I'm just going to cut right to it. No dancing around the topic and no sugar coating. It's time the truth be told.

While I am happy that today I am able to stand and say my daughter beat childhood cancer, not every mother and father will have the privilege to do so. Some families will lose their child within days, weeks or months of their child’s cancer diagnosis. Some go on for years through the hurt and pain of radiation, chemotherapy and relapses, only to come to an conclusion that all treatment options have been exhausted, and they are sent home to enjoy “what time they have left together.”

So many nights I would lay in that hospital bed with my daughter during her long hospital admissions, and dream of the day that it would all be over; not too long after the thought would caress my mind, a child cries out in the room next door or down the hall in great pain, hurt and fear. I laid there many nights in prayer. Some nights the sounds of that hospital sounded more like that of an old hospital scene from a war movie with many moans, groans, cries and IV machines beeping when suddenly the Code Blue alarm (a child coding, not breathing) would sound and instantly my mind would capture the thought that ‘somewhere in this hospital, somebody’s child isn’t breathing. Somebody may be seeing their child alive for the last time at this very moment.

While I am thrilled beyond reasoning that my duaghter's battle with this disease is over (for now and, hopefully, forever), I can’t help but be consumed in guilt. My mind shifts back to the war scene, and I can’t help but wonder, “This must be what a soldier feels like after the war; so happy to be home, yet so incredibly guilty that they survived while their brothers and sisters died.” How can I find joy in this victory when I feel so guilty that many parents will never get to experience this joy with their child battling cancer? Sure my daughter endured a great battle, dealt with horrendous and painful side effects, goes to monthly "relapse" check-ups and will endure "survivor" clinic down the road to monitor her long term side effects that have yet to present themselves; she's alive and still here with us.

In my selfish ways I try not to think of those who will or have lost their child to cancer, but in my efforts, I fail.

I watch my daughter often with tears of joy as she dances, twirls, sings and plays so elegantly with her baby brother whom she missed so dearly during her long inpatient treatments at the hospital. Then the thought floods my mind, “Some young brother or sister somewhere lost their sibling to cancer today.”

On our breaks home from treatment, my daughter would often have the opportunity to see and play with her best friends and, oh, what a joy it was to hear their sounds of laughter and to see the sight of joy on their faces in their reuniting. Then visions flash before me of a young student standing alone on the first day of school wishing their best friend was still there to share in that moment.

So many happy moments I see, I can’t help but agonize over the families and friends that will never get to see these moments with their own child or friend because of childhood cancer. When will the madness end? When will this war against childhood cancer be over? Too many have been lost and too many have to suffer from PTSD to a battle that never a single person signed up to be a part of.

While many of you watch from afar, in your honesty you think childhood cancer will never affect your family. I thought the same as well; as did every family battling the existence and dauntless fight of childhood cancer. Truth is, there is no hiding from it, there is no running from it, and there is no “eating healthy and organically” your way out of it. Childhood cancer is real, raw and impossible to be shielded from. And while there are treatments available, these treatments are up to 40, 50 and 60 years old.

The NCI (National Cancer Institute) provides only four percent of its nationally funded income to childhood cancer research. Does your child’s life, and the quality thereof, mean more to you than four percent of research?

What if tomorrow you were told your child has cancer? Wouldn’t you want treatments for your child that wouldn’t cause life long side effects and pose the threat of killing your child before the cancer does?

Stand up to end it today for the sake of your child’s tomorrow! Parents -- do your research. Decide today to make a better tomorrow for your child.

Signed,
A hurting, guilty, confused cancer mom.