I got the truck back to the shop, headed home to change my clothes, and jumped into my SUV. On the way to the hospital, I stopped by my brother Greg’s house, just a few blocks away, to see if our parents were there. Maybe one of them could go with me to the hospital. When I pulled up at Greg’s, I was surprised to see Jim, who was supposed to be at work soon. He had stopped in to let Greg’s dog out. Jim wasted no time sizing up my state of mind.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he said as he leaned down to get a good look at me when I rolled down the window.
“Emily’s sick. She’s got bruises all over. The doctors think it might be leukemia,” I said.
“Aw, c’mon! Emily?” Jim said, his big voice booming as he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I’ve never seen a healthier kid in my life. It’s probably nothing. You and Kari worry too much.”
“I hope you’re right,” I said. I kept looking around. “Have you seen Mom and Dad? Where’s Greg? Maybe he could come with me.”
“I don’t know where anyone is,” Jim said.
“Well, I can’t wait for them,” I said, rolling up my window. I needed to hurry.
“It’s not going to be anything serious!” Jim shouted after me as I drove away. “Don’t drive too fast.”
I sped away, and hadn’t gotten more than a few blocks before my phone rang. It was Kari.
“It’s leukemia,” she said softly. “You have to get here. You need to be on the Life Flight, and the doctors want us to choose a hospital.”
I took in a big gasp of air.
“Okay,” I said, trying to stay calm. “We are going to deal with this. We’ll get through it.”
When I hung up I felt my chest tighten with fear. I started hyperventilating. I didn’t think I could drive to the hospital on my own. And then, at the stoplight downtown, I saw Greg coming the other way in a bucket truck. I called him.
“Pick up, Greg, pick up!” My call went straight to voice mail. I dropped the phone in my lap and started to cry. The cars behind me honked. I don’t know how long I’d been stopped at that intersection, but they did.
When I finally got on the freeway, I just floored it.
How will we handle this? I was going to have to be a different kind of father and husband in the months ahead. I would need to keep our family strong so we could fight this together. How would I do that? For now, I just needed to get to Kari and Emily.
Kari called again.
“The blood work shows that Emily’s blood cells are ninety percent leukemia cells,” Kari said.
“Ninety percent!” I repeated, in shock.
“Her platelets are really low,” she said. I heard the beeping sounds of the heart rate monitor and the IV alarm going off in the background. “She has no immune system right now. They gave her an injection of morphine for the pain. The nurses and the doctors are all wearing masks to protect her from germs. They said we need to take her to a children’s hospital to see a pediatric oncologist.”
“Do they want to Life Flight her because her life is in danger?”
Kari started to sob.
“Kari, Kari,” I said. “She cannot see fear in our eyes. She must believe that she can get better. We have to pull it together for Emily.”
The staff gave us a choice of two hospitals that could treat Emily’s leukemia, Geisinger Medical Center near Danville, Pennsylvania, or Hershey Medical Center. We decided on Hershey, which is affiliated with Kari’s alma mater, Penn State, after we called my aunt Laurie, who was in medical school there. She praised the pediatric oncology unit at Hershey, and her endorsement meant a lot to us in the middle of this crisis. Also, Emily was stable by then, so we could drive there without having to take a Life Flight. Aunt Laurie promised to meet us at the entrance.
I walked into the Clearfield ER waiting room and saw Pam and Kari’s dad, Robin. Pam had come with Kari and Emily to the pediatrician that morning and I was so grateful Kari had her for company. Pam is petite and reserved, like Kari, with a heartfelt pragmatism. Kari later told me that when the doctor said that Emily had leukemia, she turned to look at her mom and took strength from how calm and steady Pam seemed, taking in everything the doctor said and letting it settle before she expressed an opinion. Kari said she didn’t break down until her dad arrived. Kari had fallen into Robin’s arms and let him support her. I thanked Robin for being there when I could not, and then I entered the hospital room where Emily and Kari were waiting for me.
I was surprised to see Emily smiling. The morphine took away her pain but had not dulled her spirit. Emily sat like a princess on her throne, propped up by many pillows, watching cartoons and drinking ginger ale, her favorite. When I smiled at Emily, Kari broke into a small smile, too.
I sat at Emily’s bedside and took her arm.
“I know you’re in a lot of pain and all of this is very scary,” I said.
“I’m not in pain right now!” she said, smiling.
“Good, good,” I said. “Your mom and I are going to take you to a different hospital because some of the
