CARE FOR CLARE: Help Superhero Clare Bear Beat Leukemia
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$8,600 raised of $50K
40 donations
❤️ MEET SUPERHERO CLARE BEAR
Clare is 33 months old. She has curly hair, the sweetest personality, and very specific opinions.
She loves rainbows, twirl dresses, sparkly shoes, painted nails, animals, dancing and salmon sushi. She decorates herself with colorful Band-Aids and proudly calls herself Superhero Clare Bear.
And every morning, she wakes up and says:
“Mama, Dada, I’m so happy to see you.”
She brings joy wherever she goes.
Clare loves art walks and stops to tell artists how beautiful their work is. She loves gymnastics and climbing. She’s a little city girl who wants to walk everywhere downtown, dance at festivals, explore museums and sit in coffee shops.
And every dog in the neighborhood gets a cheerful: “Hello, ruff ruff!”
She is joyful, curious, kind and very, very loved.
On August 13, 2026, everything changed.
Clare was diagnosed with B-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia (B-ALL).
She is 33 months old.
And for the next 33 months, she will be receiving cancer treatment.
A little girl who should be deciding which rainbow twirl dress to wear to her first day of preschool is instead beginning chemotherapy.
12 HOURS THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
It started with tiny red spots on Clare’s legs.
Then a few things that hadn’t seemed connected suddenly did: random pain, dried blood in her nose, and Clare asking to go to bed on her own.
Elise remembered hearing about the “glass test”: press a glass against a rash, and if the spots don’t disappear under the pressure, call the doctor.
The spots didn’t disappear.
Elise and Chad took Clare to the WakeMed Children’s ER. She was later transferred by ambulance to UNC Children’s in Chapel Hill.
After more testing, Clare’s doctor came into their room.
Elise looked at her and asked: “Just tell me. Does she have cancer?”
With tears in her eyes, the doctor answered:
“Yes. It’s leukemia.”
Elise remembers:
“When I heard, ‘Yes, it’s leukemia,’ I don’t really remember what happened after that. My world stopped.
I looked at my baby in bed, watching Paw Patrol, without a care in the world and ready for a morning nap. I just looked at her. My whole world. My whole world.
I wanted to trade places with her.
My poor little baby, who is so strong and so kind and so joyful, was about to endure a journey no child should ever know.”
It was about 12 hours from noticing the spots on Clare’s legs to hearing the word leukemia.
Within 24 hours, their 33-month-old Clare Bear had a port placed in her chest, a bone marrow biopsy and a spinal tap.
Eight hours later, she started chemotherapy.
THERE IS GOOD NEWS
Clare has B-ALL, the most common type of childhood leukemia, and her doctors believe she is standard risk.
She is receiving care at UNC Children’s, and so far, Clare is doing remarkably well.
She likes the attention, unlimited chocolate milk and, of course, the Band-Aids. She is impressed by the toys, DVDs and volunteers.
She even prefers her hospital gown because it has puppies and kittens on it.
For anyone who knows Clare, it will come as no surprise that she already has a reputation for being one of the sweetest little girls on her floor.
She is also still very much two.
When someone arrives with medicine or wants to take her blood pressure, Clare politely responds: “No thank you. Maybe later.”
Although Band-Aids remain a highly effective negotiating tool.
THE NEXT 33 MONTHS
Clare is currently in induction, the first and most intensive phase of treatment.
Her medical team has a roadmap. They have a plan.
But Elise and Chad also know that cancer doesn’t always care about plans.
The road ahead stretches from August 2026 through May 2029.
It will mean planned and unplanned trips to Children’s. Chemotherapy. Procedures. Bloodwork. Watching every fever. Waiting for results. Interrupted sleep. Fear. Hope.
And countless hours spent simply trying to keep Clare safe.
By the time treatment is complete, Clare will have spent half of her life kicking cancer’s ass.
She was supposed to start preschool.
Instead, because she will be immunosuppressed, traditional preschool and childcare are no longer options. Chad may need to stay home with her, or the family will need to pay someone experienced in caring for a medically complex child.
Neither option is inexpensive.
At 3 a.m., Elise worries about things no mother should ever have to worry about:
Will my daughter live? Will she go into remission? Could she get sepsis? Is she hurting? Does she understand what’s happening? When will she ask why she can’t go to gymnastics?
But there are things Elise doesn’t question.
She doesn’t question Clare’s strength.
Her resilience.
Her sisu — her incredible grit.
And she never questions how deeply Clare is loved.
Then another worry creeps in:
How are we going to stay afloat?
THIS FAMILY HAS ALREADY SURVIVED THE UNIMAGINABLE
That question carries even more weight because this is not the first medical catastrophe Elise and Chad have faced.
In April 2024, when Clare was only five months old, Elise took Chad to the hospital for what they thought was a bad flu.
It was pneumonia and severe septic shock.
At one point, Chad’s doctors told Elise there was nothing more they could do and that she should prepare for the worst.
Chad survived.
But he spent weeks in the hospital, including time in a coma. He had a tracheostomy and later had to relearn how to eat and walk.
He wasn’t able to return to work until September 2025 — 16 months later.
Clare was diagnosed with leukemia just 11 months after that.
Chad recovered physically.
The family was still trying to recover financially.
His illness had already devastated their finances.
The last time this family was in a hospital facing the unimaginable, Clare was five months old and Chad was the one they feared might not come home.
This time, it’s Clare.
And Elise and Chad are doing everything they can to carry her through it.
Now we want to help carry them.
WHAT 33 MONTHS COSTS
Elise and Chad did everything families are told to do.
They lived responsibly. They saved. They have health insurance.
But no family can reasonably prepare for two catastrophic medical events in two years.
Their family out-of-pocket insurance maximum is approximately $16,000 per year, and Clare’s treatment stretches across four calendar years.
We worked through the anticipated costs with Elise and Chad. Over the course of Clare’s treatment, this is what they may be facing:
- $72,000 — Insurance out-of-pocket costs across four calendar years
- $50,000 — Lost income
- $45,000 — Specialized care for Clare at home during the first year
- $15,000 — Meals, lodging and everything in between
- $10,000 — Transportation, approximately 12,800 miles
- $3,000 — Hospital parking
Approximately $195,000.
That number is overwhelming.
But in real life, it looks much more ordinary:
- $10 for another day of hospital parking.
- $15 in gas for another round trip to UNC.
- $175 for a day of safe care for Clare at home.
This fundraiser is not about extras.
It is about allowing Elise and Chad to make decisions about Clare based on what she needs, not what they can afford that particular week.
It means keeping the mortgage paid while Chad is beside his daughter instead of at work.
It means that when Clare spikes a fever at 11 p.m., they can get in the car and head to Children’s without first doing the math on gas, parking and bills.
It means giving this family room to focus on one thing:
Getting Clare better.
THEY WOULD NEVER ASK. SO WE ARE ASKING FOR THEM.
We are Clare’s grandmother, her aunt, and two of Elise’s closest friends.
We created this fundraiser because Elise and Chad shouldn’t have to.
They hate asking for favors.
They hate asking for help.
Normally, they are the helpers.
Right now, they need us to be theirs.
No amount is too small.
Every dollar removes one more thing from that 3 a.m. list.
If you are able to donate, thank you.
If you can’t donate, please share Clare’s story.
Text it. Email it. Post it. Send it to someone who knows Elise or Chad but may not yet know what their family is facing.
Every share introduces Clare to someone we may never reach ourselves.
We will post important milestones here, and you can follow Clare’s journey and receive more frequent family updates through CaringBridge.
A NOTE ABOUT CLARE’S PRIVACY: Elise and Chad have chosen not to share Clare’s face publicly online, and we are honoring that here.
You may see her curls, her little hands, her purple hospital gown, her sparkly shoes and plenty of Band-Aids — but not her face.
One day, Clare will be old enough to decide for herself what parts of her story she wants to be public.
Until then, we are protecting that choice for her.
33 MONTHS
Clare has been alive for 33 months.
Please help us carry her family through the next 33.
And when those months are finally behind her, we hope Clare wakes up, finds her parents and says exactly what she always has:
“Mama, Dada, I’m so happy to see you.”
And then Superhero Clare Bear can get back to the very important business of deciding which rainbow twirl dress to wear.
Thank you for loving Clare, supporting Elise and Chad, donating, sharing, and helping this family through the road ahead.
With love and gratitude,
Michele, Elise’s mom; Cassie, Chad’s sister; and friends Lindsay and Kristen
#CareForClare
Follow Clare's journey to beat Lukemia on CaringBridge
