Honored Hero Run: A Hero Has a Heart

"A Hero Has a Heart" is the theme of the 2015 Honored Hero Run to benefit the North Texas Chapter of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS).  The girl behind the theme, 10-year-old Katie Grace, knows firsthand that it takes heart to beat a blood cancer diagnosis.  She was diagnosed with B-cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL) while she was in fifth grade.

After diagnosis Katie's doctors laid out a plan that involved a month of chemotherapy with the goal of getting her into remission after 30 days, to be followed by 2.5 years of maintenance treatments.  When she failed to respond as doctors had anticipated, she was placed in the "very high risk" category.  This classification meant higher doses of chemo, radiation and a bone marrow transplant.  Katie's family was devastated.

One month later the news improved.  After more than a month on this physically and emotionally trying treatment plan, doctors declared Katie was in remission and she could move forward with a bone marrow transplant.  Luckily for her, a donor already on the bone marrow registry was a 100% match and she was able to have her transplant with no delay.  Katie's family is thankful for her health as she continues to grow stronger every day and her body continues to respond favorably to the bone marrow transplant.

When the Honored Hero Run Board of Directors saw her entry for the 2015 t-shirt competition, they knew they had found their winner.  Her creation (shown at the bottom of this post) will be featured on all of the participant and volunteer race shirts as well as on the official Honored Hero Run website.

The Honored Hero Run is only eight days away but there is still time to register.  The money raised from this race will be used to help improve the quality of treatment that young patients, like Katie, receive after a blood cancer diagnosis.

Honored Heroes: Big D Climb

Joshua is one of the two Honored Heroes for the 2015 Big D Climb to benefit The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS).  Joshua and Jude are brothers.  Below, Joshua introduces us to his brother in a blog post he originally posted in December 2012.  This touching story introduces you to both Josh and Jude.  Two incredible young men.

"This is my brother Jude, and it’s a miracle he’s here today.

My brother, Jude, was a sickly child, constantly being taken out of school for medical reasons — what we believed was asthma. Jude going to kindergarten was such a huge moment — the two of us would be at the same school, he’d actually be going to school, and I’d be able to see him there every day.

Seventh grade was the first year I tried to stay extremely optimistic for the future. I started writing in a journal I bought, making sure to include even the mundane details of the first days of school. As I was rereading it, something caught my eye — Jude had a stomachache one morning, and we were almost late to school.

It was August 19, 2010, Jude’s fourth day of kindergarten and my fourth day of seventh grade. He cried for so long that day about losing a game in his gym class. He screamed about how they cheated him and how unfair the game was, as we told him that “it was just a game” and that it wasn’t worth crying over.

His cheeks were bright red, which I thought was my mom’s lipstick. Later that night, we found out he had a 105 degree fever, and we brought him to the emergency room. I’ll never forget the flashing lights of the ambulance that whisked my only brother away from the emergency room to the large hospital, Children’s Medical Center, in downtown Dallas.

The next morning, my friend A-’s dad brought me to the hospital to see Jude. I kept my sunglasses on for the ride home, trying to hide the tears.

When I made it home, I started packing up my things to take with me back to my friend’s house. My journal was exactly where I left it. I opened it, turned it to the next blank page, and wrote three words.

“Jude has leukemia.”

September came and went, and I tried to readjust myself into my school routine. By October, I was used to not seeing my parents that much. I’d never really see them at the same time, except when I went to the hospital to visit.

I secretly loathed going to the hospital, and I found myself not wanting to see my brother. I would always feel guilty that I felt this way and I’d always end up going, but I just couldn’t help it. No matter how understanding of the situation I was, the feelings of anger and jealousy and guilt followed me. I couldn’t help but feel angry about my loneliness and jealous of all the time and attention Jude got, and I couldn’t help but pin all my problems on him.

I went through these periods of pain, sorrow, anger, frustration, and despair. Sometimes, I’d feel angry — angry at myself, angry at Jude, angry at my parents, angry at the world, and angry at God. Other times, I’d feel so depressed that I’d want to leave the classroom and find a place where no one would see me cry.

I felt forgotten — not just by my parents, but by everyone else. I felt like I couldn’t have a conversation with anyone without Jude being mentioned. I was angry that everyone asked how he was doing, but forgot about me. Didn’t anyone realize I was suffering too? Did everyone forget about me? The funny thing, though, is that the only person who I felt truly remembered me… was Jude.
One afternoon in late October, my mom picked me up early from school. I thought it was just one of the usual hospital visits, but there was something different. There was something about my mom’s tearstained eyes and solemn expression that made me question everything. My friend’s dad was there, too.

In the car, my mom started to cry again. My friend’s dad told me the news. Jude wasn’t responding to chemotherapy, and his cancer was getting worse. He needed a bone marrow transplant, and they needed to see if I was a match.

I didn’t know how to respond. It felt just like August 20, the day I found out about Jude’s diagnosis. I was afraid. The feelings of despair and hopelessness entered my heart again as my chest felt heavy and hard. The tears rolled down my cheeks again. Above all, I didn’t want to lose him.

Soon after they tested me, I found out that I was a perfect match. The hospital made arrangements for the bone marrow transplant to take place just two days before Christmas.

It was December 23, 2010. I felt scared and worried about what would happen. What if I wouldn’t wake up? What if it didn’t work? What if, despite all this, I would lose him anyway? I did my best to ignore all of my worries as I they rolled me into the operating room.

Suddenly, my priorities changed. My biggest fear was the needle they were preparing to put in my arm. I ripped off the anesthesia mask, worried that I wouldn’t be asleep by the time they put the needle in. They told me to put the mask back on, and everything faded to black.

One. Two. Three.

I woke up in the recovery room next to my mom after what felt like three seconds. The nurse pricked my thumb and gave me painkillers, and I desperately wanted to sleep again. Another nurse wheeled me up to Jude’s room, and I watched as the nurse transfused my bone marrow into his blood stream. As he fell asleep, he told me three words.

“I love you.”

Being half-Caucasian and half-Filipino, it would’ve been next to impossible for Jude to find a bone marrow donor. I have no doubt in my mind that Jude wouldn’t be with me today if I weren’t a match.

The bone marrow registry consists of mostly Caucasian donors, with other races having much fewer donors. Multiracial people seeking out a donor have the worst possible chances of finding a donor, as bone marrow matching relies heavily ethnicity. Because of the lack of diversity and overall lack of donors, very many patients, including children, aren’t able to get the bone marrow they need to survive.

Two years ago, a miracle happened. Jude is here with me today, and I feel so blessed to have the opportunity to share my story with the world. I know that there’s a reason we struggled, and I feel determined to make a difference."

Jude is now almost three and a half years in remission. He is in third grade at All Saints Catholic School and living as normal as every 9 year old boy!

"Hey Hercules!"

A North Texas woman met her bone marrow donor in person for the first time at the top of a Seattle skyscraper last weekend.  Lauren McCrary was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukemia around Thanksgiving in 2007. When doctors found the cancer, she had more than 70% leukemic cells in her body and the nurses who admitted her were surprised she was able to walk into the emergency room.  Lauren immediately started five rounds of intense chemotherapy over six months where she was limited to staying in the hospital.

After the second round of chemotherapy, Lauren's doctor suggested that she go to Baylor Dallas and discuss a bone marrow transplant.  Her family was immediately tested to see if anyone would be a good match but with only a 50% match, she was forced to turn to the national bone marrow registry.  She was matched with a donor from Washington.

She knew she wanted to meet the person who saved her life but she could not exchange personal information until one year after the transplant.  That first year they would swap letters anonymously.  Lauren addressed her letters to Hercules because she thought of him as the hero who saved her life.

Eventually, Hercules was replaced with Patrick.  He is a firefighter with the Richland Hills Department outside of Seattle.  And his heart for giving did not stop at the transplant.  He had signed up to climb in the grueling Scott Firefighter Stairclimb (73 flights of stairs in full gear) in Seattle, WA to benefit The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS).

Lauren worked with the LLS staff in Seattle to secretly fly out to the event, get to the top of the building, and surprise Patrick on the 73rd floor when he finished his climb.  When she saw him pop out of the stairwell she yelled "Way to go, Hercules!"  He immediately turned around and that was the first time Lauren was able to look into the eyes of the man who saved her life.

Lauren said that even though she knows Patrick personally now, he will forever be her Hercules.