Posted on Thursday, 17th December 2009 by Catherine

I have on my reminiscing shoes today as I participate in the blog carnival over at Blog Nosh that benefits Tide Loads of Hope for the Holidays.  The question was “how do the holidays fill you with loads of hope?”  For me it is not only during the holidays that I am filled with hope but every single day.

At the tender age of 2 1/2 my son Mason stopped walking.  He said his leg hurt.  He was fairly persistent so after a couple of days I decided to call the doctor.  We were sent for x-rays.  Nothing showed up but he was put into a cast with the hope that immobility would heal whatever was going on.  We waited three weeks, removed the cast and still he could not walk.  He began spiking fevers, was extremely fatigued, pale and just not himself.  Thankfully I kept a journal of his doctor visits and the various treatments we tried.

I began my journey with “google university” checking into all of his symptoms.  I had a horrible sick feeling in my gut telling me something was very wrong with him.  At times he would have a moment of normalcy and my fears would subside briefly.  After 6 excruciating weeks of this he started to complain of his other leg hurting.  My husband and I decided to take him directly to the local Children’s Hospital ER.  On the very short drive to the ER I recall saying that we were pretty much guaranteed to find out good or bad what was going on with him.

Seven hours, one IV, an ambulance ride and a ton of anxiety later we received the news that would forever change us.  Our son has cancer. Leukemia, which is cancer of the blood.  It was 4 am and they had paged the on-call oncologist.  I could barely utter the word oncologist much less wrap my head around being admitted to the oncology floor at Children’s Hospital. Somehow we found strength to ask tough questions, hear things we did not want to hear about the side effects of treatment and stand by his side as his advocates and cheerleaders.  Looking back on that day it was one of the scariest days of my life.

Nothing can prepare you for a moment like that. Mason existed as a frail, sick and exhausted 2 year old.    My heart broke watching him lay in the hospital bed that was way too big.  He was just a toddler yet  he was facing 3 years and 3  months of chemotherapy treatment. At that moment we had to invest all we could in hope.  Strangely relief set in. We now knew what was wrong with him and could begin to heal him.

When you are a parent of a child with cancer or any other life threatening illness hope becomes one of you sole sources of strength.  There is no other option than to be hopeful for your child to overcome and heal.  Our hope and vision for Mason is that he will be a cancer survivor and grow up to do amazing things.

Every treatment he receives confirms our hope for his cure. Each blood draw that shows no leukemia gives us more hope.  The holiday season is particularly difficult for us because on December 26, 2007 Mason had Leukemia cells show up in his spinal fluid.  It was a routine clinic visit that ended in heartbreak.  We did not give up hope even with this news of relapse.  He was facing an additional 104 weeks of much more intense chemotherapy and cranial radiation.  We were devastated, sad, scared and overwhelmed.

Mighty Mason (as he has come to be known) fights every week (93 weeks down in the relapse therapy), endures more than most people ever will in life and does it all with a smile.  His strength gives me hope on days when I am worn out and tired.  With only 11 weeks to go the end is in sight.  The side effects of having nearly 5 years of treatment will be lifelong but such a small price to pay for us to be able to keep him alive.

We have hope, we live for hope and we share hope with others during their dark times at Children’s.  We will never give up hope.  In the end it is all we have.

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