Weighing in at 9 pounds, 10 ounces, Chrisean was big from the start. He had so many rolls that his family called him the “marshmallow baby.” As a child, he enjoyed dressing up in a suit and tie, especially to go to church. At the age of 13, he stood an imposing six feet tall and weighed 250 pounds. When he stopped eating, his mother, Machelle, knew something was wrong.
“He was complaining about body aches and pain everywhere,” Machelle said. “We went to the doctor several times and came home with different pain medicines. But no one could tell us what was wrong.”

“When the doctor told us, I was confident that he would be alright,” Machelle said. “He had a game plan and said it was very treatable.”
During his hospital stays, Chrisean questioned everything. He researched every chemo he was to be given and asked questions of doctors, nurses, and anyone who provided care. A little more than a year into his three-year treatment, Chrisean developed a cough that turned into a fever. His breathing got progressively worse until his medical team decided he needed to be on a respirator. Things descended rapidly from that point. With his immune system depleted because of chemotherapy, Chrisean’s body was unable to fight off a virus.
“Chrisean called everyone in the family and asked them to come to the hospital,” Machelle said. “I think he understood that he was at the end. He got to say goodbye and tell us all he loved us before he passed.”
Chrisean passed on August 25, 2020.
“We met CURE in the hospital with meals, and CURE supported our family at Christmas,” Machelle shared. “But I didn’t know CURE would still be here for us after Chrisean died.”
Machelle has attended CURE’s Hope and Healing bereavement retreats and regularly enjoys gatherings with other bereaved mothers, as well as CURE’s Quiet Heroes luncheon.
“I just want to thank you. Hope and Healing has been a saving grace for me,” she said. “A lot of times, I didn’t want to exist in this world without my baby, and most people don’t know what it is like to lose a piece of your heart. It was a breath of fresh air being around other people who know this pain. I still need help and support, but I can help moms who are new to grief.”

My first impression when I heard about it was to not go. That sounds weird but I felt nervous. I didn’t know what to expect. I felt so alone, and I thought by going and being around that many people, I’d feel even more alone. My husband urged me to go. I was timid when I parked and walked in. I felt overwhelmed. As soon as I put my name tag on, I felt like I was somebody. Not just someone who was hurting inside secretly, but like someone who everyone else with a nametag could relate to. I quickly made friends and saw other moms I had seen in the hospital hallways.
Additionally, events that usually bring the childhood cancer community together have been canceled or held virtually. The Thomas family participated in 2021’s virtual Lauren’s Run and had a great time walking a 2k on the Silver Comet Trail (even after Zoe fell asleep.) This year, they are very much looking forward to the in-person Lauren’s Run & Picnic.

CURE vice-president Mandy Garola started the Savannah Catie’s Gathering nine years ago. There are so many reasons it continues to grow – not the least of which are the sponsors, committee members, volunteers, staff, hostesses, vendors, donors, and guests.



The x-ray revealed a mass in Hannah’s chest near her trachea. She was admitted to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit because the doctors worried the tumor might shift and cut off her airway. After a biopsy she was moved to the pediatric oncology floor where Hannah was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma.

“Joseph was my only sibling, and we were very close,” said his sister, Rachel. “During his cancer journey, he taught me to be grateful for life’s little things. He had such a kind spirit and loved to encourage others because of the unique perspective cancer gave him.”




