
On November 15, 2010, I took my son, Danny, to the pediatrician for what I thought was a chest cold. The pediatrician agreed and treated Danny accordingly. One week later, on November 22, 2010, I rushed my son to the hospital only to get news that was far worse than I ever expected. Danny would be diagnosed with childhood cancer.
Danny`s tumor was larger than his heart and originated in his thymus. The steroid regiment he was placed on for the chest cold made it difficult for the doctor to make a diagnosis. After nine days in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU), Danny was diagnosed with T-cell lymphoblastic lymphoma. I was told that chemotherapy needed to start right away and that he would need a spinal tap with intrathecal chemotherapy to treat his central nervous system immediately. He would also need many more chemotherapeutic drugs over the next 2 ½ years.

We spent a total of 14 nights in the PICU then moved to the oncology wing of the hospital. Never leaving his room, I watched my son become so sick from the treatment. I watched my son suffer severe side effects from the very same medicine that could save his life. As I watched my son, I became sick myself – losing weight because I could not eat, not eating because I would not leave my son, not leaving my son because he is my life – I would never leave my son’s side.
We spent well over 250 nights inpatient the first year. It was tough to look at my beautiful little boy and not be able to explain to him why we needed to make him hurt in order to save his life. What I knew I needed to do was fight for my little boy. The anguish I felt for my son propelled me to learn as much as possible about what was going on. This gave me a feeling of control when I felt I had none.

We are now into Danny`s 22nd month of treatment and he is doing well. We still fight through the side effects of his chemotherapy, but the most important thing is that we still fight. I knew that my son needed me to be at my best, to make decisions, to comfort and care for him, to be as strong as he is, but also to be as tender and loving as I could be, and I put everything into being all of these things. Danny and I feel blessed for every day we have together so we make the most of our days and continue on this journey through childhood cancer, together. Childhood cancer is real and unforgiving, but we refuse to stop fighting.
Your Friend,
Danny’s Dad
Read more Childhood Cancer Awareness Month stories or get involved with a St. Baldrick’s event near you!
SBF Tweets »
