August 07, 2006
I am working on a deadline for the next few days. During this time I have decided to reprint some of my favorite memories:
Jump For Your Life
I made a call today that stunned me. I phoned the mother of a child who passed away from cancer a number of years ago. I wanted to speak to her about including a story about her son Sean in a book I am writing called “If You’re Going Through Hell Don’t Stop”. The book is about the inspiration and motivation I received from terminally ill children during my time as a Doctor of Mischief.
I was rather nervous about the call. I didn’t want to upset Sean’s mother by bringing up the death of her son. I believe there is nothing worse than losing a child and I didn’t want to add to her grief, even though he died six years ago.
Saying goodbye to Sean was especially difficult for me because he reminded me of my nephew Rhett. The last time I saw Sean was at a Candlelighters Childhood Cancer Foundation family meeting. Sean’s mother told us the doctors said for her to call hospice because there was nothing more they could do for Sean. He already had two bone marrow transplants and his body could not take any more chemotherapy. They gave him six months to live.
Sean’s family decided to move out of town to live with Sean’s grandparents for support during the last weeks of his life.
It was really tough saying goodbye to Sean that night because I knew I probably wouldn’t see him again. I cried all the way home in my car. I remember “The Long And Winding Road” by the Beatles was playing on my car radio.
That was almost six years ago.
I located Sean’s mother’s telephone number on the internet. I finally plucked up enough courage to call her this afternoon:
“Trevor, oh my God. How are you?” she said, warmly.
“I’m fine,” I replied. “More importantly how are you?”
“I have been meaning to call you…”
“That’s okay,” I said. “I understand.”
“Actually. I need to speak to you.”
"You do?” I replied.
“Yeah. Sean’s doing a project on South Africa and he wanted to ask you some questions...”
“Sean?”
“Yeah, it one of those geography assignments.”
Silence.
“Trevor?”
“Yeah, hello. Sorry, it’s my cell phone,” I said, making an excuse for my inability to process what she was telling me.
“I love the book you and Nancy did for kids with cancer.” She said.
“Chemo, Craziness and Comfort,” I said.
“You guys did a great job.”
“How is Sean? I asked.
“Aw, he’s wonderful. What a great kid. He’s our little miracle boy. Did you know they gave him only live six months?”
“He proved them wrong huh.” I chuckled.
“Yeah. He never gave up. Not for a second.”
Everything is okay in the end. And if it's not okay, then it's not the end
Posted by trevor at August 7, 2006 03:12 PM
Comments
This is beautiful. Very inspiring! Thank you for sharing these memories.
Posted by: Lynn at August 7, 2006 10:32 AM
WOW! Every time I pop in on your blog, you touch me so deeply. What an AWESOME story. Thank you so much!
Posted by: Liz Ness at August 7, 2006 11:51 AM
oh trev ~~~~~~
that is the most amazing story...
you just experienced a MIRACLE.
wow...
*big grin on my face and happy chills all over me*
Posted by: Leonie at August 7, 2006 07:30 PM