THANK YOU

Dear ones, as Chase lay asleep last night, just short of the ten o’clock hour, we quietly crossed over the $10,000 mark. In less than 24 hours, no, in barely half that time, the Chase Away Cancer community and friends gathered OVER $10,000 for Lurie Children’s Hospital and the Anthony Rizzo Family Foundation in honor of Chase’s 13 years!

Did you hear that? Did you read it, because I want to say it again… in 2022, with inflation and illness and sadness all around us, you quietly and efficiently added thirteen to thirteen to thirteen over and over again until it was thousands and thousands!

He came to find me at my computer right before his dad tucked him in and wrapped in his gingerbread man pajamas, he leaned over the screen. “How did we do?”

“They did it, Chase. For you… Ten thousand dollars…”

And last year, he gasped and jumped up and down, but this year, his eyes got wide, a smile appeared on the edge of his lips, and then he bent his head to my shoulder with a long sigh of relief and a single word.

Good.”

And isn’t that just the heart of it sometimes? We put our heads down, rest from the fight, take a deep breath, and sit with the good – even if only for a moment – because there is always good to be had, especially now, in the Advent of the Best.

And dear ones… this was a VERY GOOD THING that happened this Monday, the 12th of December. We rested for a moment and we hope and pray that these beautiful, amazing donations help others rest longer and easier farther along.

Looking forward with great hope, from the bottom of our hearts –

THANK YOU

Moment by moment

[photo: Margaret Henry]

A Brief History Of A Long Road

DO YOU EVER WONDER HOW IT ALL STARTED…??

On Sunday, Chase’s marks ten years of cancer fighting. TEN YEARS is quite the journey, dear ones, isn’t it? In case you’ve joined us more recently, or in case you’re curious or it’s been a while… here’s what brought us to this place:

Just before dawn on Tuesday, July 31, 2012, a six-year-old Darcy woke us to complain that Chase – only two and still in his crib – was “moving around and won’t stop”. 

“El…! You need to come here! Chase is having a seizure!” The mix of deadly calm and worry in Bob’s words propelled me from the bed before my eyes were fully open, heart racing. 

And just like that, we woke to the first day of a completely different life, never to return to the one we had known ’til then.

Within hours, we would learn that there was “a large mass” shoving one half of his brain into the other (causing the seizure) and that the hospital we had been taken to by the ambulance wasn’t equipped to deal with cases on this level.

By noon, Chase had been transferred downtown to the brand new Ann & Robert H. Lurie Children’s Hospital of Chicago facility. 

Within hours of the transfer, we had learned that he was having near constant invisible seizures and he was moved to the intensive care unit. 

By early Thursday morning, 48 hours later, we had signed papers, said goodbye, and handed our little boy to a team of neurosurgeons.

The surgery was mercifully short as brain surgeries go (under four hours), but the news was a worst case scenario: While the initial tumor had been successfully removed, Chase’s lead neurosurgeon gently explained that the pathology was not only deeply malignant, but also highly aggressive, and that he had actually visualized cancer cells all over the top of his brain…too numerous to be removed. The scans backed up the doctor’s assessment. There was cancer all over the brain, in the spinal fluid, and lining the spinal column. 

The plans were placed, the words were guarded, and nobody expected Chase to survive his third birthday. 

But he would…

The next nearly two years brought seemingly endless complications, procedures, and days spent living in the hospital. We moved in with my parents, who cared for our other three children. Chase went through so much chemo, so many days of radiation, and bag after bag of transfusions – so many interventions that Bob and I l have since lost count.

He finished treatment sixteen months to the day after starting and immediately began extensive therapies to improve his quality of life. 

He could speak, but he didn’t understand what words meant. 

He wasn’t growing.

He couldn’t hear well.

He couldn’t see well. 

He had almost no short term memory.

And we were informed that these would most likely be just the beginning of side effects. 

There were routine scans every few months.

A year later, the MRI picked up a small growth and we battled relapse fear – another MRI after six of the longest weeks of our lives showing what was most likely a radiation damage and he was diagnosed with benign tumors/cavernous malformations.

The next summer, he was officially diagnosed with significant hearing loss.

The following spring, he had two separate surgeries to remove cataracts and try to improve his vision. 

Three weeks after the first cataract surgery occurred in 2016, Tyndale House Publishers published my labor of love – “Chase Away Cancer” – the story of those first six years and some of the lessons we’d learned along the way.

We settled into post cancer complications and life.

A little over two years later (after the longest season of only routine appointments and few emergencies) an MRI pick up strange thyroid growths and in the last week of January, 2019, Chase was diagnosed with thyroid cancer and had his entire thyroid removed. 

A few months later, Chase had his first visible seizure in seven years. 

Only weeks later, his thyroid site showed cancer in a couple of surrounding lymph nodes and despite a full body scan showing the spread to be contained to the thyroid area, Chase was scheduled for radioactive iodine therapy two weeks before Thanksgiving. 

Since that time, despite frequent health anomalies that seem to require lots of appointments, tests, and even occasional surgeries and procedures, Chase continues with his two-cancer diagnosis – the primary never having relapsed, the secondary having been stopped from spreading. 

We have no idea what comes next. Although we will be meeting with a genetic specialist in September to try and better understand why Chase’s body succumbs to proliferating cells the way it does and if we can possibly protect him from ever having another diagnosis.

His story has been shared from teary hospital rooms to history-packed halls of the White House. And if we’ve learned one thing in ten years, it’s that Chase is a precious law unto himself, a broken, beautiful story that only God himself knows completely.

As always, thank you for coming on this journey with us. 

Moment by moment. 

[Chase’s family includes Dad (Bob), Mom (Ellie – who is the primary writer on CAC), older sister Darcy (16), older brother Aidan (13), and younger brother Karsten (10)] 

THANK YOU

See us running and hugging and freaking out a little? …crazy joy smiles on our faces?

Today, that’s what we’re doing because 1) our miracle boy turned 12 years old yesterday, and 2) because you put together the MOST AMAZING action in the last two days.

In less than 48 hours, the Chase Away Cancer community and friends gathered OVER $13,000 for Lurie Children’s Hospital and the Anthony Rizzo Family Foundation in honor of Chase’s 12 years!

You guys!

YOU DID IT!!!!!

I wish you could have heard the gasp Chase let out when I told him the news.

Dear ones… this was a VERY GOOD THING that happened this weekend.

From the bottom of our hearts –

THANK YOU

Moment by moment

[all photos: Margaret Henry Photography]

He’s 12 Today

Last night, I was reflecting on the start of Chase’s life. Perhaps some of you have seen this before, but this (above) is the first photo I have of Chase and with Chase. This picture never stops being amazing to me because he came so fast and was placed on my chest so fast with such a deep scream that I actually watched life flow into him, turning him pink.

Can you see it?

Can you see who he is today in this tiny scrap of human in my arms?

Another reason I never stop being amazed at this picture is because I had absolutely no idea what lay ahead of us and how many miracles lay in store for this sweet, unexpected life. I had no idea how much I’d cry… or laugh…

Did you know that Chase was born 12 months and 5 days after his older brother? To say he was a surprise to us would be an understatement, and yet, it underscores something I know with my whole heart… Chase was meant to be on this earth.

He followed fast on brother’s heals.

He came fast and screaming into the world.

He hasn’t stopped fighting since.

And this is one of his personal favorite pictures because I’m in a hospital bed with nurses and gloves and masks around me…and there was an IV in my hand. And so I reflected on these picture things last night, as I wrapped presents and prepared for now – this day.

Twelve… It’s so insane to me! I remember the day the doctors told us “Don’t think too far ahead… let’s just try and get him to age three.”

Isn’t life amazing? …and so are you! Yesterday alone, the day before alone, you raised over $7,000 in Chase’s “12 For 12″ fundraiser.

Dear ones, my heart is so full. These dollars will do so much good. Think about this: somewhere this day, a woman like me is holding her baby – like Chase – in her arms for the first time, having no idea how much she’s going to need Lurie Children’s and foundations like ARFF someday. And when she wakes up one day and realizes the need… we will have already been there – doing our best – because Chase turned 12.

Life is precious.

Moment by moment.

[To donate in celebration of Chase or to share with a friend, click THE LINK – thank you!]

Five Years

Our darling Chase,

We have never expected you.

You were our surprise baby with your surprise personality and a most surprising life ahead of you that we could not have imagined if we’d tried.

We would apologize for our lack of expectation, but somehow the silly, crooked grin every time you perform the unexpected makes us wonder if you sort of just adore shocking us all.

Like living when they thought you would not…

Like walking when they thought you would not…

Like talking when they thought you would not…

Like a dozen other things that started as “NOT”, but you said “WATCH ME”.

You will always defy expectations, our sweet boy.

And somehow it’s only fitting that your cancer diagnosis includes the word “atypical” – because that’s exactly what you are and we love you for it.

Five years ago this morning, I doubt very much that five months were expected, let alone five years, but of course, you showed them and you continue to show us.

You will never have the easy life, my darling Chase, but you will have the precious life, for sure and always.

Whatever may pass and whatever lies before you…keep singing when the evening comes.

We love you,

Mom and Dad