Lily is healthy. And at five years post-diagnosis, we are starting to feel pretty good that she will stay that way.
But everyday, 46 children are diagnosed with cancer. Ten of these children will be told they have a brain tumor. And on May 16, 2007, Lily was one of those kids.
Before her diagnosis, I never gave much thought to childhood cancer. After all, odds were in our favor--the odds are in every child's favorite. Childhood cancer is rare, very rare. But then it is at your doorstep and in your child's brain and suddenly it is not so rare.
When it comes to sick and dying children, odds do not matter much.
These 46 children are children you see at the playground. They are classmates with your children. They are your neighbors. They are on your son's soccer team and in your daughters Daisy Troop. They are real people. And they might be your child or nephew or niece or grandchild.
That is the insidious, sneaky thing about childhood cancer. It does not discriminate. Unlike some adult cancers, childhood cancer is not something you can prevent. Their young little bodies are perfect--until something, for some reason decides to go terribly wrong. And no one knows why.
Research is needed. Lots of research, which will cost lots of money. Children need to stop dying. Children need to stop suffering. My daughter is alive--but I will be damned if I don't do something to make sure every mother can say the same thing.
So even as the years since Lily's diagnosis grow--and Lily, my strong, gorgeous miracle, goes stronger and stronger--I won't forget. And I won't stop fighting.
Because 46 children is 46 too many.
Join our fight and donate to Lily's Lemonade Stand for Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation for Childhood Cancer. Any donation, whether $5 or $50, will fund life-saving research.
To donate online:
http://www.alexslemonade.org/mypage/80920
But everyday, 46 children are diagnosed with cancer. Ten of these children will be told they have a brain tumor. And on May 16, 2007, Lily was one of those kids.
Before her diagnosis, I never gave much thought to childhood cancer. After all, odds were in our favor--the odds are in every child's favorite. Childhood cancer is rare, very rare. But then it is at your doorstep and in your child's brain and suddenly it is not so rare.
When it comes to sick and dying children, odds do not matter much.
These 46 children are children you see at the playground. They are classmates with your children. They are your neighbors. They are on your son's soccer team and in your daughters Daisy Troop. They are real people. And they might be your child or nephew or niece or grandchild.That is the insidious, sneaky thing about childhood cancer. It does not discriminate. Unlike some adult cancers, childhood cancer is not something you can prevent. Their young little bodies are perfect--until something, for some reason decides to go terribly wrong. And no one knows why.
Research is needed. Lots of research, which will cost lots of money. Children need to stop dying. Children need to stop suffering. My daughter is alive--but I will be damned if I don't do something to make sure every mother can say the same thing.
So even as the years since Lily's diagnosis grow--and Lily, my strong, gorgeous miracle, goes stronger and stronger--I won't forget. And I won't stop fighting.
Because 46 children is 46 too many.
Join our fight and donate to Lily's Lemonade Stand for Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation for Childhood Cancer. Any donation, whether $5 or $50, will fund life-saving research.
To donate online:
http://www.alexslemonade.org/mypage/80920
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