This is Dean. He is my sweet and wonderful Nephew. When you look into his endless deep blue eyes you see a boy who is full of life, wonder, hope and curiosity. Those are all the things that I wish to see in him now, and forever. Unfortunately, last October, Dean got really sick. After 2 weeks of many tests, prodding, poking, biopsies, and diagnostic imaging, Dean was diagnosed with a very rare form of childhood cancer called "Langerhans Cell Histiocytosis", long for LCH. This type of Cancer is very tricky, so much so that everyone thought Dean had Mono (EBV virus) for three weeks before any doctor would take his symptoms seriously. But when things turned for the worse, a very smart family doctor sent my sister rushing to the Alberta Children's Hospital with a few words that no parens wants to hear " Something is really wrong with your child".



Dean almost died on that week of October 16th 2018. After special immunology treatments and a blood transfusion he came back to us, but this time with a frightening and unbearable diagnosis of Cancer. LCH can come in many different forms, but unfortunately Dean has it in it's worst form: Multi-system, which means it affects not just one physiological system but many. Initially it was his skin, liver, spleen, and bone marrow. My sister and her husband Golan received the kind of news that no one wants to ever hear or even speak of. It meant their whole life, along with Dean's sister Orianne,  would never be the same. It meant that after only 6 months in Canada, all their hopes and dreams burst in front of their eyes like a bubble...just like that...pop. My sister had just started a new job, and her husband wasn't able to work as he is new in Canada and was waiting for his PR card to be initiated. Orianne was just starting daycare, and Dean was starting to get good at walking.  I, along with my family, took his diagnosis very hard, because I could feel so much of the pain that my sister Diana was going through. I am a mom too and I still find it hard not to personalize the pain and feel it as though it is happening to me.





Dean was sick, and it wasn't a temporary thing, as LCH doesn't just go away like some forms of cancer with  proper treatment. LCH is here to stay, for life, each time transforming and manifesting itself in different way, like a thief in the night. LCH has stolen so many dreams from Dean, my sister and her family. The possibility to have a normal family life is non existent, each day is another day to get through, to watch Dean ingest another concoction of antibiotics, chemo meds, pain meds, antiemetic meds and neuropathic pain meds, in the hopes that something will help. From sleepless nights that go on for days, endless vomiting and diarrhea bouts, lethargy and fatigue, and days upon days of visits to the hospital. Port accessing that causes pain and anxiety, a clot in the port that had to be removed via surgery, multiple anesthesias for MRI's, CT scans, ultrasounds, X-rays, bone marrow, skin biopsies, and nights upon nights of rushing to the hospital whenever Dean has a fever above 38.3. The same routine continues on and on:

nights driving, port accessing, poking, antibiotics, blood tests, scans, admit, discharge, admit, discharge, emergency room visits, unit 1 (oncology), IV's, transfusions, pain and tears. Repeat. Repeat again. Reach the end only to go back to the start, only to go back to the end and repeat again. Nurses, doctors, hard conversations, decisions, tears, hope for remission, stay overnight, admit, discharge, a week or two of calm, sick again, fever again, muscles giving in, dean falling, dean tripping, neuropathic pain, hair slowly falling out to reveal a wider forehead, clinging on to hope that his hair won't all fall out at once, coloured striped hospital pyjamas, PPE, isolation rooms, gowns and gloves and face masks, friendly nurses in yellow gowns and blue gloves poking, smiling, giving hope to a mother who knows in her heart that her son is in pain and it isn't ending. Fear of the end. Daily fear of an end. 




It's been a year in October. We sit and wait. 6 months of chemo. No remission? 6 more months of chemo. Remission. 6 weeks later, the cancer is back. The doctors wanted to give him a 6 month break to gain some strength and to let his body heal and clear away all the poisons. The poisons that both injure him but ironically keep him alive. November 2019, we were hopeful but LCH robbed us again of the hope that Dean might live a little more with some calm and healing. Now it's in his bones, LCH lesions in his skull and arms and once again in his skin.  His spleen is once again enlarged and the oncologist says the chemo didn't work, a full year, everything he and they went through. Everything is back to square one. We need to try again, a harsher more toxic chemo, his beautiful hair that every nurse comments about is all going to fall out this time, and his pale skin will get only paler. Our Hearts are all broken as we all sit and wait for his Dec 02, 2019 chemo treatment to begin. This is it, if this doesn't work we don't know what will, nor do we want to start to talk about that. Every day is both grief and hope. Pain and healing. Love and loss. Anger and Joy. I can't begin to fathom what is ahead, and most of the time I am at a loss for words as to how to help, guide or support. I do not feel that what I can do is enough and this is why I am here. We have had a huge community of support, handing out love and prayers and good wishes. This time, we ask for a little more. 



Since Dean's diagnosis, My sister and her family have done everything to provide and give Dean and Orianne the best they could. The Children's hospital, along with Jewish Family Services has given donations, toys and financial support. Now there is no more help, and my sister and her husband can not just go to work like everyone else does. They need to be by Dean's side, daily, through all the treatments and all the aftermath that comes with cancer and it's side effects. We are reaching out to ask for funding support so that Dean and Orianne can continue to have a good life, and have all the necessities that children need. These funds will make sure that Orianne can stay in daycare and have the social and educational life that she needs as a little 4 year old, it will allow my sister and her husband to be able to focus on their children, and provide each other all the mental and physical support that they need to get through this terrible ordeal. The daily necessities that we all take for granted like clothes, diapers, food, toys and even gas for their car. Anything and everything this community can contribute will go towards sustaining Dean and his family so that he can be best  supported and loved while he battles for his life. With Dean's upcoming harsh cancer treatment and no remission in site, they need your help. Help to heal and to provide hope. I thank each and every one of you, on behalf of my sister and her family,  who will donate in whatever capacity you can to ensure that her family can stay afloat in these hard times. 

Please give us a path for hope. For healing for Dean. For stability and routine. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. We love you Dean.