At the time, I was the full-time mother of two small daughters, Katy, three years old, and Alison, eighteen months. On the two-hour trip to the nearest children's hospital, I naively thought that my background would equip me to deal with the difficulties ahead. I had a degree in biology, and had worked my way through the university in a series of hospital jobs. After college, I was a paramedic with a busy rescue squad and for several years taught emergency medical technician courses at the local community college. I was wrong.
Nothing prepares a parent for the utter devastation of having a child diagnosed with cancer.
My brain went on strike. I couldn't hear what was being said. I felt like I was trapped in a slow-motion horror movie. I came home from Katy's first hospitalization with two shopping bags full of booklets, pamphlets, and single sheets containing information on a wide variety of topics. I didn't know how to prioritize what I needed to learn, so I started by researching everything that I could about leukemia.