Nine Lessons in Nine Years

Kelsey soon celebrates nine years of life.  Each of her nine years has been unique.  She has endured so many inquiries, tests, and circumstances, many of them we as adults may not have experienced.  To put it another way, it has been a journey.   Each year of the journey has taught us something new.  We are grateful for each year and the lessons we learned.

Year One taught us resilience.  We spent 16 days hospitalized and torn apart as a family, each in pain with worry, concern, and lacking a diagnosis.  By the first birthday celebration, we bounced back ready to learn more and find an answer.  Each one of us was forever changed by the experiences that we can never fully explain.

Year Two taught us to advocate.  In year one, we listened to poor medical advice and waited on others to seek solutions.  Year one was painful.  Year Two was the year of advocating.  Remember to be your own advocate and advocate for your children’s needs, always.  No one will ever care as much as you.  We did not accept, “she is fine!” and we sought answers instead of waiting for them to come to us.

Year Three taught us to listen.  Year Three gave us a diagnosis.  We thought that would make life easier, but instead, it led us to more questions and further complexities.  Medication battles with insurance and a true inability to process how little we knew made us listen more and savor small moments.  Upon one biopsy that resulted in a huge incision on the neckline, the surgeon soothed a mother’s worry about the scar to say, “We have to make sure she sees her next birthday.  This scar will help us figure out how to get her there.”  Listen.  Trust.  Breathe.  That was Year Three.

Year Four taught us promise.  There was so much promise in the medication we were using and so much happiness and joy brought back to our life when the medication started to work for our child.  A child who was once lifeless and listless was running and climbing stairs.  Promise and joy were restored in many of Year Four’s moments.

Year Five taught us Vulnerability.  We began this journey with Kelsey’s Kaleidoscope and we started to tell our story.  We put ourselves out there and started to spread awareness and raise money for our foundation.  We connected with others who shared our story.  We were weak when Kelsey took a tough turn and faced the return of frequent hospital visits and scans.  We had a fridge full of medication that no longer eased pain or brought joy.  We were vulnerable and scared.

Year Six taught us patience.  We trusted and prayed and after eight months of changes, a calm came for Kelsey.  She was walking, running, and smiling with ease.  We were patient and we were grateful.

Year Seven taught us endurance.  The road had been long and pain Kelsey started to feel emotionally and physically transferred to each member of her family in some way.  We laughed, we cried, and we got each other through.  It was not without a long road and another failed medication.  Spots, weakness, and pain returned to bruise emotions and bodies.

Year Eight taught us hope.  We were beyond touched by the community efforts and new faces that learned of our journey and cared.  We published a book, we went on television, and we reflected on where we are at this time.  We have hope and gratitude.

Year Nine is unknown and undefied.  Together, we are ready to persevere and lift each other.  We plan ahead and dream big.  We thank you for your support and kindness.  We wish Kelsey a happy ninth birthday and pray for all of her wishes to come true.

Rare

Rare is defined as “marked by unusual quality, merit, or appeal DISTINCTIVE” and trust us, the life of a rare disease can be described as distinctive.

The rare and beautiful wonders of the world capture a sense of peace and awe when viewed.

The face of a rare disease or a young woman working her way through childhood with a rare distinction is heartbreaking.

A relative recently stated this journey as the unimaginable.  That would accurately describe the acute pain and uncertainty of these inexplicable lesions and the new limp that Kelsey is just smart enough to conceal from anyone who does not know her well.

Rare is never a word we want to use for our child’s childhood nor our child’s health.  Yet, here we are stunted with emotion for the lack of understanding these lesions bring to some of the brightest minds in the world.

Rare is lonely, rare is an emotional drain, and rare feels distinctively raw right now.

Please support our efforts and help us raise funds and awareness at our third annual gala: TICKETS.

The Open Act – Call for Action

Rare is defined as marked by unusual quality, merit, or appeal.  We live through “rare” daily with Kelsey, some markedly easier than others.   Sometimes it is the familiar that can help our “rare” become more usual.  Today can be that day.

The EveryLife Foundation advocates for the rare disease community in Washington, D.C.  A proposed bill, The OPEN ACT, that would help double the number of affordable treatments available to rare disease patients.    This is a bipartisan bill that is supported by over 220 patient organizations.  If put into law, it could bring hundreds of safe, effective, and affordable medicines to rare disease patients like Kelsey within the next several years.  How?  It provides incentives for drug creators to re-purpose therapies to help treat patients with life-threatening rare diseases.  You can read For Rare Disease Patients: A New Pathway To Hundreds of New Therapies, in Health Affairs to learn more about The Open Act and the hundreds of new treatments it could provide for patients like Kelsey.

I was lucky enough to hear from Nancy Goodman, leading pediatric cancer advocate, founder, and executive director of Kids v Cancer, at the DADA2 Conference this past November.  During her presentation, Ms. Goodman stated, “if there is a bill on Capitol Hill that will help your rare disease, then you should advocate for it!”

This is one of those times.  If you feel inclined, please help our cause and thousands of others like us.  You can click on this link to send a letter to your representative.  It only takes about two minutes to complete the form.


SAVE THE DATE – DESIGNER BAG BINGO- JULY 13, 2017

St. Charles Borromeo * 176 Stagecoach Rd, Sicklerville, NJ 08081