake is free to do any activities he would like. He can be an active little boy again! Jake's tibia has grown enough on both ends that if he were to break a screw or have a complication, the Dr would be able to fix it. We know that there's a good chance Jake might break something in that leg someday and we are okay with it. We refuse to limit him - we will never tell him "you can't" when he's been given this second chance at life. At physical therapy, his wonderful PTs have been working hard to help Jake walk straight and without a limp. He is gaining strength and is really starting to trust his left leg. When he walks slowly you wouldn't even know that he had major surgery.
[Click below to see a video of Jake walking.]
I am very thankful for where we are in life, but, most of the time it is hard to believe that this is our life. I was thinking the other day that I wish I could go back to when Ethan was a baby so I could know what it felt like to hold him once again. Then I thought to myself, would I be willing to relive the past year and a half just to experience holding my first born again? God forgive me, but nothing would be worth going through cancer treatment again. N.o.t.h.i.n.g.
I know that there will be times like today where cancer and Jake's journey will jump to the forefront of my mind. I will accept whatever comes our way, help others as we can, raise awareness for childhood cancer, and thank God every single day that our traveling circus is as noisy as ever.
We're moving along in life, enjoying a beautiful day and, believe it or not, the fact that Jake had cancer is fading to the background. Can it be possible to not think about cancer every second of every day? Well, apparently it is possible to move forward with everyday tasks and activities. We can actually go out in public without being stared at with "sad eyes". Like today for instance, the kids are out of school for President's Day so we slept in, ate breakfast, and played a little. Jake had a physical therapy appointment at 11am and we grabbed some lunch after at a new Mexican restaurant in town. It's just me and the three kids since Randy, unfortunately, did not get the day off school. Our kids are 2, 4, and 6 years old so you can imagine we are like a traveling circus everywhere we go. Aubrey refused to sit in the highchair so a good compromise was to let her sit next to me in the booth. To her this means jumping up and down and singing at the top of her lungs. Jake ordered chicken nuggets...yes, at the Mexican restaurant. He refuses to touch them and proceeds to eat cheese dip likes its water. Ethan, the oldest,
Anyway, I have to get over the fact that I can't protect my kids from everything. It's probably best to involve Ethan in Jake's appointments rather than hoping he'll be in ignorant bliss. Obviously, he knows what's up and he is far from ignorant. As far as Jake's healing progress, he is doing amazingly well. We saw his surgeon on 2/4/14 and he was so pleased. He said that we couldn't ask for better and that Jake is free to do any activities he would like. He can be an active little boy again! Jake's tibia has grown enough on both ends that if he were to break a screw or have a complication, the Dr would be able to fix it. We know that there's a good chance Jake might break something in that leg someday and we are okay with it. We refuse to limit him - we will never tell him "you can't" when he's been given this second chance at life. At physical therapy, his wonderful PTs have been working hard to help Jake walk straight and without a limp. He is gaining strength and is really starting to trust his left leg. When he walks slowly you wouldn't even know that he had major surgery.
[Click below to see a video of Jake walking.]
Post by Jake's fight against Ewing's sarcoma.
Randy is going to run his first marathon in March and is raising money in Jake's name for the Rally Foundation for childhood cancer research. If you have even a dollar to spare, would you consider donating?
https://www.rallyfoundation.org/run/half-marathon-training/publix-georgia-half-marathon-marathon/rally-for-jake-randy-Russell
Randy is going to run his first marathon in March and is raising money in Jake's name for the Rally Foundation for childhood cancer research. If you have even a dollar to spare, would you consider donating?
https://www.rallyfoundation.org/run/half-marathon-training/publix-georgia-half-marathon-marathon/rally-for-jake-randy-Russell
I know that there will be times like today where cancer and Jake's journey will jump to the forefront of my mind. I will accept whatever comes our way, help others as we can, raise awareness for childhood cancer, and thank God every single day that our traveling circus is as noisy as ever.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Catching Up
Kait: It is absolutely incredible how quickly Jake has recovered from chemo. He is back to the spunky, playful, adventurous, sharp, and thoughtful little boy he was almost a year ago. Is it really possible that this year of agony is forgotten in his mind? We know it isn't all forgotten because he still asks things like "Do I have a poke today?" and "Do I have to go to the hospital today?" I think it will be a little while before what became his normal routine fades from memory.
In case you don't follow us on facebook, this is what has been going on:
On September 5, 2013, Jake had his last chemo infusion of vincristine.
On September 16, 2013, Jake spiked a fever and since his port was still in we had to take him to the emergency room. A fever can turn into something much worse in a hurry. It was 2am on September 17, 2013 when we got there and they accessed his port, gave him an antibiotic and Tylenol, and checked his blood for infection. No serious infection was found so he was released at 5am. His post treatment scans were scheduled for 7am (two hours from then) so we slept in the ER room and then made our way to radiology.
He had to drink some contrast and was given the isotope for his PET and CT scans. He was sedated and the scans took about an hour. Next was X-rays of his chest and left leg. Then he had an appointment with his oncologist to check blood counts. Next was an echocardiogram to check for heart damage from the chemo. We then went back to the oncologist and we were told that we could schedule his port removal at our convenience and the preliminary results of the scans were all clear - no evidence of disease! On the drive home the oncologist called to tell us that the scans had been read in their entirety and they were officially all clear. Even the echo showed no signs of heart damage. This was the news we had been hoping and praying for for so long, and honestly it was surreal. We have been in this fight for ten months and all of a sudden we were released.
On October 1, 2013, Jake had surgery to remove his port. We had to be at the hospital at 6am and he was taken back for surgery at 8:40am. The surgery went very well and only took about an hour for him to be back to us from recovery. This was the final piece of the puzzle for complete freedom from the hospital. Now if he gets sick he can go to his pediatrician like any normal kid. Even his hair has started growing back!
We are very excited because Jake's wish to go to Disney World is being granted by Make-a-Wish this month. We are going to have an amazing vacation and we cannot wait! We are also going to get to visit Jake's Great Grandpa and Great Grandma on the way home.
Our next milestone will be seeing Jake's surgeon on November 1, 2013. We are hoping that Jake will be cleared to go back to physical therapy to start learning to walk again. I can't wait to be able to hold my little boy's hand as we walk side by side. That is something I have missed so much.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Last day of chemo!
Just a short post to let everyone know that Jake received his last chemo infusion today! It only took a few minutes and now he is done! Oh happy day!
Friday, August 30, 2013
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Can "If" become "When"?
Kait:
We start sentences with the word "if" all throughout the day. If it isn't raining we can go outside...if you do your homework you can watch tv...if I eat healthy at lunch I can have dessert...if if if. In our house we have all of those "ifs" plus the ones that are not so normal. First, the one hiding in the back of our minds- If Jake beats cancer ______(insert tearful sentiment here). And the current one- If Jake's counts are high enough then he can get chemo. Unfortunately, that "if" didn't pan out this week. His platelets were 23 and they needed to be 75. His hemoglobin was 5.9 so he needed a transfusion. What was supposed to be his last inpatient treatment turned out to be just a day spent in the clinic receiving blood. (Donate blood if you can!) Disappointing to say the least. I try so hard to go with the flow but it is so frustrating when there is nothing I can do to control the situation. I'm so ready to be done with chemo that I can taste it. The finish line is just out of reach, we can almost touch it! For now I will have to control myself by not let this setback cloud my emotions. Jake, however, was ecstatic to get to go home earlier than planned.
His oncologist postponed chemo for a week to let his body recover and hopefully this means he will be able to handle this last round with no problem. Once he completes the 17th round he will have one more clinic appointment where his port will be accessed and he'll receive vincristine (chemo) for the last time. That tentative date is September 5, 2013. Two weeks after that, on September 19, 2013, he will have all of his scans. Provided his scans are clear, we will schedule his port removal. We are planning to have a party to celebrate and will share the details once he completes round 17. I am a big believer in not celebrating too early so we want to make sure he is able to receive chemo next week before we share details.
I want to stop the ifs. I want to feel comfortable saying when. When Jake finishes chemo...when Jake beats cancer. Unfortunately with this type of cancer there is no remission so we won't know if he beat it for many many years down the road. You either got rid of all of the cancer cells or you didn't. And they can lay dormant for an undeterminable amount of time. At the five year mark we can start to relax a little. Until then we can walk on eggshells or we can make the choice to live positively and accept that our "when" is finally here. It won't be easy but I don't want to live my life in fear.
We start sentences with the word "if" all throughout the day. If it isn't raining we can go outside...if you do your homework you can watch tv...if I eat healthy at lunch I can have dessert...if if if. In our house we have all of those "ifs" plus the ones that are not so normal. First, the one hiding in the back of our minds- If Jake beats cancer ______(insert tearful sentiment here). And the current one- If Jake's counts are high enough then he can get chemo. Unfortunately, that "if" didn't pan out this week. His platelets were 23 and they needed to be 75. His hemoglobin was 5.9 so he needed a transfusion. What was supposed to be his last inpatient treatment turned out to be just a day spent in the clinic receiving blood. (Donate blood if you can!) Disappointing to say the least. I try so hard to go with the flow but it is so frustrating when there is nothing I can do to control the situation. I'm so ready to be done with chemo that I can taste it. The finish line is just out of reach, we can almost touch it! For now I will have to control myself by not let this setback cloud my emotions. Jake, however, was ecstatic to get to go home earlier than planned.
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| Green popsicles (hence the green teeth) keep him happy |
I want to stop the ifs. I want to feel comfortable saying when. When Jake finishes chemo...when Jake beats cancer. Unfortunately with this type of cancer there is no remission so we won't know if he beat it for many many years down the road. You either got rid of all of the cancer cells or you didn't. And they can lay dormant for an undeterminable amount of time. At the five year mark we can start to relax a little. Until then we can walk on eggshells or we can make the choice to live positively and accept that our "when" is finally here. It won't be easy but I don't want to live my life in fear.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Things you don't want to hear
From Randy:
I can't tell you how tired I am of these monsters....sure you're sick of me bitching about it...but you need to read this. Tonight I went with Ethan to visit Jake and Kait at Egleston....everything was okay while we visited. On the way out the room across the hall I could hear the child in there SCREAMING in pain....screaming for someone to help him (he is 10 years old)....Kait said he had been ...pretty much vomiting since they got there Thursday afternoon. We stopped and said hi to Colton (another Ewings fighter) and his wonderful parents Scott and Kristi. He has been in the hospital for over a week now with a blood infection and it in ICU (sedated and on a ventilator). He just got moved to the oncology wing today. He pretty much spent his birthday half sedated, and is currently just trying to keep his head up and hold things in his stomach.
We can't sit back and just "like" statuses and pray....we have to do something. We can help end this cycle of pain. We can stop these kids' suffering....there has to be a better way. They are being treated with drugs that originated when Nixon was in office. Do you realize how insane it is that in a society where technology is moving at the speed of light that we HAVE ONLY ONE NEW DRUG to show for the past 25 years of research in pediatric cancers?
I want to scream sometimes...and get angry as f**k...tonight it took everything in my soul to not cry my eyes out when I got to the car...but I didn't want Ethan to see me like that. It's hard enough to know that he heard and saw the same things that I did tonight...and he's old enough to understand that it wasn't normal.
Why is this normal for treatment of these diseases....why do we accept these barbaric treatments for our children? Why is it okay to inject our kids with drugs that originated as parts of mustard gas (see origins of Doxorubicin)?
CHILDHOOD CANCER ISN'T CUTE BALD KIDS HOLDING BALLOONS....
I'm so angry right now.....
We can't sit back and just "like" statuses and pray....we have to do something. We can help end this cycle of pain. We can stop these kids' suffering....there has to be a better way. They are being treated with drugs that originated when Nixon was in office. Do you realize how insane it is that in a society where technology is moving at the speed of light that we HAVE ONLY ONE NEW DRUG to show for the past 25 years of research in pediatric cancers?
I want to scream sometimes...and get angry as f**k...tonight it took everything in my soul to not cry my eyes out when I got to the car...but I didn't want Ethan to see me like that. It's hard enough to know that he heard and saw the same things that I did tonight...and he's old enough to understand that it wasn't normal.
Why is this normal for treatment of these diseases....why do we accept these barbaric treatments for our children? Why is it okay to inject our kids with drugs that originated as parts of mustard gas (see origins of Doxorubicin)?
CHILDHOOD CANCER ISN'T CUTE BALD KIDS HOLDING BALLOONS....
I'm so angry right now.....
From Kait: I am so glad that this is the last night of Jake's 5-day chemo. 5 days is a long time to hear sounds of crying, throwing up, screaming, and pain- and they aren't even coming from my kid! I am so thankful that this time Jake is only crying is when he has to drink his medicine. Of course he will cry in pain and fear when it is time to de-access his port tomorrow. If all goes as planned Jake will only have his port accessed two more times...EVER! I can't wait for Jake's healing to be complete. Then maybe Randy and I can start healing our hearts from the agony we have been living for the past 10 months.
We are watching a lot of movies, going to the playroom, and visiting the gift shop to pass the time and he is in a pretty good mood. He keeps asking when Thanksgiving is because that is tentatively when he will be cleared to start walking again. He says he is tired of crawling and doesn't like hopping on his walker because he isn't fast enough to play with his brother. We are asking for prayers to keep the cancer away and specifically for complete healing in his leg so that he can walk in November. We know there is a chance that it won't heal like it needs to, but we are remaining optimistic. Jake says "hi!"
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
On the news!
Just wanted to post the video of Landon with Miles2Give and Jake that ran on the 10pm news here in Atlanta! More on the visit with Landon to come...
http://www.myfoxatlanta.com/story/22961750/runners-log-3200-miles-fight-sarcoma-cancer
Atlanta News, Weather, Traffic, and Sports | FOX 5
http://www.myfoxatlanta.com/story/22961750/runners-log-3200-miles-fight-sarcoma-cancer
Atlanta News, Weather, Traffic, and Sports | FOX 5
Saturday, June 29, 2013
The Rug Under our Feet
Kait (Jake's Mommy):
We keep hearing of children becoming seriously ill or even dying from infections and complications from the effects of chemo. It is amazing how in the blink of an eye your child can go from playing to fighting for his life. Jake is doing well today, but nothing is promised and at any moment he could fall ill as well. Every day I pray to God to keep watch over Jake. Please don't let the rug get swept out from under us. I don't ever want to be told to "say our goodbyes" to him because he may not make it through the night. I hate having these thoughts on a daily basis. I hate walking on eggshells and living in fear. I can't wait to tell Jake that he is done getting chemo...done with shots...done with finger pokes. Can't you just imagine the smile on his face when we get to tell him that? I'm so thankful that we are getting closer to being able to with every passing day. I know he is ready to be done going to the hospital too. I think he must have dreams about going there because he wakes up and the first thing he says is "Do I have to go to an appointment today?" It sucks that he has to go through this. A four year old, let alone any child, should not have to worry about getting poked and prodded on a daily basis. It's safe to say that this "cancer" thing is getting old.
So there's my long overdue rant, now hopefully I can more forward. Jake has four more treatments to complete until his protocol is finished. Today is day 6 (day one is the first day he received chemo this round) and his counts will get to a low point any time between now and day 10. He goes in for a clinic appointment to check blood counts on Monday and he will also get a (day 8) Vincristine (chemo drug) push while we are there. This will be a short appointment but nonetheless, he will not be happy about going. The boot he has been wearing on his left leg has become too big for him and it starts sliding off and rubbing on his foot almost immediately after we put it on. It has gotten to where he doesn't even want to wear it because it is uncomfortable. So, I called his surgeon and scheduled an appointment to get him refitted for a new boot this Tuesday. Hopefully that will solve the problem of getting him to keep the boot on. I get so worried about him playing on the floor and crawling around with nothing protecting his leg. Our house is pretty full since we have two adults, three kids, two dogs, and two cats living here. It's a zoo and it's never quiet, but we wouldn't change it for the world. But, it does mean that there is always someone running around who could step on or trip over Jake's leg. Should I let him play and have a good time with his brother and sister, or try to keep him in a protective bubble? I want to let them play because it is such a sweet sound hearing them laugh. But would it be worth having something happen to his leg? I don't know the answer, but I think it is important for the kids to have fun together. I only hope that the way that I take care of them and the choices that I make for them are the right ones.
We keep hearing of children becoming seriously ill or even dying from infections and complications from the effects of chemo. It is amazing how in the blink of an eye your child can go from playing to fighting for his life. Jake is doing well today, but nothing is promised and at any moment he could fall ill as well. Every day I pray to God to keep watch over Jake. Please don't let the rug get swept out from under us. I don't ever want to be told to "say our goodbyes" to him because he may not make it through the night. I hate having these thoughts on a daily basis. I hate walking on eggshells and living in fear. I can't wait to tell Jake that he is done getting chemo...done with shots...done with finger pokes. Can't you just imagine the smile on his face when we get to tell him that? I'm so thankful that we are getting closer to being able to with every passing day. I know he is ready to be done going to the hospital too. I think he must have dreams about going there because he wakes up and the first thing he says is "Do I have to go to an appointment today?" It sucks that he has to go through this. A four year old, let alone any child, should not have to worry about getting poked and prodded on a daily basis. It's safe to say that this "cancer" thing is getting old.
So there's my long overdue rant, now hopefully I can more forward. Jake has four more treatments to complete until his protocol is finished. Today is day 6 (day one is the first day he received chemo this round) and his counts will get to a low point any time between now and day 10. He goes in for a clinic appointment to check blood counts on Monday and he will also get a (day 8) Vincristine (chemo drug) push while we are there. This will be a short appointment but nonetheless, he will not be happy about going. The boot he has been wearing on his left leg has become too big for him and it starts sliding off and rubbing on his foot almost immediately after we put it on. It has gotten to where he doesn't even want to wear it because it is uncomfortable. So, I called his surgeon and scheduled an appointment to get him refitted for a new boot this Tuesday. Hopefully that will solve the problem of getting him to keep the boot on. I get so worried about him playing on the floor and crawling around with nothing protecting his leg. Our house is pretty full since we have two adults, three kids, two dogs, and two cats living here. It's a zoo and it's never quiet, but we wouldn't change it for the world. But, it does mean that there is always someone running around who could step on or trip over Jake's leg. Should I let him play and have a good time with his brother and sister, or try to keep him in a protective bubble? I want to let them play because it is such a sweet sound hearing them laugh. But would it be worth having something happen to his leg? I don't know the answer, but I think it is important for the kids to have fun together. I only hope that the way that I take care of them and the choices that I make for them are the right ones.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
#jakesfight
Kait:
Every night I lie in bed and so many things come to mind that I think, oh I should write about that! And then I fall asleep and it's gone. So before I forget about today...
It was an early morning. Jake and I had to leave by 7:30am to get to Atlanta for his 13th chemo treatment. After a ton of traffic and a detour, we arrived 10 minutes late for his appointment at 9:30am. The whole way he went back and forth between talking about random 4-year-old things and saying "but, I really don't feel like going to the hospital today!" He asked, as he always does, "do they have to do my port?" We have a strict no lie policy because he is really too smart to be tricked. Then he cries and says again that he just doesn't feel like going. Well, neither do I. But we're going to get this one under our belts and then we'll only have four more to go! His favorite triage nurse (Ms. Jamilla) does her job quickly and distracts him by blowing bubbles. He still screams during the finger poke, but the bubbles resume and he recovers very quickly. Next stop is the clinic room where we go over all his medications and when he last took them, and is he pooping? The pooping is still an issue for him. He is so emotionally scarred from the pain he experienced while having mucusitis that he still holds it as long as physically possible. We are baffled by his strength...let's leave it at that.
His counts came back from the lab and I was really surprised to find out that his hemoglobin was only 7.8 and his platelets were 38. The way they describe it to me is that if you or I had that low number for hemoglobin that we wouldn't get out of bed. Jake looked a little pale but he certainly didn't act like he was low on energy. His white blood count was over 11 so we aren't concerned about that number and we chose not to do a transfusion for the hemoglobin number because he is acting fine and we can assume that the number is on the rise. All of this means that he couldn't be admitted for chemo today. I am getting much better about it (because I have no choice) but I still don't like it when plans change so I'm a little disappointed. Not just because the plans changed, but I wanted to get another round over with. Oh well, can't control it and we do what is best for Jake.
A friend that we met throughout the Ewings sarcoma journey was planning to come up to the hospital today so that we could meet in person for the first time. Her name is Carol Basso and she is with 1 million 4 anna, a Ewings sarcoma charity based out of Texas. Her beautiful daughter, Anna, passed away two years ago from this horrible disease and yet Carol continues to offer support, prayers, friendship, love, and encouragement to fellow Ewings families. For meeting only for the first time we feel like we've known her forever. Jake played a card game with Carol and he cracked us up with his enthusiasm for the game.
My cousin, Meaghan, mentioned something to my brother, John, about how when you're pregnant you notice all the other pregnant women and think, gee is everyone pregnant? Then she said it seems the same way with cancer. I don't know if any of you have experienced it as well, but we have found so many kids battling the same cancer as Jake, as well as many other forms. Were we just blind to it before?
Our friend, Jennifer, was getting a ring fixed at a local jeweler recently and the jeweler saw her "Jake's Fight" bracelet and was taken aback. It turns out that he had Ewings in his ribs and spine when he was 12 years old and is now 59 years old. He's a survivor...a long term survivor! We went by the shop he works at today to meet him and he told us about his treatment and the late effects that it caused. But mostly he just empathized with what we are going through. It is such a good feeling to have tangible evidence that this disease can be beaten. Of course we are always reminded about how fragile life is when we hear of two children passing from Ewings this week. Things become routine and normal for us and it's easy to let the seriousness of Jake's cancer get pushed to the back burner. Plus, if you thought about it all the time you would be an emotional wreck! Then when you read that someone else's baby died from the same disease it's like a smack to the back of the head. This is serious! Yes, he's doing well but at some point all of these kids are too. Once the reality knocks me upside the head I feel a strange sense of urgency to spread awareness. I hope that you do too and want to share Jake's story with anyone who will listen. He's just one boy, but to us he is one remarkable boy, and certainly not the last who will be diagnosed with cancer. We created a website about Jake's fight so that his journey can be easily shared in one place. It is www.jakesfight.com and you can find lots of information there. Please visit the website and share it with everyone you know!
Most of you know that Jake has an older brother, Ethan and a younger sister, Aubrey and that I'm a photographer. I have been on hiatus since last November, but I still make time to take pictures of my kids. I took this one of Ethan around his 6th birthday last month. Isn't he handsome? :) He has been at my parents house for the past 10 days and he comes home tomorrow. We have missed him so much.
Every night I lie in bed and so many things come to mind that I think, oh I should write about that! And then I fall asleep and it's gone. So before I forget about today...
It was an early morning. Jake and I had to leave by 7:30am to get to Atlanta for his 13th chemo treatment. After a ton of traffic and a detour, we arrived 10 minutes late for his appointment at 9:30am. The whole way he went back and forth between talking about random 4-year-old things and saying "but, I really don't feel like going to the hospital today!" He asked, as he always does, "do they have to do my port?" We have a strict no lie policy because he is really too smart to be tricked. Then he cries and says again that he just doesn't feel like going. Well, neither do I. But we're going to get this one under our belts and then we'll only have four more to go! His favorite triage nurse (Ms. Jamilla) does her job quickly and distracts him by blowing bubbles. He still screams during the finger poke, but the bubbles resume and he recovers very quickly. Next stop is the clinic room where we go over all his medications and when he last took them, and is he pooping? The pooping is still an issue for him. He is so emotionally scarred from the pain he experienced while having mucusitis that he still holds it as long as physically possible. We are baffled by his strength...let's leave it at that.
His counts came back from the lab and I was really surprised to find out that his hemoglobin was only 7.8 and his platelets were 38. The way they describe it to me is that if you or I had that low number for hemoglobin that we wouldn't get out of bed. Jake looked a little pale but he certainly didn't act like he was low on energy. His white blood count was over 11 so we aren't concerned about that number and we chose not to do a transfusion for the hemoglobin number because he is acting fine and we can assume that the number is on the rise. All of this means that he couldn't be admitted for chemo today. I am getting much better about it (because I have no choice) but I still don't like it when plans change so I'm a little disappointed. Not just because the plans changed, but I wanted to get another round over with. Oh well, can't control it and we do what is best for Jake.
A friend that we met throughout the Ewings sarcoma journey was planning to come up to the hospital today so that we could meet in person for the first time. Her name is Carol Basso and she is with 1 million 4 anna, a Ewings sarcoma charity based out of Texas. Her beautiful daughter, Anna, passed away two years ago from this horrible disease and yet Carol continues to offer support, prayers, friendship, love, and encouragement to fellow Ewings families. For meeting only for the first time we feel like we've known her forever. Jake played a card game with Carol and he cracked us up with his enthusiasm for the game.
My cousin, Meaghan, mentioned something to my brother, John, about how when you're pregnant you notice all the other pregnant women and think, gee is everyone pregnant? Then she said it seems the same way with cancer. I don't know if any of you have experienced it as well, but we have found so many kids battling the same cancer as Jake, as well as many other forms. Were we just blind to it before?
Our friend, Jennifer, was getting a ring fixed at a local jeweler recently and the jeweler saw her "Jake's Fight" bracelet and was taken aback. It turns out that he had Ewings in his ribs and spine when he was 12 years old and is now 59 years old. He's a survivor...a long term survivor! We went by the shop he works at today to meet him and he told us about his treatment and the late effects that it caused. But mostly he just empathized with what we are going through. It is such a good feeling to have tangible evidence that this disease can be beaten. Of course we are always reminded about how fragile life is when we hear of two children passing from Ewings this week. Things become routine and normal for us and it's easy to let the seriousness of Jake's cancer get pushed to the back burner. Plus, if you thought about it all the time you would be an emotional wreck! Then when you read that someone else's baby died from the same disease it's like a smack to the back of the head. This is serious! Yes, he's doing well but at some point all of these kids are too. Once the reality knocks me upside the head I feel a strange sense of urgency to spread awareness. I hope that you do too and want to share Jake's story with anyone who will listen. He's just one boy, but to us he is one remarkable boy, and certainly not the last who will be diagnosed with cancer. We created a website about Jake's fight so that his journey can be easily shared in one place. It is www.jakesfight.com and you can find lots of information there. Please visit the website and share it with everyone you know!
Most of you know that Jake has an older brother, Ethan and a younger sister, Aubrey and that I'm a photographer. I have been on hiatus since last November, but I still make time to take pictures of my kids. I took this one of Ethan around his 6th birthday last month. Isn't he handsome? :) He has been at my parents house for the past 10 days and he comes home tomorrow. We have missed him so much.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Dear 4-year-old Jake
Dear Jake,
You are now four years old and you remind us of it daily! You are so funny, everything you do is because you're four now. "I am super fast because I'm four." "I can play longer now because I'm four." etc. etc. You say the funniest things and you are very smart. There are a millions adjectives I could use to describe you! You are sweet, brave, smart, funny, curious, sensitive, loving, trusting, creative...I could go on all day. I hate to be writing your birthday letter and have to include the word "cancer" but, you are who you are in some ways because of your fight against cancer. You are so strong and mature, yet sometimes I wonder if you even know that you are fighting for your life. Daddy and I are doing everything we can to keep your life as normal as possible so that when you read this letter some day you will wonder what it was like because you can't remember life ever being abnormal.
You have grown so much during the year of being three, it's remarkable. You are now a little boy and you try so hard to be like your brother and you are a wonderful big brother as well. You still have a hot temper and you love to throw things when you are mad. You have become quite the Daddy's boy, although you are very sweet to me as well. Your independence is inspiring as you insist on doing most things for yourself even though you can't walk and haven't been able to for almost four months now. I can't wait to see how much you change and grow over the next year. You are so excited to be starting pre-k in the Fall and we are very excited for you. You are a very special boy and your smile can change the world. We love you so much.
Mommy
You are now four years old and you remind us of it daily! You are so funny, everything you do is because you're four now. "I am super fast because I'm four." "I can play longer now because I'm four." etc. etc. You say the funniest things and you are very smart. There are a millions adjectives I could use to describe you! You are sweet, brave, smart, funny, curious, sensitive, loving, trusting, creative...I could go on all day. I hate to be writing your birthday letter and have to include the word "cancer" but, you are who you are in some ways because of your fight against cancer. You are so strong and mature, yet sometimes I wonder if you even know that you are fighting for your life. Daddy and I are doing everything we can to keep your life as normal as possible so that when you read this letter some day you will wonder what it was like because you can't remember life ever being abnormal.
You have grown so much during the year of being three, it's remarkable. You are now a little boy and you try so hard to be like your brother and you are a wonderful big brother as well. You still have a hot temper and you love to throw things when you are mad. You have become quite the Daddy's boy, although you are very sweet to me as well. Your independence is inspiring as you insist on doing most things for yourself even though you can't walk and haven't been able to for almost four months now. I can't wait to see how much you change and grow over the next year. You are so excited to be starting pre-k in the Fall and we are very excited for you. You are a very special boy and your smile can change the world. We love you so much.
Mommy
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Pressing on
Kait: We are working hard to keep Jake hydrated and eating after his 11th treatment last week. He went in last Thursday for his day 8 vincristine (chemo drug) push and he did okay. He was very nervous about this appointment and therefore there was a bit more crying than usual. Since then he has complained of some throat pain and "fuzziness" in his arms and hands, and has had many many bouts with rage. The fuzziness is neuropathy caused by the vincristine and will hopefully go away once chemo is over. In the meantime it is hard to hear him cry because he can't hold his spoon or play Mario Cart without his hands hurting. He has had 5 physical therapy visits so far and is doing great with it. He is scheduled for his 12th chemo treatment, which is 5 days inpatient on 5/31/13. During that stay he will have x-rays of his leg as well as a chest CT scan which I'm told is routine and not something to worry about. It's funny though because as soon as they say "don't worry" the scanxiety kicks in. There shouldn't be anything to worry about but it's almost impossible not to worry. Speaking of worry, we took Jake's sister Aubrey for her 15 month check up and found that she has a heart murmur. Her pediatrician referred us to a pediatric cardiologist to have it checked out. Better safe than sorry is our motto! She doesn't think it is something to worry about (there's that word again!) so we're trying hard not to.
Jake's brother, Ethan, had a fantastic 6th birthday last weekend and we hope to make Jake's upcoming 4th birthday on June 9th just as wonderful. Here is Jake's 1st year video and if you didn't already know, he was a big baby. 12lbs, 6.9oz, 22.5 inches
As of 5/26/13:
11 rounds of inpatient chemotherapy, 4 ER admits for chemo related illness, 3 surgeries (biopsy, port placement/bone marrow aspiration/radical resection of the tibia), 2 EKGs, 3 echocardiograms, 5 x-rays, 3 blood transfusions, an MRI, and 2 CT/PET scans. You have been sedated 3 times and put under general anesthesia 3 times. Your port has been accessed 24 times
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Treatment number 11
Kait:
Jake is being admitted today for treatment number 11. This is the last time that he will get doxorubicin, the "red devil" that causes mucusitis and heart damage. Because it can cause heart damage, Jake will have an echocardiogram before they start chemo today. I'm guessing that if there is anything wrong with his heart that they won't give him dox today. He has had echocardiograms before with clear results so we are hoping for the same today.
We are sitting in a clinic room watching Thomas the tank engine while we wait for an inpatient room. Admit day is the longest day of waiting. We got here at 10am for his appointment, signed consent forms, got labs and vitals, waited for the lab results, and got some juice. His EMLA cream is on his port and we are ready to get the port accessed and start his fluids.
Now it's 12:00 and he has just had his port accessed. He screamed "no no no no don't do it. Please no," over and over. The nurse is very quick so it's done within a few minutes and now he's back to watching his movie. He did ask for an extra piece of tape on his tube so that "mommy won't pull it out and hurt me." Kids have such great memories. Ugh.
Once he gets a bag of fluids in him he can give a urine sample and then the chemo can be ordered from the pharmacy. Although, not before the echo. So that is an added thing to wait for today.
Tomorrow is Ethan's last day of school and he is so excited to celebrate his birthday at school. Randy is going to bring cupcakes at lunch and I am not happy to be missing it. At least this is only a two day treatment so we can be home tomorrow afternoon and then celebrate his birthday on Saturday. We are hoping he will feel happy, special, and loved. We are trying to make his day extra special because he feels the effects of Jake's cancer too and he deserves to be the center of attention.
This past week, Jake has started physical therapy. He is to go twice a week for 8 weeks. They are mostly doing strength training for his arms and right leg plus stretching and massage on his left leg since he isn't allowed to walk. He loves it and it's so nice to take him to an appointment where he doesn't cry about going. This summer is going to be a challenge because Jake wants to do everything that Ethan does and doesn't understand why not. He wants us to be his legs to play tag and hide and seek. Of course we can do this sometimes but not all the time. I mean, he is heavy! Plus we have Aubrey to chase after as well. And, her favorite thing to do outside is run away. Hopefully, Jake will be able to learn to maneuver better in his wheelchair so that he can have a little more independence while simultaneously saving my aching back.
One other piece of news is that Jake's oncologist is leaving for a position at Vanderbilt in two months. We like him a lot so this was sad news for us. We are thankful that he is his doctor for the majority if his treatment and we know there are wonderful doctors who will take over for him.
It's a scatterbrained post like usual! Thanks for all of the well wishes, thoughts, and prayers for our whole family and for following our journey.
Jake is being admitted today for treatment number 11. This is the last time that he will get doxorubicin, the "red devil" that causes mucusitis and heart damage. Because it can cause heart damage, Jake will have an echocardiogram before they start chemo today. I'm guessing that if there is anything wrong with his heart that they won't give him dox today. He has had echocardiograms before with clear results so we are hoping for the same today.
We are sitting in a clinic room watching Thomas the tank engine while we wait for an inpatient room. Admit day is the longest day of waiting. We got here at 10am for his appointment, signed consent forms, got labs and vitals, waited for the lab results, and got some juice. His EMLA cream is on his port and we are ready to get the port accessed and start his fluids.
Now it's 12:00 and he has just had his port accessed. He screamed "no no no no don't do it. Please no," over and over. The nurse is very quick so it's done within a few minutes and now he's back to watching his movie. He did ask for an extra piece of tape on his tube so that "mommy won't pull it out and hurt me." Kids have such great memories. Ugh.
Once he gets a bag of fluids in him he can give a urine sample and then the chemo can be ordered from the pharmacy. Although, not before the echo. So that is an added thing to wait for today.
Tomorrow is Ethan's last day of school and he is so excited to celebrate his birthday at school. Randy is going to bring cupcakes at lunch and I am not happy to be missing it. At least this is only a two day treatment so we can be home tomorrow afternoon and then celebrate his birthday on Saturday. We are hoping he will feel happy, special, and loved. We are trying to make his day extra special because he feels the effects of Jake's cancer too and he deserves to be the center of attention.
This past week, Jake has started physical therapy. He is to go twice a week for 8 weeks. They are mostly doing strength training for his arms and right leg plus stretching and massage on his left leg since he isn't allowed to walk. He loves it and it's so nice to take him to an appointment where he doesn't cry about going. This summer is going to be a challenge because Jake wants to do everything that Ethan does and doesn't understand why not. He wants us to be his legs to play tag and hide and seek. Of course we can do this sometimes but not all the time. I mean, he is heavy! Plus we have Aubrey to chase after as well. And, her favorite thing to do outside is run away. Hopefully, Jake will be able to learn to maneuver better in his wheelchair so that he can have a little more independence while simultaneously saving my aching back.
One other piece of news is that Jake's oncologist is leaving for a position at Vanderbilt in two months. We like him a lot so this was sad news for us. We are thankful that he is his doctor for the majority if his treatment and we know there are wonderful doctors who will take over for him.
It's a scatterbrained post like usual! Thanks for all of the well wishes, thoughts, and prayers for our whole family and for following our journey.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
The cast is off...now what?
Kait: I have been worrying about Jake's follow up appointment with the surgeon, Dr. Fletcher off and on for weeks. It's been in the back of my head and pops up here and there, like when Jake asks if he can play soccer. I am looking forward to him playing but more importantly I want him to walk. I realize I am complaining, but Jake is almost four and he's getting heavy. We have to carry him to and from the bathroom, to the table, to get dressed, basically anywhere he needs to go within the house. Maybe I'm just getting weaker. He has his little wheelchair which was designed by someone with a sense of humor. The handles for us to push are as short as the chair...back breaker! We get him to practice wheeling himself but he gets tired easily and from what I hear its not an easy thing to do.
Eleven weeks have gone by since surgery. What should we expect for the next eleven? We arrived at Jakes's appointment and first thing was to remove the cast. He started screaming and yelling "no, don't do it!" I asked if he was worried that they would cut his skin and he said yes. We explained, once again, that the saw cannot cut his skin and from then on he just watched. He cried (in pain, confusion, discomfort?) once the cast came off and refused to set his leg down on the table.
We were sent back to the waiting room to wait for x-rays next. Jake cried for Randy to carry him while holding his foot or leg in the air. I guess after having it in some sort of cast for so long it feels very strange to have it breathe. He completed the X-ray and then we waited for the surgeon to come discuss them with us. The X-rays look very similar to the ones from the day of the surgery. His two plates and fifteen screws are still in place and exactly how they were put in that day. Dr. Fletcher is concerned with two things at this point: that the plates and screws are not bent and that his growth plates are not closed. If his growth plates close for some reason then his leg would stop growing and would be cause for further surgery and decisions down the road. Thank God that both of these things are exactly how the Dr wants them to be! From the X-ray is doesn't appear that his bone is fusing with donor bone yet, which is to be expected. This type of surgery takes a very long time to heal, especially since the size of the bone they removed was so large. I was hoping that Jake would be allowed to start weight bearing sooner than the original projection of November, but after this visit no such luck. We go back in three months for more X-rays and hopefully then we'll see some progress. Jake is to begin gentle physical therapy twice a week for eight weeks. He is allowed to take off the boot to bathe and swim, but otherwise it should be on. There is a possibility of his Achilles tendon tightening up too much without help of the boot and PT. We were told that sometimes surgery is needed to fix the problem but not to worry about that because it is a minor surgery in comparison to what he's been through already.
We waited for Jake to be fitted with his boot and then we were headed home. He is very happy with his boot that looks GIANT on his tiny leg :) I feel like I did after his surgery...worried about hurting him or carrying him wrong. I assume that in a few days I'll feel more comfortable. Until then I'll keep faking it. Show no fear!
Eleven weeks have gone by since surgery. What should we expect for the next eleven? We arrived at Jakes's appointment and first thing was to remove the cast. He started screaming and yelling "no, don't do it!" I asked if he was worried that they would cut his skin and he said yes. We explained, once again, that the saw cannot cut his skin and from then on he just watched. He cried (in pain, confusion, discomfort?) once the cast came off and refused to set his leg down on the table.
We were sent back to the waiting room to wait for x-rays next. Jake cried for Randy to carry him while holding his foot or leg in the air. I guess after having it in some sort of cast for so long it feels very strange to have it breathe. He completed the X-ray and then we waited for the surgeon to come discuss them with us. The X-rays look very similar to the ones from the day of the surgery. His two plates and fifteen screws are still in place and exactly how they were put in that day. Dr. Fletcher is concerned with two things at this point: that the plates and screws are not bent and that his growth plates are not closed. If his growth plates close for some reason then his leg would stop growing and would be cause for further surgery and decisions down the road. Thank God that both of these things are exactly how the Dr wants them to be! From the X-ray is doesn't appear that his bone is fusing with donor bone yet, which is to be expected. This type of surgery takes a very long time to heal, especially since the size of the bone they removed was so large. I was hoping that Jake would be allowed to start weight bearing sooner than the original projection of November, but after this visit no such luck. We go back in three months for more X-rays and hopefully then we'll see some progress. Jake is to begin gentle physical therapy twice a week for eight weeks. He is allowed to take off the boot to bathe and swim, but otherwise it should be on. There is a possibility of his Achilles tendon tightening up too much without help of the boot and PT. We were told that sometimes surgery is needed to fix the problem but not to worry about that because it is a minor surgery in comparison to what he's been through already.
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| His skin is very thick and peely, but the incision looks good |
Jake is our superman. He goes through so much and still keeps smiling. We are so lucky to have our three wonderful children, and that through undesirable circumstances we are able to share them with the world. We will make it through this and we'll be closer and stronger because of it.
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| ©K&C Photography |
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Graduation...and one more hurdle
Today was a great day for Jake as he got to graduate from preschool at Monroe High School as part of the Little Learners program. From day one he has loved going and meeting new friends, and the students that teach have been absolutely fantastic. We learned tonight just how bright our future is with these high school students that plan on being educators, they are truly special for all that they do. The entire program is lead by Lisa Sizemore, who we could fill the blog with adjectives describing how wonderful she has been to our son and our family from the very beginning. The entire program has gone out of its way to accommodate Jake's condition and have been so supportive in including him in every activity possible.
Tonight he received his diploma after a very cool presentation full of music and a video recapping the year with the Little Learners. It would be nice to say it was all smiles, but there were some emotional parts when we saw Jake's pictures from early in the school year. He was so innocent and healthy, having no clue of the monster that lurked in the shadows. It was also an emotional moment when he got his diploma. One of his favorite students Zach pushed him across the stage to a great round of applause from the audience. Anyways it was a great night full of laughs, playing, food, and getting to be around the kids that have been so kind to our little man this year. Mrs. Sizemore has a great group of students and we are so thankful Jake was able to be a part of the program.
Tomorrow is really the last real unknown or hurdle we will face before the final chapter. We will meet with the talented Dr. Fletcher to determine how well Jake's leg has healed and if he is ready to start with some light physical therapy and have his cast taken off. We hope that everything is healing well, as Jake has said little to nothing since the first two weeks after the surgery. Hopefully the news is good and we can take one more step towards our little fighter going back to being a little boy again.
After the results tomorrow night we'll post another update and let everyone know what Jake's next steps are.
Tonight he received his diploma after a very cool presentation full of music and a video recapping the year with the Little Learners. It would be nice to say it was all smiles, but there were some emotional parts when we saw Jake's pictures from early in the school year. He was so innocent and healthy, having no clue of the monster that lurked in the shadows. It was also an emotional moment when he got his diploma. One of his favorite students Zach pushed him across the stage to a great round of applause from the audience. Anyways it was a great night full of laughs, playing, food, and getting to be around the kids that have been so kind to our little man this year. Mrs. Sizemore has a great group of students and we are so thankful Jake was able to be a part of the program.
Tomorrow is really the last real unknown or hurdle we will face before the final chapter. We will meet with the talented Dr. Fletcher to determine how well Jake's leg has healed and if he is ready to start with some light physical therapy and have his cast taken off. We hope that everything is healing well, as Jake has said little to nothing since the first two weeks after the surgery. Hopefully the news is good and we can take one more step towards our little fighter going back to being a little boy again.
After the results tomorrow night we'll post another update and let everyone know what Jake's next steps are.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
The Gorilla in the Room
Randy: There haven't been that many posts from us the past few weeks, and there are a couple of reasons for that. I guess both of us feel like we haven't had much new happening and so we assume the other has something to blog about. Anyways here we are, 2 days home from treatment number 10. We're past the halfway point....time flies when you're having fun....RIGHT?...(crickets). I have come to grips with what brought some of the anger and emotion in the last blog out. You see since this all started in October we have had a constant barrage of dates and deadlines to look forward to. Since November 5th when Jake was diagnosed there has been a gorilla in the room that we were distracted from, which is his mortality, and our future as a family. We didn't realize it but we are at the point in the treatment plan when we start to wait. I mean there are plenty of chemo treatments left, but those are things we've dealt with, old news. The next new and excited chapter in this story is the ending. We find out next that either Jake beats this and goes on to live a normal life or......the other ending. That has been a tough reality to face, and to put it in other terms is the gorilla just stood up and introduced himself. We realize this has led to a lot of tension internally, and it has spilled into our relationships with each other, our friends, and anyone else close to us over the past few weeks.
Kait had been taking Jake to all of his 2 day treatments because I have school on Thursdays and work both nights, but this time I offered to take him and close the shop because Ethan had an art show at school. I have been to Egleston many times, and it has a weird "home" feeling now, but I hadn't been with him during a clinic admission yet, so this was new territory for me. It started simple enough but quickly went downhill as he pooped his pants just after getting into a clinic room. Now I need to say that Jake is completely potty trained, but since his nasty mucositis he is very scared to poop, so he holds it......for more than a week at a time. This is important because when "it" happens....IT HAPPENS. I had to take him to the lobby bathroom and it was down his legs, so his pants had to be cut off (can't get cast wet), all over his wheelchair. I finally got him back into the room with some shorts on and we waited. About 10 minutes later he informs me that he needs to pee, so I carry him to the triage station bathroom....
and the day got much worse...
As I picked him up I didn't realize that his tube was caught under the base of his IV pole and it pulled it out.....completely. Fluids were already running so it bled like a head wound. It was down his legs, on his sock, all over me, and the only thing I could do was pull the emergency help tether on the wall. About 6 nurses came to help and get the access needle completely removed. I took him back to the room and he calmed down after a while. Of course then he had to have his port accessed again so he had to deal with that a second time (his least favorite part of the hospital). This has happened two other times, once by each of us, but this was apparently the worst because every time I went to pick him up or move him the rest of the day or Friday he would whimper and say "Please don't hurt me daddy".....ouch.
Anyways the rest of the stay was pretty uneventful, as Jake met some new friends in the playroom and I met some more parents to share stories with. When in the room he watched Team Umizoomi and Toy Story 3. This was a lighter chemo load as the "red devil" (doxorubicin) was not on the schedule this time so we were discharged by lunchtime on Friday. Jake takes everything in stride and smiles no matter what. This quote seems fitting for his predisposition to everything:
Saturday, May 4, 2013
A piece written for Jonathan Agin, CKN Editor
Fundraising and Advocacy
Randy:
Before November 5th, 2012 childhood cancer wasn’t on my radar, or anywhere close to the front of my mind. That morning it all changed when our son was diagnosed with Ewing’s Sarcoma. We went through all of the normal (if there is such a thing) thoughts and feelings that anyone else would in that situation. They were all present; from denial to acceptance, grief to feeling numb, and helplessness to anger. As we started to settle down it was natural to do some reading. Now I want to be clear that we tried to avoid reading about survival rates and prognosis, more about the community in general. The internet is a dangerous place where you can read not only anything you want to see, but anything you DON’T want to see as well.
We started to learn about the world of childhood cancer, and its extreme lack of funding. We realized that our government will spend more annually on aid to Bangladesh than on all childhood cancers combined here at home. Learning how archaic the treatments are, and that the real advances come in administering existing medications more effectively, rarely in new drugs being introduced. Some childhood cancers have little to no treatment at all, and some have absolutely zero drugs that have been developed for them, just some others that seem to work a little. These things left us with a burning question:
“What can we do to change this?”
Anytime you tackle awareness on an issue you need an audience. If you don’t have an audience that is somehow tied to your cause the attention will be minimal. If you have a child diagnosed with cancer, your audience is your friends, coworkers, relatives, church members, bowling league, customers, and anyone else you contact on a regular basis, and if they know you, they are captive. Now I’m not saying you should grab every person you know and tell them to donate money to a cause (you would find yourself with fewer friends), what I am saying is that if you choose to walk this path, you can make an impact by just telling your story.
Advocacy is simply defined as public support or recommendation of a cause or policy (credit: dictionary.com). By simply telling your story and putting them in contact with people that can make a difference, you are advocating. Everyone’s level of involvement will be different. I personally found it my battle cry and have tried to make a difference whenever possible. I have used it as an outlet for my frustration with the situation, and every dollar I raise helps me feel that we are one more tick closer to ending this fight. Other people are less comfortable and just dealing with their child’s sickness can be enough to keep their plate more than full, and there is NOTHING wrong with that. You have to choose the level of involvement that suits your lifestyle and comfort level. The last thing you want to do when dealing with the Super Bowl of family crisis is to add more to your plate than you can handle. If you do choose to pick up a sword and join the fight, the best weapon you have is your honesty and your story. I think people too often think about cute bald kids that are happy and smiling when they think of childhood cancers. They don’t know the horrors that those of us that have lived it have seen the REAL world of childhood cancer. By telling your story through social media and being open with people that ask, you can be the voice that raises awareness.
I can’t stress enough though that this has to be what is best for you and more importantly, your family, and everyone has to be on board. My wife was a little slower to pick up a sword and join the fight, and at no point did I ever think less of her or think she was doing anything wrong. Everyone will deal with an emotional trauma like this in different ways, and most of those ways are totally acceptable. There is a great network of parents out there that can help, don’t be afraid to ask. If you’re new to this, we have stood in your spot and felt how you feel. We are taught as adults to be autonomous and handle things internally (especially men), but this is a road that you almost can’t walk alone. Don’t be afraid to ask for advice, and if you’re up to it, pick up a sword and join the fight.
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