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A few weeks ago, Daniel Morgan rang the bell to signify the end of his cancer treatment. He doesn’t like to be the center of attention and actually didn’t want to have the bell ringing. But his family knew this was a milestone to be remembered, so they convinced him to do it.

It’s been a long journey for Daniel – two years, four months, and two days to be exact. It started with a swollen lymph node on his neck and a fever. Because it was a weekend, his mother, Felicia, took him to an urgent care clinic, where the nurse thought it was a dental issue. He got steroids that suppressed his symptoms for a few weeks, but they came roaring back when the medicine wore off.

He finally went to the pediatrician, where bloodwork reviewed a high white blood cell count. Further testing on June 1, 2022, revealed that Daniel had leukemia. It was the first day of summer after his sophomore year of what turned out to be a very odd high school experience.

“Daniel’s freshman year and part of his sophomore year were from home because of COVID,” Felicia said. “He could only do partial days during his junior year because of treatment and finally got to go back to school full time for his senior year. He was very ready to get back to his friends and routine.”

“He didn’t really share what he was going through,” Felicia said. “He didn’t want to be treated differently or have people feel sorry for him. When he lost his hair, it was winter, so he was able to wear his beanie to school.”

Treatment was very hard on Daniel. He was often sick and had an allergic reaction to one of the chemotherapies. Because of this reaction, he was forced to have a very painful injection in his leg. He would have to psych himself up in the morning, knowing that he was going to get the shot that hurt badly.

Despite the interruptions and difficulty of treatment, Daniel graduated from John’s Creek High School with honors last spring. He is studying computer science at Kennesaw State University. He loves creating websites and programming.

“Our family feels compelled to give back to others fighting childhood cancer now that we’re done,” said Felicia. “Daniel has done surveys about the stress of treatment and described how he handled it. We’ve been proud of his responses. His thoughtful answers showed a great deal of maturity.”

CURE has been a support for the Morgans since day one. Felicia raves about the binder notebook that is in the Tote Bag we provided at diagnosis.

“I still have my binder and continue to keep records in it,” she said. “The Open Arms meals meant a lot. They allowed us to put all of our focus on getting Daniel well. It’s been a long road, but it is great to see Daniel happy, healthy, and loving life.”

When Levi was diagnosed with leukemia in 2022, his mother, Hannah, began to share the roller coaster ride that is a childhood cancer diagnosis. Her writing style is compelling because of its authenticity and truthfulness, and she finds it helpful to release some of the emotions through words.

Levi had a very rough first year of treatment. He was sick most of the time, suffered from neuropathy, and one of his medications gave him seizures. His treatment will last for three and a half years and should be complete in August 2025.

Here is a brief look into his journey through his mother’s heart. Hannah is mindful to celebrate milestones, including his kindergarten graduation:

I’m so proud of him.
All parents are proud of their kids.
But with him, there’s a deep, immeasurable amount of beaming pride.
He’s fought and is still fighting for his life.
He’s closed huge gaps in his “academics.”
He’s covered and conquered pre-k and kindergarten skills in a year.
He’s pushed himself even though not feeling good.
He’s never, ever once quit.
He’s so strong. And he’s one of the best people I know. Being his mama is my greatest pride.

A few weeks later she shared a glimpse into her own feelings that many parents can relate to:

I’m tired. Deep in my bones, deliriously tired from this journey. I’m tired of watching my child suffer with indescribable pain and nothing that helps him. I’m so tired of fighting to get him help. I’m tired of this being our life. I’m so tired of very, very few people understanding. I don’t know how I can do this for another year. But as he continues to fight, we will stand by him each step of the way.

Then she shared a glimpse of what is in Levi’s heart and mind on a visit to celebrate the end of treatment for a friend:

We walked into the hospital and Levi began having what I can only explain as a panic attack. He clung to me and wouldn’t let go. He was terrified to go back to the 5th floor where he was diagnosed. He kept saying, “Mama, don’t you remember how bad it is there? It’s my worst nightmare. Mama I already lived my worst nightmare.”

After leaving the hospital, he asked, “Mama, what if my cancer comes back?”

A day that was so exciting was also so heavy. I don’t have the answers to his question. I can’t tell him the cancer won’t come back. I can’t tell him everyone will be okay. It’s heartbreaking, and it’s not fair.

In dealing with all of the emotions inherent in this world of childhood cancer, Hannah found herself angry, which isn’t typical for her. CURE helped to connect her to a therapist who listened to her concerns and helped her understand that it is okay to feel angry, as long as she doesn’t park herself there.

“CURE’s Counseling Program has been a huge blessing for me,” Hannah said. “Because Levi became stoic and didn’t want to tell us when he was in pain, he began seeing a counselor also and learned that he doesn’t have to wait until the pain is at a high level before telling us.”

Levi is in the homestretch of his treatment now. He’s smiling more and loves to go swimming whenever he can. His strength and perseverance make an impression on anyone lucky enough to meet him or read his mother’s writing.

 

Ross and Heather Strunk already had a full house with their three daughters. But they wanted to try for a son and were soon surprised to find out they were going to have two. They welcomed twin boys, Charles and Edward, on November 1, 2022. Life got quite a bit more hectic… and noisy.

“I like to say that our house is loud but full of love,” said Heather. “Someone is constantly moving around, and it is a very rare moment when we are all still.”

They had no way of knowing that life was about to get much busier. When Charles was three months old, Heather noticed a bump near his ear while sitting in church. She thought it might be a mosquito bite. But she realized it was causing pain when she touched it. The next morning, it was larger and purple.

She bundled Charles to the emergency room, where he was treated for an ear infection. But even after taking a course of antibiotics, it continued to grow. Her pediatrician thought it might be a clogged lymph node or ingrown hair.

“My mother’s intuition was telling me it was something different,” recalled Heather. “It continued to grow and grow until it began to change the shape of his face. When his eye was swollen shut, I knew we had to get to someone who could figure this out.”

Heather took Charles to the emergency room again and refused to leave until they had a diagnosis. After a biopsy, they were told that Charles had Langerhans cell histiocytosis (LCH), an incredibly rare, cancer-like condition. It happens when a person’s body makes too many immature Langerhans cells that build up and can form tumors or damage tissue, bone, and organs.

“My world just dropped with those three letters,” Heather said. “I was absolutely crushed.”

A few days later, he had his port placed and began chemotherapy.

“He was diagnosed at night and didn’t get to the oncology floor until 3 am,” Heather shared. “My husband and I didn’t sleep and had no clue what we were doing. That day, CURE was serving lunch in the family room, but we were both too emotional and exhausted to get it. Emily from CURE knocked on my door and asked if I wanted a sandwich. I immediately burst into tears! She hugged me and asked if I wanted turkey or ham. I couldn’t stop crying to answer. So I held up two fingers, and she got me a ham sandwich. I needed to know I wasn’t alone – and that moment told me that I wasn’t.”

Charles’ treatment lasted eleven months, and he has reacted fairly well to the steroids and chemo. He was delayed in walking and was given a prescription for physical therapy to help. He never needed it because he started walking the very next day and hasn’t slowed down.

Charles’ latest scans indicate that the chemo is working, and there has been no tumor growth. With nothing to slow him down, he spends as much time as possible outside and loves to play with trucks. He also loves to cuddle his mother. And while she leads a busy life with all her kids, Heather knows just how special those cuddles are and will stop anything to take them.

 

The name Kelson paid tribute to two Loveland family members, Nelson and Kelly. When his parents named him, they had no way of knowing how fitting his name would be. They soon learned there was a very similar nautical word, keelson, a structure added to a ship to strengthen its framework. As Kelson got older, everyone who knew him marveled at his added strength.

Kelson faced significant health challenges from the day he was born. He began having seizures at four weeks old, which forced him to spend twelve weeks in neonatal intensive care. At six months old, he was diagnosed with a form of epilepsy. That was followed by scoliosis, neuropathy, hydrocephalus, and a host of other medical complications. Poor Kelson couldn’t get a break.

Despite all of the bad medical news, Kelson had a smile that could light up the world and taught himself how to communicate by clapping. He started to improve when he was six years old. But soon, he faced his biggest challenge, a brain tumor called a pilocytic astrocytoma. Despite treatment, the tumor continued to grow. As his health deteriorated, his family was forced to stop treatment in 2019. Kelson passed away on May 5, 2020, surrounded by his loving family. Before he passed, his family made a promise to him – to honor his life in every way they were able and to live their lives in a way that would make him proud. Throughout his (almost) nine years, Kelson’s life was deeply enriched by compassion and kindness their family will never forget.
There are three ways his family honors Kelson’s life.

Kelson’s Curtains
When Kelson began treatment on the Aflac floor at CHOA, Kelson’s mom, Becky, explained that the windows to the hallway were very large and let in a lot of light, making it hard to sleep. Says Becky, “At first, I tried taping up a medical pad with an entire roll of paper tape, which fell down as soon as I fell asleep.” Now, the Loveland family and a team of volunteers make them out of bright, cheerful flannel and deliver Kelson’s Curtains to other families fighting cancer.

Seven Days of Kelson’s Kindness
“For the seven days leading up to his birthday, we host a kindness campaign and encourage others to spread kindness in Kelson’s memory,” Becky explained. “Kelson’s sister came up with the idea when we were trying to decide how to celebrate his first birthday without him, and it has been the perfect way to honor him.”

Bub’s Run
“I’ve been a runner all my life, so it was an easy decision to host a 5k to honor Kelson’s memory,” Becky said. “The first Bub’s Run was held in our neighborhood on May 8, 2021, which was a year after Kelson’s passing. We just sent notes to family and friends, expecting a small group to show up, but nearly 80 people did and we raised $8000 for MUST Ministries. Since then, Bub’s Run has grown each year and raised nearly $100,000 in three years for various organizations that impacted Kelson’s life.

 

CURE is the beneficiary of Bub’s Run this year. To learn more about Kelson and his “Added Strength,” join Kelson’s family on Saturday, May 4, at North Cobb Christian School in Kennesaw. For more information and to sign up, visit https://www.adventuresignup.com/Race/GA/Kennesaw/BubsRun.