Brandon complained of a stomachache one day during naptime. Now, this kid was a real trooper. He never complained about anything, even when he was really hurt, so when he got up twice to tell me his stomach was hurting, I became concerned. I called his Mom and said "Come and get him and take him to the doctor. No, he doesn't have a fever. No, he hasn't thrown up. Come and get him anway." She listened to me and in a half an hour, Brandon was off to the doctor. Little did I realize how incredibly long it would be before I saw him come through my classroom door again.
Brandon's Mom called me the next day. "He has cancer," she cried on the phone, "he has a tumor the size of a grapefruit on his liver." Then, I was crying too. Surgery was scheduled for the next day and we waited to hear from his family all day long. Finally, the call came in. He had made it through surgery just fine, but the surgeon was not able to get the whole tumor. To do so would have meant taking the whole liver, and you just can't do that. So, the decision was made to begin chemotherapy and when his liver regenerated in a few months, another surgery would be performed to get the rest of the tumor.
Brandon was so sick from the chemo and he couldn't even visit with us because of the risk of infection. His Mom or Dad brought daily updates when they came to the center to pick up his younger brother. Finally, after months of waiting, Brandon was healthy enough that he could come and visit. He came down the hall to our classroom and stuck his beautiful bald head through the door and yelled for his best friends. What a sight he was. He had lost every hair on his body, even his eyelashes! He was still not allowed in the room, other than to stick his head in, so I sent his two best buddies out to play with him in the large gross motor area just outside our classroom door.
When it was time for Brandon to leave, I pretended to chase him, claiming that I could not bear for him to go. He ran laughing from me but only went a few yards before he was too tired to run anymore. I scooped him and carried him the rest of the way to the car.
And so began a weekly ritual, Brandon would visit; play with his best buddies in the gross motor area and then run from me until he was too tired to run anymore. I'd carry him the rest of the way. Each week, he was able to run a little further and a little further. I knew he was going to be okay the day that he ran all the way to the car!
The date for Brandon's second surgery arrived and we waited again with bated breath and prayerful hearts for news. The call came sooner, so much sooner, than we expected. He was out of surgery after only an hour and a half, his tearful Mom informed me on the phone. When they first heard the news that the surgery went so quickly, his family was terrified. What had gone wrong? How much longer would their oldest son live? Then, the surgeon arrived with the news. The tumor was gone! The surgeon couldn't find it anywhere. "I even lifted his liver up," the surgeon told his joyful famly, "and looked under it." As if the tumor might have been playing some strange game of hide and seek.
Another round of chemo "just to be sure" and Brandon was later declared "cancer-free". Nine years later, he is still cancer free. Way to go, Brandon, way to go!
Brandon's Mom called me the next day. "He has cancer," she cried on the phone, "he has a tumor the size of a grapefruit on his liver." Then, I was crying too. Surgery was scheduled for the next day and we waited to hear from his family all day long. Finally, the call came in. He had made it through surgery just fine, but the surgeon was not able to get the whole tumor. To do so would have meant taking the whole liver, and you just can't do that. So, the decision was made to begin chemotherapy and when his liver regenerated in a few months, another surgery would be performed to get the rest of the tumor.
Brandon was so sick from the chemo and he couldn't even visit with us because of the risk of infection. His Mom or Dad brought daily updates when they came to the center to pick up his younger brother. Finally, after months of waiting, Brandon was healthy enough that he could come and visit. He came down the hall to our classroom and stuck his beautiful bald head through the door and yelled for his best friends. What a sight he was. He had lost every hair on his body, even his eyelashes! He was still not allowed in the room, other than to stick his head in, so I sent his two best buddies out to play with him in the large gross motor area just outside our classroom door.
When it was time for Brandon to leave, I pretended to chase him, claiming that I could not bear for him to go. He ran laughing from me but only went a few yards before he was too tired to run anymore. I scooped him and carried him the rest of the way to the car.
And so began a weekly ritual, Brandon would visit; play with his best buddies in the gross motor area and then run from me until he was too tired to run anymore. I'd carry him the rest of the way. Each week, he was able to run a little further and a little further. I knew he was going to be okay the day that he ran all the way to the car!
The date for Brandon's second surgery arrived and we waited again with bated breath and prayerful hearts for news. The call came sooner, so much sooner, than we expected. He was out of surgery after only an hour and a half, his tearful Mom informed me on the phone. When they first heard the news that the surgery went so quickly, his family was terrified. What had gone wrong? How much longer would their oldest son live? Then, the surgeon arrived with the news. The tumor was gone! The surgeon couldn't find it anywhere. "I even lifted his liver up," the surgeon told his joyful famly, "and looked under it." As if the tumor might have been playing some strange game of hide and seek.
Another round of chemo "just to be sure" and Brandon was later declared "cancer-free". Nine years later, he is still cancer free. Way to go, Brandon, way to go!
