If I could change careers again...

I always joke with my son, Ian, that I’m nearly 40 years old, and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. I’ve been a bank teller, television news producer, freelance newspaper reporter, sixth grade teacher, and currently a middle school librarian and community life pastor. After meeting the child life specialists at the hospital, I may just switch careers again. 

Well, probably not. 

But I do feel child life specialists are amazing people doing incredible work for families. I admire them so much. 

That first full day in the hospital we met one of the specialists,  Kaylee, who was very kind to Joy. She took a genuine interest in our family’s well-being, learning our names/interests and ways she could help us navigate this new reality of having a child with cancer.

One of the things I’ll always remember is she talked to our boys and their best friends about Joy’s diagnosis in kid-friendly terms and with such compassion. 

Around dinnertime on Tuesday, Joy was finishing up a procedure and was still sedated. Our pastors and dear friends, Shannon and Geno, drove up to the hospital. They brought our boys with them so we could hug them and see them and talk to them about Joy’s health. (They also brought us some delicious pizza and groceries!) 

Kaylee and another child life specialist sat down with Shannon, our boys, and three of Shannon and Geno’s boys and spoke honestly about what cancer is and how it will affect Joy. This took place in the lobby of the hospital. They gave the boys a book to explain chemotherapy and another book to show that we are connected even if we have to be separated for hospital visits. They handed our boys two stuffed animal monkeys with tiny red hearts and said they would give Joy them too, as a symbol that they’re united.

I can’t really put into words what it was like having the boys at my side while they listened to this child life specialist explain that their sister was really sick. She’d probably lose her hair. She would have to be really careful when around other people. I remember Cam asking, “Will she be o.k.?” Kaylee assured him the doctors are doing everything they can to make her better and she has a great chance of beating this. His body seemed to relax a bit after hearing this, but I could still see some sadness in his eyes peeking out above his mask. 

We were learning really quickly that cancer doesn’t just affect one person—it affects the entire family. It also affects those dear friends who are like family. 

The specialists gave all the boys construction paper and crayons and gave them a chance to make a picture to hang up in Joy’s room. It was a really sweet moment. I remember hugging the boys and kissing them goodbye not sure when we’d be reunited with them.

I can’t thank Kaylee enough for that night. And honestly, a child life specialist has been at every hard moment since then—bringing Joy a book to read so she’s distracted while a needle goes in her, explaining to me in detail what a port is on the day of her port surgery, and bringing me softer tissues whenever I kiss Joy goodbye as she’s whisked away for a lumbar puncture. They also planned a virtual holiday party with all the cancer kids at Comer Hospital which was one of our bright moments during December. 

Child life specialists are the best.