Four were spoken that day. Four crushing, breathtaking words, “Your son has cancer.” My world, my life, and my dreams for my son’s future suddenly halted while the rest of the world kept going on around us on May 14, 2011. Only days before, I was deciding what theme to have for his third birthday party and what outfit he would wear for his pictures.
In April 2023, I went to the doctor for an MRI for what I thought was a torn meniscus in my left knee. Unfortunately, that MRI showed that there was a growth on my left femur. After two full months of testing, surgery, and some more testing, I was officially diagnosed with primary lymphoma of the bone (PLB).
The news came that I had been dreading after three days of being hospitalized. Finally, they would tell me my diagnosis. Why my blood counts were critically low. Why the pain in my right leg was excruciating. Why morphine didn’t touch that pain. Since arriving at the hospital, my inner dialogue was on repeat, “What’s wrong with me?
Leukemia, as many of you know, is a cancer. It damages your body to the point where you are so comfortable with death and dying that it becomes an afterthought because in your mind you’ve already died. You see so many of your friends pass away at such a young age that it is devastating to the point where you become extremely emotionally advanced or numb.
I was in my second to last year of nursing school and just over one year into my marriage when the headaches became too much to bear. I was 21. I was tired all of the time, but I was working in a busy ER and going to class when I wasn't at work. I had lost some weight, but I had been exercising more and getting a lot while working in the ER.
Oakley was a typical 2-year-old going to gymnastics and play dates with her friends until a week after her third birthday when she began to decline health-wise very q
