I have to record my experience at the Hope Lodge
I guess I just couldn't bring myself to write about it on my blog while I was there. Some of you have read this before, but I wanted to record it here.
I have been through the most humbling, and inspirational week of my life. The American Cancer Society's Joe Lee Griffin Hope Lodge is where we stayed while I had my treatments. I met, hung out with, had meals with, laughed with so many people with cancer and their families. And they all had this amazing strength, this complete refusal to give in to cancer or anything it would seem to represent. Some people were fighting it for the third or fourth time, but it didn't matter. They met each new treatment with courage, humour and what I can only describe as total tenacity. These people were fighting for their lives, and the lives of their loved ones. And they were doing it with such grace and such love. No one could focus on their own pain because everyone was so concerned about everyone else. I am changed forever. My opinion of humanity has changed forever.
The advances that have been made in the last few years have really given us hope, and that's what I was seeing, the stirrings of hope in the war against a disease that has for so long been a death sentence, but that now is not.
The kids tore my heart out though. Alana is 3, with all the energy of any 3-year old, and has been given about a 15% chance of making it. Don't mess with her though when she wants something; she'll give you a look that her great-grandmother (who was her sole care-giver while we were there) describes as "the evil eye". Too cute. Literally, way too cute.
Jessica is 10, a gorgeous African-American girl who never met a stranger. The cancer behind her eyes has taken one of her eyes and she's undergoing treatments to try and save the other one. It has affected her mind in many ways, one of which is that she has become telepathic. She told me what I was about to say to her on more than one occasion. I don't know if anyone else knows. Her mother calls her stupid, and crazy to her face every day. I wanted to sit her mother down and try to talk some sense into her, but I just made a point of disagreeing; she isn't crazy; she's special...Before I left I bought her a gigantic costume ring; big enough for her to be able to see it, and told her that it was a special ring for a special girl, and that she could do anything she wanted to in this world. I can't stop thinking about her.
Conner is 7, going on 30. He doesn't have cancer; his mother does and he is the only one available to take care of her during the week. The chemo has taken away her ability to walk now. Mike ran into him in the hall the day before we left and said "How're you doing, Conner?". He said, "Not so good. Mama fell again today". And I swear to you the next words out of that sweet child's mouth were, "How's Anna?".
If there was ever a good cause, the Hope Lodge is it. The accomodations were so nice. We had our own hotel room with bath. The common kitchen was enormous, with at least 4 stoves and sinks, and two huge food prep islands. We had our own big bins in the room-sized refrigerator and freezer, and a big locking cabinet just for our pantry food. In addition to a huge dining area, there was a roomy screen-in porch with tables and comfortable outdoor furniture. You could look up and see the Vulcan statue further up the mountain, or look down on the city of Birmingham. What a view. I ate my breakfast outside every day. The lodge also offered transportation several times a day to any of the local hospitals where anyone might need to go for treatments. The Susan G. Komen Foundation had donated phone cards so that we were able to make long distance calls.
The address, just in case anyone reading this might want to make a donation, is:
Angelia Taylor
Director, Joe Lee Griffin Hope Lodge
1104 Ireland Way
Birmingham, AL 35205-7010
I will probably write more as I process the experience. Right now my fingers are a little sore from typing. ;)
I have been through the most humbling, and inspirational week of my life. The American Cancer Society's Joe Lee Griffin Hope Lodge is where we stayed while I had my treatments. I met, hung out with, had meals with, laughed with so many people with cancer and their families. And they all had this amazing strength, this complete refusal to give in to cancer or anything it would seem to represent. Some people were fighting it for the third or fourth time, but it didn't matter. They met each new treatment with courage, humour and what I can only describe as total tenacity. These people were fighting for their lives, and the lives of their loved ones. And they were doing it with such grace and such love. No one could focus on their own pain because everyone was so concerned about everyone else. I am changed forever. My opinion of humanity has changed forever.
The advances that have been made in the last few years have really given us hope, and that's what I was seeing, the stirrings of hope in the war against a disease that has for so long been a death sentence, but that now is not.
The kids tore my heart out though. Alana is 3, with all the energy of any 3-year old, and has been given about a 15% chance of making it. Don't mess with her though when she wants something; she'll give you a look that her great-grandmother (who was her sole care-giver while we were there) describes as "the evil eye". Too cute. Literally, way too cute.
Jessica is 10, a gorgeous African-American girl who never met a stranger. The cancer behind her eyes has taken one of her eyes and she's undergoing treatments to try and save the other one. It has affected her mind in many ways, one of which is that she has become telepathic. She told me what I was about to say to her on more than one occasion. I don't know if anyone else knows. Her mother calls her stupid, and crazy to her face every day. I wanted to sit her mother down and try to talk some sense into her, but I just made a point of disagreeing; she isn't crazy; she's special...Before I left I bought her a gigantic costume ring; big enough for her to be able to see it, and told her that it was a special ring for a special girl, and that she could do anything she wanted to in this world. I can't stop thinking about her.
Conner is 7, going on 30. He doesn't have cancer; his mother does and he is the only one available to take care of her during the week. The chemo has taken away her ability to walk now. Mike ran into him in the hall the day before we left and said "How're you doing, Conner?". He said, "Not so good. Mama fell again today". And I swear to you the next words out of that sweet child's mouth were, "How's Anna?".
If there was ever a good cause, the Hope Lodge is it. The accomodations were so nice. We had our own hotel room with bath. The common kitchen was enormous, with at least 4 stoves and sinks, and two huge food prep islands. We had our own big bins in the room-sized refrigerator and freezer, and a big locking cabinet just for our pantry food. In addition to a huge dining area, there was a roomy screen-in porch with tables and comfortable outdoor furniture. You could look up and see the Vulcan statue further up the mountain, or look down on the city of Birmingham. What a view. I ate my breakfast outside every day. The lodge also offered transportation several times a day to any of the local hospitals where anyone might need to go for treatments. The Susan G. Komen Foundation had donated phone cards so that we were able to make long distance calls.
The address, just in case anyone reading this might want to make a donation, is:
Angelia Taylor
Director, Joe Lee Griffin Hope Lodge
1104 Ireland Way
Birmingham, AL 35205-7010
I will probably write more as I process the experience. Right now my fingers are a little sore from typing. ;)
posted by Anna at 6:22 PM
1 Comments:
just happened across your blog. we're invovled in the ACS in our area, and wanted you to know that i pray that all goes well with you. may God bless you!!
~laurel, tennessee
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