5K for 5 Kids - Nick

Today is July 12, 2012.

4 years ago today - on July 12, 2008 - at 9:35 pm, 8-year-old Nick Myers took his last breath here on this earth and the next one in eternity.

For those of you running the Color Run in Louisville in 3 weeks, remember Nick. Run for Nick. Let me introduce you:

Nick was 4-years-old when he was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL), the most common and, ideally, the most curable of the childhood cancers.

Nick, age 4

Nick underwent the standard treatment for ALL - over 3 years of chemotherapy. However, on March 22, 2007, one month before he was supposed to finish his treatment plan, his cancer came back.

More chemo ensued and he went into remission again - no more cancer. Three days before Thanksgiving 2007, Nick relapsed again. He had cancer for the third time.

At this point, the only chance for a cure for Nick was a bone marrow transplant. Over the next couple of months he underwent more aggressive chemotherapy and total body radiation to once again achieve remission. He had his bone marrow transplant on February 18, 2008.

Nick with his sisters, Sam (L) and Gabby (R)

Break the Grey met Nick and his family in May 2008 when we visited the children's cancer unit at the hospital to pass out Mother's Day cards on Mother's Day.

I distinctly remember Mother's Day 2001 when I sat in the playroom of one of the inpatient units at Riley Children's Hospital in Indianapolis, painting a flower pot with child life as a Mother's Day gift to my mom. When she left the room, I buried my head in my dad's chest and cried, because I didn't think it was fair that she had to spend Mother's Day in the hospital with me, separated by 2 hours from her other children. I felt helpless and guilty.

On Mother's Day 2008, I quietly knocked on the door to Nick's hospital room and delivered a Mother's Day card to his mom. We started talking, and a friendship was born. Break the Grey began taking meals to the Myers family and coming to play with Nick's sisters at the hospital to give his mom a break.  Later, his mom has this to say about Break the Grey:


“Break the Grey was such a huge help, and a huge blessing to me and my family. Volunteers from Break the Grey would come and fix us dinners, play with my other two children (who were also living in the hospital with me at the time) and did every thing they could to make our stay and time there easier. I will always be thankful for that. My son was very very ill, but he did remember visits, and toys, and play times. He knew that Mommy was less stressed because of these 'nice people' and though he didn't say much, his smile did." 

One of the most memorable and holy moments in my own journey with Break the Grey came the day before Nick died, as I sat on the floor of his dark, empty hospital room and held his sisters as hospital staff explained, using words they would understand, that the doctors were going to stop giving Nick medicine to make his cancer go away. Everything in me wanted to hold those girls, to run out of the room, and to take them away from the reality that was before them. In that moment I watched their souls grow old, and I watched the most gut-wrenching, beautiful display of love from two little girls to their brother. 

Nick and his sisters, shortly before he passed away

Just over 24 hours after I walked out of that hospital room, Nick passed away in it. 

Now, 4 years later, I'm running. We're running. We're running only miles away from the hospital where he died, to remember him and honor his family and the valiant fight they endured. 

This is what childhood cancer does - even the "best" childhood cancer with the "best" prognosis. Get ticked off - run against cancer. Run for Nick and his family. 

Learn about what we're doing here, and then sign up for the Louisville Color Run here.

Hoping, Believing, and Never Giving up,

Sarah