My name is Madelyne, and my three-year-old was diagnosed with brain cancer in May 2024. She had a successful surgery thanks to the incredible team at Le Bonheur; we were transferred the following week to St. Jude where we will be for the next few months.
I’ll never forget how surreal it was to step on the St. Jude campus. I’ve been involved in fundraisers; my first full marathon was with St. Jude, but I never imagined myself there, especially for my baby.
From the first call I had with a lady named “Ms. J,” she asked me a few basic questions, directed me to an app, and promised me that they would take care of everything for me. All I had to do was SHOW UP and love my baby. There was something about the tenderness and sincerity in her voice that I will remember forever.
So that’s what we did; we showed up on June 5th. As we walked in the first day, there was a crane overhead at one of the construction sites, and Sullivan exclaimed with excitement, “Mommy, Daddy, Jesus is here,” because, as she pointed out, it perfectly made a cross, and she was right, He was there. We walked in and were greeted by a lady named “Ms. C,” who told us her survival story at St. Jude, a patient of 18 years, she’s a walking testimony of the incredible care offered. We met our nurse, who has a 7-year-old grandson, his dad also a patient at St. Jude. This was all on DAY 1, but it’s been the case every day since.
That first week at St. Jude, I wanted to be just like the other parents there. They were happy, hopeful, kind, and full of love for their kids. It made sickness feel normal, and with all the fun activities, the girls are actually excited to be heading back on Sunday.
The doctors, there are no words. Our oncologist Dr. Gajjar always meets us with a smile when we pass him multiple times in the hallways at appointments. He updates us on any new information, reminds us to be patient, gives us clarity and information we can process/understand, and somehow he completely has our schedule memorized. He will often remind us where we are headed next that day. He even makes us laugh, through his frankness, you find hope and positivity. Through his knowledge you find security. He’s reminded me that my only job in the whole thing is to love my children. I could spend hours digging away on the internet, but I don’t. I trust Dr. Gajjar and his team wholly and completely.
Our neurosurgeon Dr. Klimo, (who we affectionately named our new donkey after “Paul”) is our hero. When we first arrived in Memphis via ambulance after being given a devastating diagnosis. I was still waiting on Mitchell to arrive and I asked Dr. Klimo, “how confident are you in this surgery?” and he said, “it’s almost 8 now, I’m going to run down to the OR because I’ve got a four-hour surgery to do first. When I finish, we will get Sully in just after lunch, and I should have her back to you around 6”. When Mitchell got there, just before surgery, I asked him again, “how confident are you?” and he said, “in the surgery? (Laughed) and said I do these every day, and I’m not letting her go into the weekend with this going on”. The next Saturday we were at the zoo and my phone rang, I answered, and like an old friend he said “hey, this is Paul, just wanted to check on you guys” so I told him we were at the zoo and he asked for a picture of Sully and told me about how much his kids also loved the zoo. He’s reviewed scans, weighed in on our tests. I’ve texted him, and he’s responded, “just scrubbed out of surgery, looking at this right away”. One night we were on our “night walks,” we heard a car door close and there he was, at 7:45 PM. We’d received mixed information on a procedure, and he was there to clear it all up, and we all slept easy that night.
I share all of this as my story. But I’d like to think and believe this is every patient's story at St. Jude. We are at the very beginning of our journey, but we will spend the rest of our days finding ways to give back. And maybe one day, Sullivan herself will do so. She is already able to perform surgeries, access ports, give IVs on every baby doll. Our cup overflows with hope, gratefulness, and love that can only come from God.
This September, I’m joining the nationwide movement to honor Childhood Cancer Awareness Month and support those who need it most — ALL of the kids of St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital®.