“When you listen
generously to people they can hear the truth in themselves, often for the first
time.”
Rachel Naomi Remen
It’s been a deeply moving season here. The end of summer
brings with it memories of Katie’s passing (August 16th), my parents’
anniversary (this year they marked 60 years of marriage on August 17th),
the start of the school year (David is a junior in college, studying in Italy
for a semester; Katie should be a
senior in high school, looking at college choices and enjoying her last year at
home with friends – but she is not). It also marks the anniversary of the start
of her illness, her diagnosis, and the 10 months which were a kind of living
hell, leading to her passing. The 10th of October, the day we entered
the hospital “for tests” and didn’t come out for months; October 13th,
the day we found out that it was cancer (though not what type) and Katie’s
first round of chemotherapy began.
Gregg let me know during this time that he is not
comfortable hearing the news, in detail, of all of my involvement in the world of cancer. He can take only
so much of it. My work does not give him solace the way it does me; it
simply reminds him of what took our daughter away. When I asked him if the
advances in research, cures and awareness make him feel better, he replied, “No.” None
of it will bring Katie back, so it’s not a comfort to him. Even though it
comforts me, I need to filter some of what I ask him to participate in. Fair
enough.
Shortly after my book reading event at Eagle Harbor Books in
September, Gregg and I attended the Ben Towne Foundation’s annual BENefit. We
were “table captains,” which really means that we gathered interested family
and friends and all sat together for dinner. The Foundation makes it so easy to
“host” a table that I wouldn’t feel right calling it “hosting.” That was the
second cancer-related event in a month’s time, but Gregg loves the Townes and
wants to support the Foundation.
At the BENefit, Dr. Michael Jensen announced that his work
on relapsed leukemia has been given approval by the FDA to move into clinical
trials. That means that children here in Seattle who have no other hope than a
miracle have a chance at that miracle; they can enter a clinical trial using their own re-engineered
T-cells to fight their own cancer. It will begin sometime in the next few
weeks.
This announcement brought our table to tears. We were
sitting with my parents, brother and sister-in-law, as well as with two other
couples who are friends – both of whom have watched their own daughters die
from brain cancer. Three sets of bereaved parents heard the news together. It
was a dramatic moment, and one that has truly changed my life.
I finally feel relief.
I feel relief, for the first time since Katie died.
Since Katie died, I have felt like the parent of a murdered
child. I have felt that the murderer is “at large,” and beyond the capacity of “law-enforcement”
to catch. It hurts. I feel it’s my duty as her mother to catch her killer and
bring him to justice. I didn’t realize that so much of my work and energy has
been directed to catching this killer – but it has.
After the BENefit, several family members and friends joined
me for a tour of the Ben Towne Center for Childhood Cancer Research. At the end
of the tour, I took Dr. Jensen aside and thanked him. I told him that for the
first time since Katie’s passing, I feel as if I can relax. I know that the killer is now identified. We may not have
him on death row yet, but his whereabouts are known, and he is in the
crosshairs of the law. They are going to catch him, and stop him from killing
other children (and adults). This is Dr. Jensen’s mission, and it is now
beginning to be available to patients (not just lab mice).
On the tour, my dad asked Dr. Jensen two important questions (and I think I heard the answers correctly):
1)
How much does it cost annually to do what you
are doing?
Answer: $1.5 million
2)
How much do you need annually to be able to
conduct experiments on the cancers you want to cure next?
Answer: $15 million.
Friends, what is being spent on the next election makes this
sum look positively PALTRY. This research has the potential to cure children AND
adults. If you know anyone who can contribute to it, please invite them to
contact me or the Ben Towne Center. I will be happy to effect an introduction.
What I want most to share with you is the fact that I feel a
new freedom now. The baton is in Dr. Jensen’s hands (and those of his
colleagues, some of whom were part of Katie’s care team). I will continue to do
my best to raise awareness and financial support, but I can finally let go of
this part of my work, because it is being done by the professionals. And some of the thanks for
that goes to Carin and Jeff Towne, and the memory of their precious son, Ben.
I wasn't aware that I was holding my breath for this to
happen, but I have been…and I can rest now. Thank God that prayers are being
answered! The timing was not sufficient to save Katie’s life, but I believe
that the cure will be part of her legacy.
Thank you for reading my blogs, for commenting, for
supporting our family through this time. Though we will never be “over it,”
your listening, caring and praying has been part of our healing process. That
process continues - and finding a cure for cancer is surely a part of it.
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
.jpg)
