Cure Childhood Cancer

CURE Blog


September 26th, 2014

CURE Childhood Cancer Honors Catie Wilkins

September is National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Join us today, September 26, 2014 as CURE Childhood Cancer honors Catie Wilkins. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time! Donate to Catie’s fundraising page.

Catie Wilkins Photo“Momma, did Catie like blueberries?”

“Yes baby, she did. Maybe even as much as you.”

“What was her favorite cereal? Did she like Rice Krispies like me?”

“I think Fruit Loops were her favorite, but she wasn’t a big cereal girl. Grits were more her style.”

“Momma, can we go see Catie soon?”

Sigh…  When my second born asked that, a long discussion about the “geographical” placement of Heaven began.

Chip, our youngest, has been less inquisitive about Catie. But recently, he has brought her up with his own questions. “Momma, was this shirt Catie’s?” “Yes, it was. Your Aunt Lisa and Uncle Dennis brought it back to her from Las Vegas.” He then went on to begin his own discussions about visiting his first sister.

Both Izzy and Chip have begun to work out Catie, Heaven and absence from this earth in their own ways. In Izzy’s drawings of our family, Catie has moved from being with us on the ground into the sky with wings. I’m amazed to watch her journey of understanding.

I always knew that Izzy and Chip would miss Catie in their own way and in their own time. Still, Izzy caught me off-guard the day she began (completely out of the blue) to cry in the back seat. “Izzy, baby, what’s wrong?” And her little voice from the back said, “Momma, I miss Catie.” Another big sigh from me. “Me too, baby. Me too.”

This is why we still support CURE Childhood Cancer seven and a half long years after our sweet Catie left us. No little boy or girl should ever have to wonder about the sibling they never got to meet or have to miss the sibling they loved so very, very much. My kids shouldn’t have to know that children can die from a terrible disease. We should be a family of five instead of five minus one. And conversations about Heaven should only be about what a wonderful place it is that we will go to one day instead of, “Mom, how do we get there so I can meet her now?”

Izzy has dreamed about Catie before. She told me the angels kissed her at night… that Catie kissed her. I like to think that it can work like that. Since they can’t know her in person yet, she gets to visit them in their dreams. And Izzy tells me that she thinks the sky in Heaven is nothing but rainbows. Part of me wonders if CatieBug has given her a bit of a sneak peek.

Screen-Shot-2012-09-07-at-1.56.52-PM27-150x1503Please join us as we support CURE in Catie’s memory and in honor of Izzy and Chip. No child should suffer as Catie did and no kids should have to grow up wondering what their big sister was like.


September 25th, 2014

Kaylee’s Story

CURE Childhood Cancer honors CURE Kid Kaylee Crapps. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time!

Kaylee Crapps PhotoIn late July 2013, 17-month-old Kaylee had not been acting herself. She was lethargic, crying when she wasn’t being held, and not eating much. Although the first week of this, her mother thought Kaylee was just teething. Finally, she decided to make an appointment with the pediatrician on August 1st. The Doctor did a check up and noticed her pale complexion and bruising. She did a blood test to check Kaylee for Anemia. The blood test not only showed she was anemic, but her white blood count was through the roof and her red blood cells and platelets were extremely low. She advised Kaylee’s parents to take her to Scottish Rite Children’s Hospital immediately to meet with the hematologist.

After arriving at CHOA, Kaylee endured more blood tests and met with an Oncologist who told her parents the news that their sweet, sassy, 17-month-old little girl – lover of playground slides and Elmo – had cancer. Kaylee was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia (ALL). For the next few weeks, Kaylee and her parents lived in the hospital while she had multiple transfusions, surgery to have a port placed in her chest, x-rays, bone marrow samples taken, and started chemo to begin her two-and-a-half year battle.

Kaylee is now two-and-a-half years old and still enduring her daily cancer treatment. But, by the grace of God, a day doesn’t go by without seeing a smile out of her. She loves going to the pool with friends, playing in the yard with her two dogs, saying hello to anyone that passes by her, eating an endless amount of macaroni and cheese, and singing and dancing to the movie ‘Frozen.’ She is the light on some very scary days and has shown amazing courage and fight in such a tiny little package. She is truly our little hero and we feel blessed that we were chosen to be her parents. She still has over a year to fight this beast that is cancer, but we remain faithful that she WILL beat this! Jeremiah 29:11 is her battle scripture that we lean on. Join us in the journey to #pray4K and see how she is doing on www.kayleesbattle.com.

Kaylee’s “cure date” has been set for December 3rd 2015.


September 25th, 2014

CURE Childhood Cancer Honors Grace Buckel

September is National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Join us today, September 25, 2014 as CURE Childhood Cancer honors CURE Kid Grace Buckel. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time! Donate to Grace’s fundraising page. 

Grace Buckel PhotoIt’s been two years since Grace was diagnosed with cancer. So much has happened since then and our family is grateful for every single day that takes us further away from that diagnosis. This past year, our family went on Grace’s Make-A-Wish trip, a wonderful trip to New York for the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Also, Grace attended Camp Sunshine this summer, took a trip to Disney, and is now a high school sophomore. Life looks more “normal” every day. As always, we continue to pray daily that Grace will remain cancer-free and healthy.

By now you know our story, but as a reminder, here is a glimpse into our lives when Grace was diagnosed. Back in February of 2012, Grace complained of pain above her right knee, believing she had been kicked during a soccer game. For several weeks, we sought treatment at a chiropractor, treating her pain as a sports injury. Eventually, however, we made our way to an orthopedic sports medicine doctor the Friday before Spring Break began. After just one x-ray, he knew that this was no sports injury. In fact, I was told Grace had either an infection or a “growth”, and he wanted her to have an MRI immediately. After asking Grace to leave the room, I asked him if by growth, he meant tumor.  His answer was, yes. My heart dropped to my stomach. From there, our lives changed on a dime. We got a phone call from the doctor that night and our Spring Break trip was cancelled. Instead of Spring Break, we were scheduled for an MRI on Saturday and a biopsy on Monday. Hearing the doctor confirm our worst fears was nightmarish; there’s no other way to put it. But it wasn’t the hardest part. No, the hardest part was telling Grace, and then telling her older sister, Caroline. Throughout all we had to endure, so far, that day alone was hardest.

Once Grace was diagnosed, her road to recovery began. We very quickly completed scans, met her oncologist and learned what Grace’s protocol would be. We also learned about osteosarcoma, which is a bone cancer that occurs during a growth spurt, a genetic mutation that turns normal cells into abnormal cells. Typically, osteo occurs in males, African American. So, why Grace? In actuality, we’ve seen the disease in boys and girls equally, with no regard to race.

Soon, Grace had surgery for her port placement and began chemo treatment immediately. Our first walk to the Aflac cancer unit at Children’s Healthcare of Atlanta was heartbreaking. This was really happening and there was no going back. My heart truly broke for my child that day. I didn’t want her to have to endure what was coming – the nausea, being bald and missing out on so much. Throughout those long months of treatment, however, the unit became a safe place to land with so many wonderful nurses who came to mean so much during that time. And CURE was always there, with information, meals, smiles or just someone to talk to.

Grace endured so much, but we have come so far. For now, she has scans every three months and we follow up with her surgeon every six months. I recall asking Grace if she ever wondered why she was chosen for cancer. Her answer, “No, I know it’s God’s plan for me.” That’s my wise child, so strong.

Screen-Shot-2012-09-07-at-1.56.52-PM27-150x1503Although the road of cancer was incredibly difficult, we have much to be thankful for: Grace is cancer-free today, her leg is 98% healed, and she is enjoying life fully. We also continue to be grateful for the wonderful doctors and nurses at Scottish Rite, the support of family and friends, and the support of organizations like CURE Childhood Cancer – which works here in Atlanta to find a cure for childhood cancer. They also provide patient and family support on an ongoing basis. Please consider giving to CURE, for Grace and so many others like her.


September 24th, 2014

CURE Childhood Cancer Honors Griffin Sewell

September is National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Join us today, September 24, 2014 as CURE Childhood Cancer honors CURE Kid Griffin Sewell. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time! Donate to Griffin’s fundraising page. 

Griffin Sewell Photo“I don’t feel well.” That’s the start of Griffin’s cancer journey. Griffin had a fever of 102 and a recent flu mist vaccine. We had a doctor visit the next Monday that determined a probable vigorous reaction to the vaccine. Thankfully, his strep test was negative. On Thursday, Griffin’s temperature was still 100 plus so we decided to schedule a second doctor’s appointment. During that appointment they did some blood work, which came back fine. Next, they decided to check for mono and get a chest X-ray for possible pneumonia. Both came back negative.

Friday, I was convinced that he had Lyme disease due to a recent rash that I thought was ringworm. The doctor saw us a third time and started us on an antibiotic. One week to the day on Sunday, he still had a fever of 102-103 with no other symptoms. His older cousin thought he was “not really sick – just faking it.” On Sunday evening, he started having severe stomach pain. We knew for sure he didn’t have appendicitis because we had been through the exact same pain scenario in 2011 that resulted in an emergency appendectomy. So, we headed off to Urgent Care where they did some blood work. His blood work revealed his hemoglobin was low. Then the doctor felt his stomach and his liver was enlarged. Crazy! Maybe it was a gallbladder issue: but in a 14 year old?

Next, we went to the hospital for more blood work and a CT scan. Griffin’s blood work was good but his CT showed a liver mass. Our next stop was Egleston on an ambulance at 3 am. An MRI revealed acute liver hematoma. Our surgeon wanted to monitor Griffin for a few days, go home and repeat MRI in two weeks. Griffin’s blood work remained negative for any other issues including cancer markers – they thought a second MRI would show a benign tumor requiring surgery.

During the second week home, the pain returned. The repeat MRI showed that the “mass” had increased by 20% – not good. We were admitted to the hospital and a surgical plan was formed. The pain intensified daily and surgery wasn’t a second too soon. Griffin had a twelve-hour surgery. The right liver lobe was removed during surgery. Fortunately there were no complications.

Then, we got the terrible news – cancer – hepatic undifferentiated embryonal sarcoma (HUES). It’s not often that a kid has his chest cracked, delivers a ten pound tumor, donates sperm and gets ready to lose his hair in a two month time period. Chemo started on December 16th. A total of 14 rounds using five different chemo drugs. His cancer is rare but the prognosis is good.

Screen-Shot-2012-09-07-at-1.56.52-PM27-150x1503A recent CT scan was clear. We are currently on round 12 with the last round in mid-September. Griffin’s visits to the hospital have coincided with Halloween, Thanksgiving, the Christmas holidays, New Year’s Day, Valentine’s Day, and Mother’s Day. He has been fortunate to have the most amazing surgeons, oncologist, medical and hospital support staff. There are many organizations who make cancer treatment bearable. Cancer is the worst word to hear; it’s astronomically the worst word to hear when it’s your child. I thank God every day for Egleston and for the amazing people who have touched our lives on this journey.


September 23rd, 2014

CURE Childhood Cancer Honors Shayla Miller

September is National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Join us today, September 23, 2014 as CURE Childhood Cancer honors CURE Kid Shayla Miller. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time! Donate to Shayla’s fundraising page. 

Shayla Miller PhotoPeople say that children are “sensitive” to angels and spirits around them. Several weeks prior to Shayla being diagnosed with cancer, she was a normal three-year-old girl.

One day now stands out to me: we were riding in the car and she was talking to herself aloud. I asked, “Baby who are you talking to?” She replied, “The girls in my head momma.”

Several days later she was talking to herself aloud and I asked the same question. She replied again with, “the girls in my head momma.”

At the time I was working at a mental state hospital in Gainesville and was concerned that there was a problem. Can children “hear voices?” So one day I asked her, “Shayla where are these girls you are talking to?” She replied so sweetly and innocently, “They are talking to me in my head.”

Becoming more concerned I asked, “Are they on your head?” “No, silly momma they are inside my head talking!” she said, surprisingly, with a slight bit of anger. Later that week she was by herself in the dark hallway, talking. I confronted her with a slight bit of sternness in my voice and she replied, “I am taking to MY Jesus!” “What are you talking about, sweetheart?” “You just wouldn’t understand momma.”

August 18, 2010, Shayla was not feeling well so I took her to see her pediatrician. She was given an antibiotic for strep throat. On August 25th I took her back to her pediatrician for her recheck and she was given a clean bill of health. She had an amazing weekend, but then started vomiting more and more. I took her to the emergency room at our local hospital and on August 30th they diagnosed Shayla with pneumonia. She was given an antibiotic and we were sent home.

On my way to work on September 2, 2014, my mother called and said that Shayla was not doing well. She would not stop vomiting or screaming in pain. I rushed home and called her pediatrician who said, “Give her a popsicle, it’s just a virus, it will work itself out.” I screamed at her doctor, “Can’t you hear her screaming in pain? Something is wrong!”

I decided to take Shayla back to the ER. We sat there for hours and several people gave up their spots for my daughter to go ahead of them, seeing her pain. The ER doctor listened to her chest and said she does not have pneumonia. Why was I told two days ago that she did have pneumonia? They couldn’t answer my question and she was admitted for unexplained vomiting and dehydration. That evening her father and I sat with her in the hospital room. We were both so concerned and confused as to what was going on with our little girl.

That evening as I was lying with her in the bed she said something to me that I couldn’t understand. I looked at her and she looked right past me; almost like she was looking through me. Her father went and got a nurse and they rushed us out of the room and started working on her. They called the flight team to come and airlift her out; she was unresponsive. I remember one of the flight team members making me promise that I would not follow them. “Wait 20 minutes and then you can leave. Do not follow us for your safety and for Shayla’s.” I promised him that I would not follow and I would wait.

As soon as we arrived at Shands Hopsital a team of doctors took us into a conference room and explained that Shayla was postured out really bad when she arrived. That is a sign of pressure on the brain and she was already having scans completed. While they were explaining what the cause might be, they received a call. The CT scan showed a mass on her brain; she was already in emergency surgery to remove the mass.

The mass was malignant; cancer. When these words were spoken, my heart dropped and my world stopped! Her neurosurgeon was the best of the best. When her surgery was complete, he came to tell us the good and bad news. The good news: the mass was removed with amazing margins. The bad news: it was malignant and she would need to go through chemotherapy to kill the cancer cells. I was in shock. I just remember him saying, “We do great saving children but we can’t save them all.”

The next couple of months were rough but Shayla was doing great! Her chemotherapy treatments appeared to be working! She was having her stem cells harvested very successfully. When her ANC counts needed to be up they were great! Because the placement of the mass – the base of the skull – it is common for the “basic” humanly functions to be disturbed. These include eating, talking, and walking. Shayla had lost her ability to talk, but she was finally talking again! She was doing great in physical therapy. All her nurses and doctors spoke on several occasions that Shayla was going to be one of their success stories. Then November 10, 2010 hit us like a storm.

As I was sitting in her hospital room, after she had an amazing day of play and adventure, she was extremely tired. She was facing away from me, rolled over and mumbled something. I couldn’t understand so I got up and went to her. That’s when I noticed that she was having a seizure. I pushed the “code red” nurses button and waited. Nothing. No one came. I left my fiancé with her and I ran down the hall, screaming “She’s having a seizure, she’s having a seizure!” I ran to the nurses’ station and there was ONE nurse. We ran to our room and I had to “bag” my own daughter. The nurse told my fiancé to yell down the hall for help. He did and still nothing. At this time Shayla was foaming out of her mouth and the nurse was trying to keep me calm as I held the oxygen to Shayla’s mouth and nose. Finally after several minutes a flood of nurses and doctors came into her room to help.

I called Shayla’s father to come to the hospital and we were in for a long, restless, worried-filled night. She had small seizures all night, so to save her brain they scheduled a medically-induced coma. An MRI had been done, she was still being monitored by the EEG and one doctor pointed out to us that the seizures were still happening even in the coma. The results from the MRI were now in and it was not good. Her brain was being affected by what is called “sugarcoating.” This is where small tiny tumors are on the brain and they “burst,” irritating the brain, causing seizures. She has several million tiny tumors on her brain which means the chemotherapy had not been working like planned. Just the previous day we thought it was working. Her oncology doctor was so impressed at her improvements and made a comment, “I didn’t think Shayla would be playing like this when we first met.” The doctors said we had a tough decision ahead of us. We can try and wake her up, but the likeliness that she would wake up was not in our favor. Or, we could let her go peacefully and in no pain. They told us that she had lost most of her brain activity and was continuously having active seizures, despite the medicines to stop the seizures and the medical coma. IF she woke up she would not be Shayla.

We did not like seeing our precious girl suffering or in pain. Her father and I asked several times over and over, “What are the chances she could over come this?” We asked so many times, hoping to receive a different answer. We never did. They explained to us she would never wake up from the coma and that her body functions were already becoming weak and not functioning properly. Shayla was already passing to Heaven. The question was how were we, as her parents, going to make her passage peaceful? So on November 13, 2010, we made the tough decision. Family and friends filled into her hospital room to say our last goodbyes to our precious little girl, who never got to celebrate her 4th birthday. I held her one last time in my arms while she slept so peacefully. I held her hand as the doctor turned off all the machines; she turned blue within seconds. I looked at him in panic and he whispered, “It’s ok, it is normal.”

Screen-Shot-2012-09-07-at-1.56.52-PM27-150x1503It happened all so fast. Within a matter of seconds my baby was gone. My precious baby whose birth lasted for many hours – over 15 hours of labor to bring this beautiful girl into the world – and it took just seconds for her to be gone forever. It is just not right. After all the tubes and everything were removed, the nurses asked if I would like to give her her final bath. She, with many female family and friends, bathed my precious girl one last time. We combed the tiny bit of hair that she had left, due to the chemo, and we washed her.


September 22nd, 2014

Collier’s Story

CURE Childhood Cancer is honored to share the story of CURE Kid Collier Cayce. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time!

Collier Cayce Photo

During the late summer of 2012, Collier had a bump on his right tibia bone (his shin bone). Collier was 13 at the time and a very athletic kid who loves sports. We thought the bump was from hitting his leg while he was playing sports. In September 2012, Collier was having a great time playing football for his middle school and playing basketball with friends.

One afternoon, he came home from practice and his right calf was very swollen. He was not complaining about any pain or soreness in his leg, it was just really swollen. We took him to our pediatrician who looked at his leg and immediately sent us to the Emergency Room at the Scottish Rite campus of Children’s Health Care of Atlanta. They took an x-ray of his leg and told us he had an “anomaly” on his tibia.

The next day, we were contacted by our oncologist who said that they were very concerned about the “anomaly” in Collier’s leg. They wanted Collier to have a MRI for a closer review. The morning after the MRI, our oncologist called and said that there was a mass in Collier’s leg, which was very worrisome and needed to be biopsied.

The biopsy was done on September 21, 2012. We quickly learned that the tumor in his calf was malignant. The devastating news rocked our world. The biopsy results showed that Collier had a sarcoma that was attached to his tibia bone. We learned that the sarcoma was called Ewings Sarcoma, which is a very rare and aggressive form of bone cancer. After the biopsy, Collier had other scans and we learned that the cancer had spread to his lungs. Collier endured months of chemotherapy treatment that started October 2, 2012, and finished May 28, 2013. In addition to chemotherapy, Collier had 31 days of radiation on his calf and 10 days of radiation on his lungs.

Since he completed his treatment, Collier has been getting scans on his leg and lungs every three months. Because Ewings Sarcoma is such an aggressive form of cancer, Collier will continue to have frequent scans for years. Despite all the challenges since his diagnosis, Collier has been in good spirits and remained strong and positive. He has overcome many obstacles and shown an incredible amount of courage throughout this battle. He has been able to return to school and hopes that that one day he will be able to get back to playing his favorite sports. He is an amazing kid and a hero in every sense of the word.


September 22nd, 2014

CURE Childhood Cancer Honors Terry Milling

CURE Childhood Cancer honors CURE Kid Terry Milling. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time!

Terry Milling Photo

Thankfully a life continues even after the last goodbye has been said. I have the privilege of being Terry’s Mom. Terry was a “normal” precocious five year old girl when the Cancer Monster first reared its ugly head. That Cancer Monster would be a part of our lives causing havoc, in the forms of fevers, chemo, radiation twice, multiple surgeries, blood transfusions, platelets, g-tube, j-tube and lots of medications. Needless to say, we were on a roller coaster that did not stop until Terry lost her battle on July 1, 2009. This year marks the fifth anniversary of life without Terry. Part of me stills believes I will wake to a dream because it is unfathomable to think that there is still no CURE for Childhood Cancer.

As I write her story all I can think of is the number five. Five fingers make a hand and a hand means so many things to us. A hand waves hello in welcome something that Terry will never do again. A hand leaves a handprint which Terry did on the hearts of the people that knew her. A hand can be raised to solemnly swear that we will all do what we can to fulfill Terry’s dream- to find a Cure for Childhood Cancer. And a hand offers the donations needed to fund a CURE! Lastly I hope within my lifetime we can raise our hands in a massive high five to celebrate the CURE for Childhood Cancer!

Thank you for being a part of Terry’s dream. She was a fighter and she would be proud that you have continued her fight.

With Hope,

Terry’s Mom


September 21st, 2014

CURE Childhood Honors Kristen Sorrell

September is National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Join us today, September 21, 2014 as CURE Childhood Cancer honors Kristen Sorrell. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time! Donate to Kristen’s fundraising page. 

Kristen Sorrell PhotoIt is hard to believe that it is already the time of year when we come to you asking for your support for children battling cancer. Just when it seems that we no longer know anyone battling childhood cancer, the phone rings or the emails start pouring in. They come to us from former high school classmates who have learned of a friend whose two-year-old daughter has been diagnosed with leukemia. Instantly, people think of our family and reach out to us to offer them emotional support. Of course we are always willing to help in any way possible. I will admit that it is sometimes too hard to read much of what they post about the sadness they feel over watching their child endure such painful treatments that will hopefully save her life. Then the news of children who have been battling cancer for many years comes to us. Another little boy has gone to Heaven. Another teenage girl too. We wonder how it can continue to happen when it seems like so much is being given and so much research is being done.

The truth is that without you and other loyal supporters stepping up time and time again to make a financial donation, the kids don’t have a chance. There is great progress being made but it isn’t good enough until every child can be guaranteed a cure and even better a prevention of childhood cancer all together.

Screen-Shot-2012-09-07-at-1.56.52-PM27-150x1503We can’t thank you enough for your continued care and concern for these little ones. This summer marked five years off of treatment for our sweet Kristen. Please help us make that a reality for any child who receives such a difficult diagnosis in their young lives.


September 21st, 2014

CURE Childhood Cancer Honors Colton Moore

September is National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Join us today, September 21, 2014 as CURE Childhood Cancer honors Colton Moore. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time! Donate to Colton’s fundraising page. 

Colton Moore PhotoColton is an energetic 11-year-old boy who is battling a rare bone cancer called Ewing’s Sarcoma. He was diagnosed on November 27, 2012, after a large mass appeared on his left ankle. He was in no pain and was not complaining: still being a typical 10-year-old playing football and running around with friends. We took him to his doctor (foot and ankle) who did multiple scans and tests and soon decided to do surgery on November 19,2012. The mass was cut out and sent off to be biopsied. Little did we know eight days later we would be sitting in the same doctor’s office hearing those words no parents ever want to hear: your son has CANCER. What were we to do? In a blink of an eye, our world was turned upside down. His pediatrician was called and she set up an appointment with an oncologist at Egleston Children’s Hospital of Atlanta.

Colton has endured 12 out of 14 rounds of chemotherapy so far and six weeks every day (except Saturday and Sunday) of radiation. He has had numerous visits to the ER for fever, pneumonia, mucuousitis, pancreatitis, chicken pox and three bacterial infections, which put him in ICU at Egleston for nine days and on the oncology floor for 11 days.

CURE has been a great organization in helping families along the way and donating so much of their time to give to us and our sick children. We have a great support system and GOD has truly blessed us and been there the whole time. These children should not have to go through so much pain, pokes, sickness, chemo, physical therapy, radiation, anxiety, fear and missing out on life.

Please help this great organization that is helping families through trial times with much love and support!

Screen-Shot-2012-09-07-at-1.56.52-PM27-150x1503


September 20th, 2014

CURE Childhood Cancer Honors Sam Robb

September is National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month, Join us today, September 20, 2014 as CURE Childhood Cancer honors CURE Kid Sam Robb. Join our fight as CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer One Day at a Time! Donate to Sam’s fundraising page. 

Sam Robb PhotoEleven years ago when Sam underwent treatment, the awareness of childhood cancer was limited. We are thankful for September, National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Sam’s story is all too familiar to bone cancer patients. Sam was approaching his prime years as an athlete, and he incurred an injury, which we thought was sports-related. The random reality of childhood cancer was life changing.

Our family quickly learned the treatment protocol: chemotherapy, surgery to remove the tumor, followed by more chemotherapy. After a very long time waiting for the post-operative laboratory results, our reality was that the necrosis rate of Sam’s tumor was not promising. Additional chemotherapy, the only option at the time, was added to be more aggressive, and Sam underwent an 11-month treatment regime. In September 2003, we had hope with the revised treatment, and the revised treatment did give Sam time.

Sam’s appreciation for life and his determination not to be “sick” ensured that our family life continued to thrive, and today we have many happy memories of great experiences with Sam during the three and half years. He was healthy, full of life, and steadfast in his determination to be the part of a team in high school and college through his new focus on baseball. As we reflect, we have a true appreciation of the time we had with Sam after the diagnosis. Sam was always positive and hopeful, even up to the 2007 relapse that required an additional surgery. We can reflect on our time with Sam and appreciate his wisdom as a young man.

Our family works to memorialize Sam’s spirit to fight cancer, and provide hope to other families. When I look back to 2003, the research efforts dedicated to bone cancer were very limited. Possibly one or two doctors, nationally, focused on bone cancer treatments. Sam’s doctor, Dr. George, consulted with leading doctors outside the Atlanta area when we needed to re-evaluate Sam’s chemotherapy. Despite our diagnosis, bone cancer was statistically rare. Yet, when we look at our local community we know too many families who have fought a similar battle of bone cancer. We are touched that CURE understands the need for more sarcoma research to understand the causes of bone cancer. CURE continues to fund two Sarcoma Clinical Research Programs on efficacy of treatments: Ewing Sarcoma and Osteosarcoma.

Screen-Shot-2012-09-07-at-1.56.52-PM27-150x1503Today, your contribution of $25 or more to CURE’s Kids Conquer Cancer in Sam’s name will support both Sarcoma Research. The current budget for this research is $100,000 for one year. Our efforts will help the survivors of bone cancer, as well as the young patients yet to be diagnosed. The comforting phrase for a parent to hear when they confront childhood cancer is “the new research has identified…” Thank you for your support of these Sarcoma Research Projects with a contribution to CURE Childhood Cancer.


  • Screen Shot 2014-10-14 at 2.22.34 PM

    BLUE RIDGE TURKEY TROT 5K

    Register now for the 5K Turkey Trot in downtown Blue Ridge, GA, with a portion of proceeds benefiting CURE. in its 5th year, the race takes place Thanksgiving morning. Click here for more information or to register.

  • Screen Shot 2014-10-02 at 10.58.08 AM

    TOUR OF REMODELED HOMES

    On Saturday, October 18th, NARI Atlanta will host its 4th Annual Tour of Remodeled Homes, in the Northern Atlanta suburbs. Tickets cost $10 in advance and all proceeds benefit CURE. Click here to learn more.