“No, there has to be some mistake. This can’t be happening to our five year old”…

It was the summer of 2016. Our five year old daughter was having a nice relaxed vacation with grandma and grandpa who were visiting. She was as happy as could be — many playdates, sleepovers, and visits to the beaches and parks. Time flew by and school was about to start soon.

The week before school started, she was mildly lethargic. She was happy to be running up and around in the house, but strangely, did not want to visit the park. Her appetite was a bit poor, and she seemed a bit more irritable than usual. Nothing alarming, just a few subtle changes…

Then, one afternoon, a couple of days before first grade started, she came down with a 102 fever. Although she seemed fine after a Tylenol, I took off from work the next day and decided that it wouldn’t hurt to visit the doctor. It had been a while anyway since we visited the doctor.

The pediatrician examined her, and assured me that our kid was completely fine. On a normal day, I would have been happy to hear that. But my instincts told me that something was a bit off — maybe our kid was showing early signs of anemia? The pediatrician asserted that our kid’s growth and vitals were fine, and the lethargy was probably just from growth pains…

After my continued insistence, the pediatrician decided to order a blood test.

Our kiddo was surprisingly brave and didn’t even budge as the nurses drew her blood. Infact, she was so fascinated to see her blood go into test tubes, that on the way back home, she kept asking me a ton of questions about blood and what they would do with her blood. We discussed what nurses and doctors do, and she even declared that she wanted to become a doctor. 🙂

The rest of the day was quite normal. She played games with grandma and grandpa as usual. After dinner, I gave her a shower and we picked a favorite book to read at bedtime. We were tucked in comfortably under the blankets, and were discussing stories, laughing at silly things and reading our favorite book. It was a fun Friday night and we were making plans for the weekend.

Everything was fine… until the phone rang…

We got a call from Kaiser. A pediatrician was telling me that they analyzed my daughter’s blood and found something abnormal in her cells. She asked us to immediately admit our kid to the hospital.

“What did you just say?”, I stammered in confusion. The pediatrician apologized for having to break the news over the phone and mentioned the C word… My heart froze… I hung up…

There had to be a mistake somewhere. This could not be happening. Afterall, our kid was so young and healthy…

We mindlessly tossed a few clothes in a backpack, and took our kid to the ER. It was 10pm, Friday night. I was praying with every breath that the doctor made a mistake, and that our kid should be completely fine…

She was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (B-type). What followed was the worst nightmare. She was admitted in ER, poked a few times to start the IV, and was crying in fear while nurses, residents and doctors rushed in and out of the room performing chest xrays and one test after another… The craziness continued through the night until 4am.

A myriad of feelings arose, ranging from utter helplessness with life being hurled crazily out of control; a feeling of isolation where everyone seems to care but no one really understands; despair from dealing with the vast uncertainty of events ahead; heightened mental confusion from the overload of medical terms and decisions to be made; bitterness and anger at why did this happen to such a young, happy and innocent child; extreme nervousness and doubts on whether things will ever be fine again…