The roasted marshmallow fun stories by the fires and games, and children biking and playing tag it was starting like a special Memorial Day weekend in 2020. Just like everyone else, we had been stuck at home for a long time. Macie stayed home with me as I worked a full-time job and took care of her.
In the middle of May, I observed a shift in Macie. She felt grumpy and had no energy; she was exhausted. I convinced myself it was a growing stage and feeling sad from being struck at home, anything except something serious. Yet, deep inside, I was hesitant to deal with a new issue. Her father, who had battled alcoholism, had fallen back into it when the pandemic started, and we were staying separate, trying to fix this thing.
We tried to maintain her life back to normal, but thing did not seem like normal. I thought the slower pace would lift her spirits, but instead, she mostly wanted to be held, and regular felt tired, and she was always in bad mood. That is when I realized something was off.
On May 27 doctors tell that Marie’s blood test showed that her white cells are attacking her own body which can be mean leukemia. I hardly caught the specifics. I was shocked and could not believe it. The doctor inquired whether she was still able to be driven to the hospital or if an airlift was necessary. In less than an hour, we hit the road, traveling 168 miles to the children’s hospital.
During COVID-19 rules and policies, only one parent was allowed to go inside to see their children. I grabbed Macie closely while we navigated the chilling, frightening corridors, tears flowing down my cheeks. I deceived her to calm her, saying we were going to the doctor for my sake, not hers. As the nurses began discussing the tests, she turned to them and said, no we came here for our mom, I really wish that I had not told those lies to her.
Macie required urgent blood transfusions and IVs, yet she was so scared, and then she screamed and fought while the nurse tried to put in the IV. We had to stop her from moving. We wept together afterward, and she said to me that no please mom you do not cry only I can, I wish I could have hold my tears for her.
The following day, she received a diagnosis of B-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. The treatment was serious: chemotherapy, hospital admissions, and uncomfortable procedures. Yet amidst it all, we found moments of happiness like birthday parties, festive decorations, and family vacations, even when they did not go as planned.
Cancer affected our whole family, not just Macie. It drained our energy, made us scared and unsure about what would happen next. It also stared a new purpose for me: to assist other families dealing with childhood cancer through standing up for others and support.
Macie’s stay strong she motivates me every day. Although the path forward is challenging, we are resolved to embrace hope and kindness rather than fear.
