Val's Story:

I was living the American dream, married to my longtime sweetheart, Jack, and raising two young sons, Austin and Addison. I had transitioned from a job in home staging to one in real estate sales and was establishing my roots in New Orleans.

Not a month later, Hurricane Katrina hit. I didn’t realize the hurricane would be a minor event compared to a personal storm that would strike our family just as we left New Orleans and re-planted our roots in Texas.

With Jack’s sales business slower than expected and the boys adjusting to their new life in our small community outside of Houston, I found myself struggling to keep my family connected through all of the changes. And then, our family was dealt another unexpected blow. In 2009, my youngest son Addison, Addie as we call him, went to the doctor for a couple of cracked ribs we attributed to football practice. Within 24 hours, he was diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia, the most common childhood cancer. He was 15 years old.

I wasn’t sure my family could withstand any more trauma, but, to my surprise, Addie’s diagnosis brought out our inner strength and pulled us together as a family.

As Addie began treatment at The University of Texas MD Anderson Children’s Cancer Hospital in Houston, our family adapted to yet another new lifestyle, one that included frequent doctor visits, difficult treatments and times of worry. Austin was away at college, but made frequent trips to be with his brother. Jack ensured his business would provide enough stability so that my primary focus could be taking care of Addie.

Prior to Addie’s diagnosis, I had established a new business as a professional organizer, a blessing in disguise. My position allowed me to be with Addie in the hospital during the week while Jack traveled for work. My clients worked with me so that I could meet them on nights and weekends when Jack was home with Addie.

The crazy thing was that I had made a career out of organizing people’s lives, and I couldn’t even keep my own life in order. I was so overwhelmed and felt everything I had known was shaken up and dumped out. Without the support of our community and family, we couldn’t do this. I’ve learned the importance of accepting help and delegating responsibilities.

Many of Addie’s high school friends have donated their time to do yard work for us or help with housekeeping duties and providing meals. Some of the community businesses have organized fundraisers to help pay for Addie’s medical expenses. Addie’s Boy Scout troop and football teammates even organized an 80-mile hike to show their enduring support for their friend.

In April 2010, a year after his initial diagnosis, Addie’s leukemia relapsed, so once again our family pulled together and rallied for more treatment. We opted to enroll in a clinical trial to test a new therapy. Amazingly, Addie hasn’t let chemotherapy sideline him from working out with his teammates and doing most of the normal activities that teenage boys enjoy doing.

I’ve chosen to focus my energies on paying it forward. Just before Addie’s relapse, I had joined the Children’s Cancer Hospital’s Family Advisory Council, a group of staff and parents who meet monthly to discuss ways to enhance care and services for families at the hospital.

During one of the meetings, the group discussed revamping an information folder for new patients and devising a system to help keep families organized through their cancer treatment. A light bulb turned on, and I went home after the meeting and got to work creating a binder based on Addie’s experience and what I find helpful as a caregiver.

The next week, I was sitting in the waiting room at the hospital and met the mother of a newly diagnosed patient. The family didn’t have a support system in town, and the mother was overwhelmed. After our visit, I went home and put together another binder and brought it back to the mother. Learning that our schedules would coincide again, I offered to sit with the patient and help organize all of their medical information while the mother could take a break and run some errands.

I don’t consider myself someone with a lot of different talents, but organizing is something I’ve been good at since I was a child. Each day I have a choice. I could be sitting around focusing on my child’s 50/50 chance of survival, or I could be doing something that’s helpful to someone going through what I’m going through.

Sometimes I get asked how I do it, but it’s not like I’m superwoman. I still need to let my emotions out like any other woman. Cancer or not, I’m still the mother of a teenage boy.

And when you have a house full of guys, you better have a good girlfriend. I have a long-time friend who I can call at 3 a.m. if I need to, and she’ll listen to me vent or cry. She’s like a compass, helping me decipher what’s typical teenager stuff and what’s caused by cancer.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all of this, it’s that good friends, family and faith are what get you through the ups and downs of life.