Today marks ten years since my son, Watts, was diagnosed with cancer. I remember the terror of that day felt like it was yesterday: my tiny baby being raced by ambulance to the PICU in Winston Salem, the doctors completely perplexed by what was going on in his small body, the wires, the tubes, the intubation, the masks, the doctors, the questions, the procedures, the septic shock, the absolute fear pounding in my chest. Dear God, let him live. He lived through that day. The cancer diagnosis—and even the grim prognosis—actually felt like… Continue reading a road map
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