“At first I thought it would be awful. I mean, what could be sadder than kids with cancer?”
Andrew couldn’t think of anything.
“But mostly, they’re still just happy, playful kids. Usually when I’m there I hang out in the game room, where they have toys and books and video games…and if it weren’t for the IV poles and bald kids, you’d have no idea it was the oncology ward of a children’s hospital. There’s this little boy named Max who has leukemia, he’s four, and every time I see him I want to wrap him up and take him home with me. He’s the happiest, silliest, funniest kid I’ve ever met.”
“Toys and video games? Can I get my chemo over there?”
She laughed. “No. But you could volunteer if you want to. Sometimes I have a hard time getting to know the older kids. For teenagers, it’s all about being able to connect with what they’re going through. They don’t trust me enough to let me in and get to know them.”
Andrew took a drink of water. “That’s not a bad idea. What do I have to do to get involved?”
“You have to pass a background check and take some required online training. I’ll send you the info, and you can look into it.”
He would. Even though his cancer journey was just starting, the outpouring of support from his family and friends overwhelmed him. It gave him confidence that he could make it through anything that came up, no matter how dire. If he could be that support to someone else, a kid, no less, simply because life had dealt the same hand of cards? Count him in.
Plus, it would give him the chance for more time with Lauren.
He’d take all of that he could get.