Our daughter Kiera is now four years old.  She is a happy, energetic, talkative and outgoing little girl.  She is also a cancer survivor.  To look at her today, with her long, golden locks of hair, you would never know that two short years ago she was completely bald. 

When Kiera was just 18 months old she was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL). It was June 17, 2007 -- Father’s Day.  Earlier that week she had been in to see her pediatrician for a scheduled well visit.  Aside from a persistent cold she was found to be in good health. 

A few days later we noticed that Kiera, who was a steady walker by that time, wouldn’t stand up, let alone walk.  When we put her on her feet she would begin to cry in pain.  We figured she must have hurt her ankle or something just as common and took her back to the doctor the next day.  An x-ray indicated that everything was in order with the exception of a bone cyst which did not look too concerning.  Her doctor suggested that we follow up with an orthopedist and to come back if the symptoms persisted or if she were to spike a fever. 

The next morning, Kiera woke up and was walking as if nothing had happened!  But by Sunday she seemed lethargic and just not herself.  I took her into the doctor that Father’s Day while my husband and son went to church.  I remember Kiera seemed to perk up in the doctor’s office and did not have a fever at all.  Of course, feeling unbelievably guilty about coming in on a Sunday, much less Father’s Day, I thought “Kiera better start to look sick or they’re going to think I’m crazy!”  When the doctor came and began looking Kiera over, she found these little red spots all over her skin.  I thought, “It must be a rash.”  Ignorance is bliss. 

The doctor sent us over to the emergency room at Maria Fareri Children’s Hospital at Westchester Medical Center for some blood work.  All the while I had no clue what we were in for.  I remember looking outside and seeing a child who had no hair, clearly going through chemotherapy, and thinking, “That poor family.  God bless them.”  Little did I know that within hours she would be my daughter’s playmate.

A short time later the emergency room doctor came in and told me to sit down. I think we all know that is never a good sign.  He continued to tell me that he had some “concerning” news, that Kiera’s blood work suggested that she had leukemia.  I honestly couldn’t tell you what he said next because I was in shock.  My next discernable thought
was, “I have to call my husband and tell him that our daughter has cancer.”  When he heard the news, he fell to the floor and we cried together, both feeling as if we were in some horrific nightmare and couldn’t wait to wake up.  

Kiera was immediately admitted to Maria Fareri Children’s Hospital and received the first of many blood transfusions.  The next morning, we met her oncologist, who confirmed that Kiera had ALL, and our assigned oncology social worker informed us this was “the good type of cancer.” Who knew there was one?  Kiera went in for surgery that Wednesday and had her life port (central-line catheter) placed, her first bone marrow aspiration, spinal tap and round of chemotherapy.  We did not know what to expect from there on out. 

My husband and I envisioned a bedridden toddler, but Kiera had other plans.  That very day, our feisty girl was up and running, literally.  From that point on we felt that if cancer was not going to get her down, it wasn’t going to get us down either!  That’s not to say that the journey was easy, because it wasn’t.  Watching your child go through painful injections, some of which you had to administer yourself, spinal taps, endless drugs, is never easy, but Kiera took it all in stride.  We figured that if she was strong enough to go through it and still have a smile on her little face, then we had no excuse but to follow her lead. 

It took us time to get used to what had become our “new normal,” which included countless doctor visits, hospital stays, and chemotherapy drugs.  Our son Joseph was Kiera’s biggest fan, cheering her on during every injection or hospital visit. He was patient when he was told that he couldn’t have a friend over because Kiera was too sick or that we wouldn’t be going to the pool that summer for fear of infection.  We never told him that his sister had cancer, but intuitively he knew that she was sick and was going to be for a long time.

Eventually, we did adjust to our “new normal.” and as we spent time with other families, it helped to know we were not alone.  Kiera received the best care available from an amazing team of oncologists and nurses at Maria Fareri Children’s Hospital, and we will always be grateful to them for saving our daughter’s life.