Everyone in our house started the day excited: first day of second grade for Henry! We had delivered his supplies to his room on Tuesday night at the annual back-to-school ice cream social. He met his teacher. We visited his classroom. He slung on his new big-kid backpack (sleek black and red with NO cartoons), grabbed his Super Mario lunch pail, and walked to school with Dad with a spring in his size-1 step. I couldn't wait to see pictures, since I had to zip off to work early.
Then I arrived to work to learn simply horrible news. A former coworker's 2ish-year-old daughter, Lucy, has been diagnosed with a massive malignant brain tumor. She went in at 7 a.m. today for a 12-hour surgery to remove as much as they can of the tumor. Once recovered from surgery, she will undergo chemo treatments.
I don't know much more than that, except that I haven't been able to think of anything else since. I cannot begin to imagine what they must be going through or what they will continue to face in the days and weeks ahead.
Henry went to summer camp with Lucy's brother. The two were best buddies, playing games and making paper airplanes and living the carefree life of 7-year-olds. I just saw her a few weeks ago, cherubic and innocent and looking as healthy as can be.
How life can change in a moment. Certainly puts things in perspective. And of course, I've been muttering "it's not fair" and "why why why...to a beautiful, innocent toddler." Makes no sense. Makes me angry.
Thinking. Praying. Hoping.
In the meantime, if you're interested in donating to or finding more about pediatric oncology patients at the University of Iowa, click here.
UPDATE: Later in the morning, a manager in our office building had a heart attack at work and died. Everyone's reeling.
Then I arrived to work to learn simply horrible news. A former coworker's 2ish-year-old daughter, Lucy, has been diagnosed with a massive malignant brain tumor. She went in at 7 a.m. today for a 12-hour surgery to remove as much as they can of the tumor. Once recovered from surgery, she will undergo chemo treatments.
I don't know much more than that, except that I haven't been able to think of anything else since. I cannot begin to imagine what they must be going through or what they will continue to face in the days and weeks ahead.
Henry went to summer camp with Lucy's brother. The two were best buddies, playing games and making paper airplanes and living the carefree life of 7-year-olds. I just saw her a few weeks ago, cherubic and innocent and looking as healthy as can be.
How life can change in a moment. Certainly puts things in perspective. And of course, I've been muttering "it's not fair" and "why why why...to a beautiful, innocent toddler." Makes no sense. Makes me angry.
Thinking. Praying. Hoping.
In the meantime, if you're interested in donating to or finding more about pediatric oncology patients at the University of Iowa, click here.
UPDATE: Later in the morning, a manager in our office building had a heart attack at work and died. Everyone's reeling.
Comments
Sad about the person in your office who had the heart attack.
Life can so short and so interrupted.