Friday, April 4, 2014

The Cost of Cures (not Quilts)

For two days following Charlotte's chemo infusion, I have to give her a shot.  Two shots each week is not as bad as when she was an infant, and I had to give her two shots each day.  Having a sharps container and eight different medications on top of the dresser doesn't exactly make baby's nursery Pinterest-worthy, if you know what I mean.  But when a cancer diagnosis comes a'knockin', we moms throw aside Pinterest dreams; we buckle down and do the hard work that's necessary just to keep our babies alive.


This is hard to write because it's hard to face and most days I prefer just to live in denial. (And because what's the point of worrying about 100 different future possibilities?)  But the drug that Charlotte received this week is her third chemotherapy.  She's been on it for a year. If this one fails her (like the first two did), there aren't that many more to try.  And because of Charlotte's complicated medical history, she has even fewer to try than the "average" child.

So we need more novel therapies.  Drug companies are not going to pay for research, because there's not a market in pediatric brain tumors.  I'm a good capitalist, so there's no bitterness here.  It is what it is.  And the government is interested in using our tax dollars to cure the masses, so very little is set aside for pediatric cancer research (very little = 4% to be precise).  That's why it falls to grassroots fundraising to get support for the necessary research that will bring critical therapies for our children.


At Duke this week, we had a lovely time visiting with Layla and her mom and grandma.  Layla is the child who received this quilt when she was newly diagnosed at only 3-months old.  Just like my Charlotte.  I remember watching her mom and dad carry her infant carrier across the street as they left the hospital from her first chemo infusion.  I wondered then how they put one foot in front of the other just to make it across the street, as their dreams for their firstborn were suddenly, radically altered.  But they did.  And they keep coming to Duke each week to do what's necessary to keep the cancer from spreading, to keep their sweet child on this side of heaven.

Today, 13 more families will get the devastating news that their child has a brain tumor.  Won't you do what's necessary to keep our children alive?  Friends, it's time to up your bids.  This auction isn't about the cost of the quilt. It's about the need for cures.  So please be generous.  Be generous with your pocketbooks.  And if you cannot do that (I understand, I really do), then be generous with your voices.  A HUGE "thank you" to all who have spread the word about this auction via social media.  Only two more days remain. Can we up our bids today?  Can we get the word out even more?

Click here to see all the quilts that are on auction until Saturday, April 5, 2014.

P.S. A note about the closing times: the quilts are set to close at staggering times throughout the day (every half hour) on Saturday, April 5.  This means that if you miss out on your favorite quilt, go ahead and place that high bid on your second or third choice.

Copy of PBTF_5C_horiz_RGB copy
"Someone in your life needs a quilt, and someone in mine needs a cure."
  Charlotte's gRACE for a Cure 2014 Quilt Auction to benefit the PBTF


  1. Hi Lauren! My name is Heather and I just have a question about your blog! If you could email me at Lifesabanquet1(at)gmail(dot)com I would greatly appreciate it :-)

  2. Best wishes and hugs to you all. Happy Easter!


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