Hope Against Fear (page 3 of 3)

Lessons to Learn

Eighteen-year-old John Gradberg, a strapping six-foot-six with blue eyes and braces, sits next to his mother, Mickie, in an exam room. He has one more radiation treatment to go before they make the eight-hour drive back to Beckville, Texas. He'll get a month off before coming back to St. Jude for four months of chemo for the medulloblastoma that was diagnosed and removed shortly after he started college courses to become a math teacher.

For one of John's checkups, Dr. Gajjar comes in and asks him and his mom if they've thought more about John's using a sperm bank. Since he was treated after puberty, it's almost certain the chemo will make him sterile. "You can ask my son, Dr. Gajjar; it's his decision," Mickie Gradberg says.

"I'm not gonna do it," John tells the doctor. "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be." Dr. Gajjar hopes he will reconsider once he goes home and talks to his dad, John, a Baptist pastor. Most of his other teen patients take this option. John would love his own kids someday but believes it's out of his hands. Right now he's focused on getting strong so he can work his way back to the level of basketball that helped his high school team win the district championship this year. He hopes to be a coach one day, but now, he struggles to make free throws.

Paul Larkin won't have to worry about sterility, and because he's an older child, even a drop in IQ probably won't affect his good grades at school. Much harder for the 13-year-old to grapple with is the loss of his hair, the result of lying completely still on his stomach underneath what looks like an upside-down blender while a radiation beam penetrated his skull five days a week for six weeks. Even though much of his hair has grown back, there's still a bald spot on the top of his head, where the beam was strongest. Paul wears a baseball hat everywhere he goes, including class. His hearing isn't as sharp as it was -- a result of the chemo -- but so far, he has no problem hearing his teachers or his dad telling him to "keep your head down" from across the green during their frequent golf outings.

Once a swift runner, Paul recently told Christine, "Mom, I'm not fast anymore." She just reminds him that the doctors say he's fine, and this reassurance is all he needs to go out and prove himself wrong. He continues to push himself on the running track and at the batting cage near home, and goes to a health club for cardio work. Not one to readily share his feelings, Paul admits he does feel more mature because of the cancer, but otherwise, he's nearly the same kid he was before. "I just want to forget about it."

George Larkin has stopped waiting for outcomes. Though he's always spent time with Paul and his brothers, Georgie, 15, and Ben, 11, now he makes every minute with them count, sharing activities like hiking and traveling to England and Ireland. "I realize I could lose my children very quickly, and I just live each day, trying not to let the what-ifs in," he says. "As a parent, that's all you can do."

On the way to see if Paul is ready for discharge, Christine spots Valerie Groben, Dr. Gajjar's nurse-practitioner. Some St. Jude parents are on the phone every five minutes asking for results, but Christine copes better by waiting for word to find her. No news is good news, she believes. This time, though, she can't wait. "Valerie, how's it going?" Christine says. "Do you have any word?"

"Well, I haven't gotten a page about Paul," Groben reassures her. "And the radiologist has already paged me two or three times to look at other scans, so let me poke my head in and see."

A minute later she's back: "The preliminary report is fine. All clear."

Relief floods Christine, and then life picks up and goes on. Back at the apartment, Paul chows down a meatball-and-provolone sandwich, then asks his mom if she wants to play basketball with him.

So one wait is over, but the next has already begun. For his checkup in January, Paul will get a spinal tap to check definitively for cancer cells in his spinal fluid. But at this moment, he is all smiles about the basket he just made at the court outside the apartment.

"I try to push it to the back of my mind, but it's always there," Christine says. "Yet Paul is not dwelling on anything. He's just living. That's part of the lesson I have to learn, to let that go and just enjoy those basketball moments with Paul."

From Reader's Digest - December 2006

 

• Heroes
• • Inspiring Stories
• • Health Insurance
• Family Life
• • Miracles
• • Children's Health
• • Survival Stories

• The St. Jude Story
• First, a devastating diagnosis. Then, the hurricane. How three families rode out the storms.
• 
• Finding Hope at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital
• At St. Jude Hospital, a remarkable medical team gives sick children all they ever wanted, a chance at a future.
• 
• Festive Ways to Save Lives
• How you can help support the patients at St. Jude Children's Research Hospital.
• 
• Resources for Parents of Kids With Disabilities
• Helpful links to the best sites on the Web for parents of kids with disabilities.
• 

• Be Inspired
• 10 Celebrities Who Give Back
• 7 Amazing Stories, $700,000 to Charity
• Virginia Cervasio: Making It Matter
• PLUS:
• Quiz: What's Your Celebrity Cause IQ?