My oldest twin son, Jeremy was two days shy of turning 2 years old when he was diagnosed with Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. I sat in the pediatrician’s office numb when he told me. My sweet little boy had cancer. Those first days, weeks and months were terrifying. Days upon days in the hospital for treatments, medicines that were supposed to make him sleep while undergoing painful tests didn’t work, the pain of being separated from my son Brandon, meeting so many other children with various forms of cancer in different parts of their tiny bodies.
The jubilation when we heard the words remission, the brutal agony when those words were later replaced by relapse. The only cure a bone marrow transplant and the blessing of a match with his fraternal twin brother and being told on my birthday – the best present ever.
Thank God that Brandon had the “good guys” to help Jeremy beat the “bad guys.”
Today, we are celebrating 19 years post-transplant and yes, I believe in miracles.