Category Archives: Patient stories

Henry’s story: More than a little bump on the head

Bruce and Amy Friedman appear with seven of their nine children, including 2-year-old Henry, in the family's 2013 Christmas card. (Photos courtesy of Bruce and Amy Friedman)

By Bruce and Amy Friedman

We took six of our nine children from our home in Omaha, Neb., to Minneapolis on Dec. 20 to visit their eldest brother, Ricky, who had taken a position in Minnesota. We were excited to see Ricky, do some last-minute Christmas shopping at the Mall of America and spend some good family time together.

After a long day at the mall, which included a visit with Santa Claus, we decided to head back to the hotel before meeting Ricky for dinner.

Our 2-year-old son, Henry, fell asleep in his car seat almost immediately en route to the hotel. We decided to wake him and take him to the pool, as he adores the water, pools, spas and baths.

Henry Friedman, 2, followed Santa Claus at the Mall of America in Bloomington, Minn.

Henry was excited to be at the pool with his brothers and sisters. He had been sitting on his daddy’s lap for a few minutes in the hot tub but clearly wanted to return to the pool where his brothers were playing. 

Bruce lifted Henry out of the spa, and, as he was getting out behind Henry, we watched Henry take two steps on the hard, slippery floor and his legs went out from under him, like someone had yanked a rug out from under his feet. It all happened as if in slow motion.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

Bottom. Shoulder. Head.

We were at his side in an instant. Henry never lost consciousness but was angry and scared. He cried. Bruce picked him up, consoled him and inspected every inch of his body — no marks, bumps, scratches or bruising.

Since he missed most of his afternoon nap, we decided to take him up to the room and let him rest before dinner. About 45 minutes later, we woke him up. He was cranky, but he walked, talked, ate and acted relatively normal, but he was agitated and tired.  Reluctantly, we decided to let him nap again rather than go out to eat.

About 20 minutes into his second nap, Henry broke out in a cold sweat. Bruce decided to rouse him but was unable to get him completely aware. He tried running a bath to see if that would wake him; we saw no reaction.

A light bulb went off. We realized that something major could be wrong. Bruce placed Henry on the bed and pulled his eyelid up. Henry’s right pupil was dilated. Bruce grabbed his cellphone and turned on a flashlight to see if Henry’s eye would react to the light.

Nothing.

Amy had left to pick up pizzas, so our daughter called her to tell her that something was wrong with Henry and that we needed to get to the hospital immediately. She was back in the entryway waiting when we raced Henry downstairs. Amy held him in the backseat of the car while Bruce jumped into the driver’s seat and set the GPS for the Minneapolis campus of Children’s Hospitals and Clinics of Minnesota, about 10 miles from the hotel. 

Henry is intubated in the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU) at Children's — Minneapolis in this December 2013 photo.

Along the way, Amy kept a close eye on Henry. He wasn’t fully conscious but was breathing.

Halfway to the hospital, Henry started to posture; his legs became stiff and rigid. When we arrived at what we thought was Children’s, we followed the signs to the Emergency Department, but unknowingly ended up in the ED of Abbott Northwestern Hospital on the same block.

We were whisked into a room and several people worked to stabilize Henry and assess his condition. Almost immediately, the ED physician said that he needed to go to Children’s and that an ambulance would take us there. They notified Children’s to assemble their trauma team.

Once at the Children’s ED, we met the neurosurgeon, Walter Galicich, MD, almost immediately. He told us that a CT scan and surgery were absolutely required to save Henry’s life.

Things moved fast from there. We followed Henry and the team from the ED to the CT scanner and then to the surgical area. The doors closed, and we were left in the waiting area; it was out of our hands. It was amazing that only minutes earlier we were just arriving in the ED.

After surgery, Dr. Galicich was guarded with his prognosis, simply saying we have to see how Henry comes out of it the next morning. What was clear was that Dr. Galicich and the quick work of the whole team at Children’s had saved our child’s life. We knew at this point that Henry would survive the injury, but we wondered if he would wake up, recognize Mommy and Daddy, speak, laugh, or even be able to walk. 

Henry smiles at his father, Bruce, while recovering at Children's — Minneapolis.

The next morning, in the pediatric intensive care unit (PICU), Henry was taken off of the medication that kept him sedated overnight and extubated. We were ecstatic when he cried and moved his extremities. That excitement gave way to more wondering. Could he see us? Would he recognize us? Would he sit up, walk and talk again? Day after day, Henry began picking up those basic life functions that the injury temporarily had taken from him.

Henry spent nine days recovering at Children’s. And each step brought excitement — then wonder — as to what he’d do next. All along the way we had wonderful nurses, doctors and staff share our joy, strive to make Henry comfortable.

Members of the various teams — including the trauma and neurological teams — answered our many questions day after day. They were patient with us and loving and caring with Henry. It wasn’t an easy job, either — dealing with parents who had almost lost their 2-year-old, and Henry, who was angry, hurting and scared.

Soon, Henry began to sit up on his own in a wagon, lift his sippy cup to his mouth and was saying “Mommy” and “Daddy.” We were able to transfer him ourselves to a pediatric rehabilitation hospital in Lincoln, Neb., on Dec. 30.

Henry spent 23 days there, but he’s home now and continuing to make progress. We are hopeful he will make a full recovery.

A CT scan shows nearly one-third of Henry's skull filled with blood, causing severe pressure on his brain.

The day before we left Children’s, Dr. Galicich came by to see Henry. He was happy to see how well Henry was doing and amazed at the recovery he had made. At that time, he told us how serious the injury was — when Henry fell and hit his head, it caused an epidural hematoma, a brain bleed. Nearly a third of his skull had filled with blood, causing severe pressure on his brain. It’s quite unlikely that an adult would have survived the injury, and we probably were mere minutes away from losing Henry.

In addition to the wonderful care they gave Henry, the staff at Children’s took the time to assure us that there were presents in his room on Christmas morning, and that we, his parents, had a place to stay in the hospital or nearby. They reminded us to take care of ourselves (get enough sleep and enough to eat) so that we were able to take care of Henry.

Our family is tremendously indebted to the doctors, nurses and all of the staff members at Children’s. Thank God that this facility was close, that a neurosurgeon was in the hospital when we arrived and that everyone there knew how to provide our child with the best possible care.

———

What to do in the event of a traumatic brain injury

According to Meysam Kebriaei, MD, a pediatric neurosurgeon at Children’s, if your child experiences any kind of head trauma, keep an eye out for the following signs and symptoms: 

  • Loss of consciousness
  • Progressive and worsening headache
  • Lethargy or fatigue
  • Vomiting
  • Increased irritability
  • Post-traumatic seizures
  • Post-traumatic memory loss
  • Unequal pupils
  • Weakness on one side of the face or body

Should you notice any of them, it’s best to bring your child in for an evaluation by a medical professional.

Gavin’s story: An update by Nicole Pierson


By: Nicole Pierson

As we approach Gavin’s 17th surgery, we do so with sadness, hope, determination and caution

Gavin Pierson is a 7-year-old patient at Children’s Hospitals and Clinics of Minnesota. His journey began on April 7, 2012 after an unexpected brain tumor diagnosis. Gavin is a tough, brave boy with hopes and dreams. These dreams start with one day winning the battle against his brain tumor, who he has named Joe Bully.

Gavin’s journey has been filled with countless ups and downs. Last year, we hit an “up” when Gavin was granted compassionate use of a drug called Palbociclib, which is made by Pfizer. He’s the only child in the U.S. using the medicine, and it has stopped the progress of his fast-growing, benign tumor.

Then in October, Gavin was the first patient in the Upper Midwest to undergo a laser ablation surgery at Children’s for his brain tumor. He’s the only person in the country to have a mature teratoma successfully ablated with this laser technology.

After the procedure, Gavin did well and quickly bounced back. He was on the mend and doing well until Nov. 20, when we brought him into the ER. Gavin had complained of tingly feelings in his arm and leg along with sudden speech problems. The right side of his face was paralyzed, and he suddenly couldn’t speak coherently. Once in St. Paul, a CT scan showed no abnormalities, and Gavin was admitted overnight. The next morning, an MRI showed a serious and extensive blood clot in many veins in his head. The clot could have caused a stroke, bleeding, coma or death. He was put on blood thinners and remained hospitalized for almost two weeks.

Gavin was tested for a blood disorder that might be causing the clots, but nothing was found. The clot is not believed to be a result of the laser procedure, but instead has become a separate hurdle that has developed slowly over time. Given that this clot is the second Gavin’s had in two years, he will likely be on blood thinners for a long time.

After gaining strength, energy and improving his physical abilities, Gavin required steroid treatment to decrease the blood clot swelling. While the steroids are necessary, they have so many negative side effects, including weight gain, muscle weakness and mood change.

As we fast-forward to today, we’re thrilled to share that Gavin has improved significantly and is ready to continue his battle against Joe Bully with another laser ablation procedure. This amazing technology allows the surgeon to repeat treatments without a limit. Our hope is that this surgery will knock the bully down further than before. Of course, our hope is that it will eliminate the last of Gavin’s brain tumor, but there are no promises. Gavin’s medical team can’t guarantee this will be the last as Gavin is the first for so many things.

Although it would be nice to have a predictable disease, having options and hope is better than the alternative. A year ago, our hope was slipping away. Today, we have a medicine and a surgical technique that complement each other. And we are thankful for the amazing care Gavin has had and continues to receive at Children’s.

If you can believe it, Gavin is excited for surgery. He wants to win this epic battle against Joe Bully and he has an amazing army supporting him. He inspires everyone around him, and he has inspired us as his parents to fight harder even when it seemed we had no options left. He’s overcome obstacles that only superheroes could have toppled and he’s amazed his doctors and care team over and over again. Gavin’s inspiration drives all of us to continue fighting and never give up.

As we approach Gavin’s 17th surgery today, we do so with sadness, hope, determination and caution. Sadness because we never imagined this life for our son – who was perfectly healthy for almost six years; hope that this procedure will cure him and give hope to other families in the present and future; determination to beat Joe Bully; and caution because we have to tread carefully on this journey, making all the right moves and not losing sight of our goal.

This is our story. Thank you for being a part of it.

Living with congenital heart disease: One man’s “game plan”

Matt Ames is a 30-year-old from Minneapolis, Minn. He is a small business owner. He is a camp counselor. He is a self-proclaimed “freak athlete.” And, born with a congenital heart defect, Matt is also an adult being treated at a children’s hospital.

Matt was born with levo-Transposition of the great arteries. Today, several open heart surgeries and two pacemakers later, Matt is still a patient at Children’s Hospitals and Clinics of Minnesota – the largest pediatric cardiovascular program in the Upper Midwest and recognized by U.S. News & World Report as one of the best children’s hospitals in the nation for cardiovascular care – and continues to receive treatment at the same facility, by the same nationally-renowned medical team, as when he was born.

“It’s eye-opening what they can do now,” says Matt. “Not so long ago I would have been considered lucky to be alive. Yet today, more and more children are able to survive this condition and go on to lead healthy, full lives. Technology and newfound disciplines have come so far.”

Until only recently, infants born with congenital heart defects weren’t expected to live past their teens. About 1 in 100 kids are born with a heart defect, but thanks to the advances made in congenital cardiac surgery, many are growing into adulthood.

“In the last year alone we had upwards of 250 patients in the clinic, and many of them were just like Matt – adults that were treated as children for congenital heart defects. It’s great to see so many of them living healthy, active lives,” said Dr. Chris Carter, pediatric cardiologist, Children’s Heart Clinic.

“In addition to caring for thousands of pediatric heart patients each year, what makes Children’s special is that we have a dedicated team of doctors to work with adult patients. It’s an incredible, growing field, and our specialists are some of the best-equipped to treat and care for hearts of all ages and sizes. In fact, one of our oldest patient is in his 70’s!”

As founder and owner of MN Pro Paintball, Matt does not allow his heart to define him. A company he launched upon graduating from high school, he has since grown the business to include a 200-acre outdoor paintball park in Lakeville, retail stores in Burnsville and Minnetonka, as well as an online store. He was also named the 2012 Minnesota Young Entrepreneur of the Year by the U.S. Small Business Administration.

Matt also does not forget how fortunate he is. Upon receiving a pacemaker transplant in 2008, Matt decided he wanted to give back to Children’s. Thus, the Challenge for Children’s (C4C) Big Game was born. Since the first annual event more than five years ago, a charity paintball event that has grown from 200 players to more than 700, MN Pro Paintball has raised more than $140,000 for the cardiac unit at Children’s.

“Being born with a congenital heart defect is often a heartbreaking diagnosis for parents,” adds Matt. “And undoubtedly for the child, it can be a challenging road to travel. Fortunately for me, and for so many others like me, there are places like Children’s and excellent medical support systems to help us succeed along that road.”

Matt gives a first hand account of his journey and shares more about the Challenge for Children’s Big Game here

Hearts of thanks: A note to the epilepsy unit at Children’s – St. Paul

Children’s Family Advisory Council has designated this week as Hearts of Thanks week as a way to say thank you and recognize all Children’s staff for the difference they make to them during their experiences in our hospitals and clinics. This week we’ll share some of the letters and stories from families about how our staff has been there to lend a helping a hand, a shoulder to cry on or an encouraging word during some of the most difficult times in their lives. On behalf of the Family Advisory Council, thank you to all of our team members for all you do to brighten the days, and the lives, of our patient families.

We choose Children’s for the mix of services we can utilize for our son with multiple health care needs. This week, I want to say thank you to the nurses in the Epilepsy Unit. Sam has been inpatient for several different rounds of testing and to start the Ketogenic diet. As we started the diet, there was a steep learning curve for us as Sam’s chefs.  Our nurse, Pat, took extra time to sit and answer questions, to share ideas about what other families had done, helped us prep the food, and then watched while we learned how to do it on our own. She made sure we were ready to handle the transition from full support in the hospital to independent management at home. It wasn’t a dramatic moment, but it was at a period of time when so much was changing for Sam in terms of medications, he was having frequent trouble with pneumonia, and his overall health status was deteriorating. I felt overwhelmed and adding in more new requirements to Sam’s care regimen was daunting. The support from the nurses, and Pat in particular, made that transition easier and empowered me to feel more confident about continuing to care for Sam at home. Thank you for caring when we needed your help and supporting us when we were learning something new.

I also want to say thank you to the many people who smiled at us, greeted us, asked if we needed help, or gave us directions along the way. Many of you were housekeeping staff, maintenance staff, or in other non-medical positions. I want you to know your kindness is appreciated in addition to the hard work you put into making sure the needs of patients and families are being met.

Thank you for your commitment to kids, for your kindness, and for sharing your time and expertise to care for my son.

–Stacey Jenkins

Do you have a Children’s employee or team you’d like to thank? Share your message in the comments.

Hearts of thanks: Maisy’s story

Children’s Family Advisory Council has designated this week as Hearts of Thanks week as a way to say thank you and recognize all Children’s staff for the difference they make to them during their experiences in our hospitals and clinics. This week we’ll share some of the letters and stories from families about how our staff has been there to lend a helping a hand, a shoulder to cry on or an encouraging word during some of the most difficult times in their lives. On behalf of the Family Advisory Council, thank you to all of our team members for all you do to brighten the days, and the lives, of our patient families.

Dear PICU staff,

Imagine a young girl without a family by her side, when she was fighting for her life…facing one surgery after surgery another, alone. And then imagine a staff who took this little girl under their wing and gave her the compassionate and quality care she deserved. And then picture this same girl who is 6 years old now. Who, after 28 surgeries, a pacemaker placement and countless other procedures and hospital stays…imagine this same little girl filled with confidence, charisma and abounding enthusiasm and love to give. This is our daughter Maisy… who joined our family through adoption after living two years of her life without a forever family. Because of the love and quality care that Maisy received at the hospital, she is thriving, happy and ready to take on the world. I don’t believe that she would have a future as bright if she had not received such excellent and nurturing care. To you, we give you a heart of thanks!

– Julie Martindale

Do you have a Children’s employee or team you’d like to thank? Share your message in the comments.

Hearts of thanks: A micro-preemie’s journey

Children’s Family Advisory Council has designated this week as Hearts of Thanks week as a way to say thank you and recognize all Children’s staff for the difference they make to them during their experiences in our hospitals and clinics. This week we’ll share some of the letters and stories from families about how our staff has been there to lend a helping a hand, a shoulder to cry on or an encouraging word during some of the most difficult times in their lives. On behalf of the Family Advisory Council, thank you to all of our team members for all you do to brighten the days, and the lives, of our patient families.

Samantha turns 7 this week. She is a big girl who loves ice skating and dinosaurs, but she started out as a 1 pound micro-preemie in the Children’s NICU.

Thank you Nurse Marcy for caring for Sam at her most fragile and for showing us how to change diapers on our tiny, tiny baby. Thank you Nurse Mary, Nurse Heather and Nurse Peg for being our constants in our topsy-turvy 128-day NICU stay. You juggled schedules to be with us on scary days and called in to support us when you couldn’t be there.Your patience, advocacy and love helped us through the hardest time of our lives.

We are forever grateful.

– Michelle Jackman

Sam as a micro-preemie in the NICU and today playing hockey.

Do you have a Children’s employee or team you’d like to thank? Share your message in the comments.

Hearts of thanks: A letter to nurse Sara

Children’s Family Advisory Council has designated this week as Hearts of Thanks week as a way to say thank you and recognize all Children’s staff for the difference they make to them during their experiences in our hospitals and clinics. This week we’ll share some of the letters and stories from families about how our staff has been there to lend a helping a hand, a shoulder to cry on or an encouraging word during some of the most difficult times in their lives. On behalf of the Family Advisory Council, thank you to all of our team members for all you do to brighten the days, and the lives, of our patient families.

Thank you Sara – you touched our lives

Aug. 19, 1996, was the day that changed our lives forever. This was the day my husband, Tom, started a new job, and we all were so excited. You see, this job was the one that made it possible for me to quit my job to stay home with our three young children, Zachary (5), Cody (2 ½) and Hannah (10 months). The plan was for him to spend his first week in Boston training and meeting customers.

Aug. 19, 1996, was also the day I had scheduled to take Zachary in to see the doctor. Something wasn’t right and I wanted him seen. He was incredibly tired and cranky. He also looked very pale standing next to Cody, his summer-suntanned little brother. Plus, he had these pesky little bruises on his legs that I couldn’t figure out (I later learned these are called petechiae – a result of a low platelet count).

4:00 appointment. 4:30 blood draw. 5:00 cancer diagnosis, and by 6:00 p.m. we were already a “Children’s Family”. Tom was paged at a Red Sox game at Fenway Park to receive the phone call from his brother that Zach had leukemia and we were at the hospital.

It was a long, lonely night sitting in the hospital watching my beautiful boy sleep all the while knowing that Tom was alone in his hotel room in Boston, dealing with his grief alone because he was not able to catch a flight home until the morning.

The sun came up – a new day. That morning Zach and I met Sara Gernbacher. She walked into Zach’s room and introduced herself. She told us she would be Zach’s primary nurse.  This was the beginning of a very long road, and little did I know at that time, what an important role this person would have in our lives. She became more than Zach’s nurse; she was our guide, our comforter, our information source, our gentle spirited friend, and Zachary trusted her completely. She truly was part of our inner circle, and we are so thankful she came into our lives.

I’d like to share with you a few wonderful magical Sara memories…

Throughout Zachary’s treatment, she always took the time to talk one-on-one with him, listening intently to everything he had to say. She made him feel like there was no one more important than him. One memory stands out in my mind: one day that we were in clinic, Zach was very upset about getting a shot in his leg. He would have nothing to do with it. He hid under a table in the exam room. Sara crawled under the table with him, and just sat with him. She calmed him, reassured him. Within a few minutes she had his permission to move forward with the shot – right there under the table. Magic!

Later in Zach’s treatment, Sara shared great news with us. She was pregnant with her second child. We were thrilled for her, but also secretly wondered how we’d get through treatment without her. She assured us that her substitute would take great care of Zach, which she did. One day in clinic during Sara’s maternity leave, she surprised us by showing up at Zach’s appointment. She stopped in to see Zach, and to show him her new baby. It brings tears to my eyes to type this, remembering the tender moment shared between Sara and Zach as he said hello to her new baby girl.  

Over the course of our clinic visits, we discovered that Sara’s parents owned property on the same lake in Annandale that Zachary’s grandparents did. The Annandale 4th of July parade was an annual event for our family, and Sara’s too. Every year, Sara made a point to find us and say hello to Zach and our entire family. By this time, Zach was off treatment, so we especially looked forward to seeing her and her growing family.

These stories all took place several years ago. Zach is now 23 years old, and only comes to clinic once per year for his long-term follow up appointments. Sara, however, hasn’t stopped caring. Last January, Zach and I were in for his long term follow up appointment. We didn’t expect to see anyone we knew, since we had a late appointment – 5:00 p.m. As we were waiting to be seen, someone very special quietly slips into the room to say hello. It was Sara, and we all hugged – such a sweet surprise.

So here we sit, 14 years past treatment. We are thankful EVERY day for the wonderful care our son received at Children’s, and we feel truly blessed that Sara Gernbacher was a part of that treatment plan. Thank you Sara – we’re so grateful to you!

– Amy Bigot

Do you have a Children’s employee or team you’d like to thank? Share your message in the comments.

Zachary, New Year’s Eve 1996

Sara introduces Zach to Marit, her new baby girl.

Zachary today.

Share your photos during the flu prevention photo challenge

Flu season is now widespread in Minnesota and across the country. The Kohl’s Cares and Children’s Flu Prevention Project wants to know how you and your family are fighting the flu. You are invited to participate in the Flu Prevention Photo Challenge to show us how.

Here is how to participate:

1.) Snap a photo of you and/or your family fighting the flu. Examples include:

  • Getting a flu vaccine
  • Washing your hands
  • Covering your cough
  • Showing off your “I got vaccinated” sticker

2.) Post your photo on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram using #fighttheflumn

The challenge will run from Monday, Jan. 27 – Friday, Jan. 31. During that time, we encourage you to submit as many photos as you like. On Friday, we will choose, at random, five people who will each receive a Kohl’s gift card.

Good luck and happy snapping!

Gavin Pierson to ‘Lead the Team’

Gavin Pierson, 7, and his neurosurgeon, Dr. Joseph Petronio

In April 2012, Gavin Pierson was diagnosed with a brain tumor that he has since nicknamed Joe Bully.

Gavin, 7, has undergone chemo therapy, numerous craniotomies and, most recently, MRI-guided laser surgery to help obliterate the tumor. He also takes numerous drugs, and he is the only child in the country to receive the clinical trial drug, Palbociclib.

He’s in the second grade and loves math. In his spare time, he plays games, watches movies and visits with his family and friends. Before he was diagnosed, he was a gymnast and played T-ball. And, until his recent surgery, he ran and played football. With the help of his care team and loved ones, he’s trying to return to those fun activities.

“Gavin’s nemesis is Joe Bully. He bravely goes into procedures, scans, and surgeries knowing it is part of the fight,” said his mom, Nicole Pierson. “Superheroes have to look fear in the face and overcome it despite the difficulties that arise. Gavin’s journey has not been without complications. Yet every time a new roadblock comes up, he knocks it down. He tells us every day, ‘I will never give up the fight, and I will win.’”

We welcome Gavin and his family as he leads the Vikings onto the field before their Sunday match-up against the Detroit Lions.

Gavin Leads The Vikings Onto The Field   Gavin With Viktor the Viking   Gavin Hi-Fives Viktor the Viking

Katie’s story: Kindness can be its own special medicine

By Veronica Stoltz

If you‘ve ever stood by your child’s bedside hoping and praying that he or she will recover, you may have made a few bargains with “The Universe.”  Mine included a vow to pay close attention to the kindness extended to our family during my daughter’s lengthy hospitalization and a pledge to find ways to personally give back. 

My daughter, Katie, was born 15 weeks prematurely, weighing just 1 pound. She was incredibly fragile and her condition was precarious. She was ventilator dependent and developed a blood stream infection. At one point, a doctor warned us, her condition “could quickly become incompatible with life.”

Gratefully, Katie was no more ready to leave this life, than we were ready to part with her. She fought hard and overcame a host of complications. These included bronchopulmonary dysplasia, pulmonary hypertension and chronic lung disease. She also required laser eye surgery for severe retinopathy of prematurity. She needed 21 blood transfusions and was given paralytics with sedation to prevent her from using her precious energy for anything other than sustaining life.

But thanks to the attentive and expert care she received at Children’s Hospitals and Clinics of Minnesota, she became stronger each and every day of her 99-day hospitalization. And when she weighed just a whiff over 5 pounds, she was able to come home to our grateful family on Easter Sunday in 2009.

Now, four-and-a-half years later, Katie is a perfectly healthy little girl. She loves all things pink, “Hello Kitty,” and sparkly—and finding all three at once is nirvana! She loves to run, do somersaults, and work on her cartwheel techniques on the sidelines of her big brothers’ football games.

This fall, she will start kindergarten.  She will learn that the letter “X” is for X-ray, and be able to show her class one of her own. She will have an atypical baby picture to put on her “All about Me” poster, and she may bring some interesting hospital stuff for show-and-tell. But she will speak of all of these things in the past tense. Because Children’s helped her conquer challenges and realize her potential.  So now she can focus on more important things….like glitter and finger paint.

During the time when I truly didn’t know if my daughter was going to live or die, I felt like a live electrical wire which had been stripped of all of its insulation. I was ultra-sensitive to everything around me.  I was easily confused, worried, and overwhelmed. But I was also easily touched, amazed, and deeply moved.

Put very simply, I was extremely vulnerable. Most patients and their families are.

That’s why little things make such a big difference.

We are so grateful that our child and our family were not just “treated” at Children’s but “lovingly cared for.” There’s a big difference.

That’s why we’ve found ways to personally give back, and it has been one of the greatest experiences of our lives. It has strengthened and unified our family tremendously.

Giving back has helped us feel like we didn’t just go through a difficult medical experience, but that we allowed that experience to pass through us; transforming who we are and the value we now place on the things that matter most: love, family, life, and health.

Hardship is a great clarifier. So is service.

Compassion is contagious. It is the only thing Children’s infection control efforts can’t touch. Once you have felt its impact, you are smitten. You know that the smile you helped to bring to a child’s face is part of what is helping him or her to feel empowered to heal, and you want to be part of that anyway you can.

I give to Children’s partially because of my immense gratitude for Katie’s presence in our family, and partially because I know first-hand that “kindness” is its own kind of special medicine.

 

Katie is just one of the many fighters that Children’s is proud to care for each year, and we couldn’t do it without your support. Your donation helps us provide Minnesota’s kids with some of the best medical care in the world. From surgeries big and small, to cancer care, to innovative pain management techniques, nobody treats kids like we do. Thank you for your support today, and helping kids just like Katie.