Tonight…I am extremely moved to write this note with a very heavy heart, tears in my eyes—no, pouring down my face—and hope that those of you who read will be touched by this story and reach out, even if it’s only in prayer.
Thanks to the release of my book, RADIATE, a fictionalized version of what I went through as a teenage cheerleader with cancer, I am so much more aware of cancer in our society and how it touches so many lives. I dare any of you who are reading this to tell me you don’t know one person in your five degrees of separation who haven’t battled the disgusting disease. This August will mark thirty years — 30 years! — since I kicked the nasty invader to the curb and told it to piss off. Okay, it wasn’t that easy…the three surgeries, radical chemo, and extensive radiation did the trick, as well. As did the support, prayers, and concern of not only my family, but my friends, church, school, and the community in which I lived in. That was the only “social media” I had in 1982. Most of my days in the hospital were spent watching TV, playing Canasta with my mother, and wondering if anyone gave a lick or a damn what I was going through. (Even though I found out later they did.)
Social media didn’t exist. Blogging didn’t exist. Facebook and Twitter were nowhere to be found and their inventors probably hadn’t even been born yet. There weren’t charities or organizations to help families get through all the damning effects cancer has on a family unity. Okay, there was one. A certain fast food clown’s house that offered housing to parents of children going through hospitalization. However, they wanted my parents to mortgage our house and farm before they would even consider giving them a hospice for a night, a week, or a month. (Yeah, I’m still pretty bitter about that.) We were alone. Dealing with a potentially deadly–in the worse–and life-altering–in the least–disease that rose up from nowhere and attacked my very physically fit, fifteen year old body. I was a cheerleader. I was active. I was healthy. I wasn’t supposed to get cancer.
No one is. But we do.
So often in my life when more and more stupid things occur and provide road blocks in my life, I would always harken back to the summer of 1982 laying in a hospital bed in Birmingham, Alabama for two months and wonder, “why did I have to have cancer?” It wasn’t until I was in my early 20s that it hit me. I *had* to have cancer because it made me a better person. It made me stronger so I could face the even stupider obstacles yet to face me in life. Things that were a piece of cake next to defeating cancer. I had to have cancer so I could share my story of triumph and overcoming in the hopes that just ONE other person would know that they could beat it too…that they weren’t alone…that people cared…people were praying…and people were cheering you on.
As I sit here basking in the amazing reviews of my personal tome, I find myself back in those red and white Adidas sneakers that I wore. The ones I cheered in. The ones I limped in. The ones I overcame in. I’m back in those shoes because there’s another. Another girl suffering. Another fifteen year old cheerleader who is fighting cancer.
Her name is Madeline McTier and she’s an ACE All Star cheerleader in Atlanta. You can read about Madeline’s plight here at ACE’s website. Madeline has/had meningioma which is a diverse set of tumors arising from the meninges, the membranous layers surrounding the central nervous system or better known to us non-medical types as brain cancer. Surgery has been completed and her prognosis looks good. She will be going to Jacksonville, Florida for her follow-up treatment of chemo and radiation. Hmmm…Jacksonville was one of the choices that my parents had back in 1982.
You know what else Madeline has? Her family…sure. Her friends…most definitely. Her teammates at ACE of Atlanta, as well as the whole tribe of ACE gyms…heck yeah! Most of all, Madeline has social media and stretchy, long fingers of awareness to people who don’t even know her. People who’ll hear about the 15 year old cheerleader going through cancer. People who will stop what they’re doing and pray for a teenager’s healing. Yeah…Madeline’s got that in droves.
So, why am I posting this other than the obvious? Yes…I want you to pray for Madeline. Madeline McTier from Atlanta, Georgia. Pray for her doctors. Pray for her nurses. Pray for her technicians. Pray for her parents. Her parents most of all. Pray for her teammates and her friends. Pray for everyone in her life. Pray for your own kids that they don’t have to EVER deal with the horrors that cancer brings into your life. Tell everyone you know to pray for Madeline. Facebook it. Tweet it. Whatever it. Just do it. Hashtag it on Twitter so her friends and supporters can see that complete strangers are rooting for her: #PrayforMadeline.
Her gym is also raising money to help her parents with the exorbitant medical bills. In this day and age, these people are looking at over $1 million dollars in medical expenses. That’s nothing compared to saving your child, but still… If you’d like to help that way, contact ChrisTreherne@acetribe.com at ACE of Atlanta to get information on how you can contribute or purchase a #PrayforMadeline pink t-shirt.
What am I doing? You can bet I’m praying for my metaphoric cheer sister who is the EXACT same age as I was. I pray that she stays strong. That she never gives up. That she’s tenacious. That she’s as determined as I was to overcome this asinine disease and put her cheerleading uniform back on. That she knows she’s not alone. That she realizes there are strangers on this big blue planet that care. That through the power of our prayer…through strength in numbers, she will be healed.
What else am I doing? I’m sending her a copy of RADIATE for inspiration. If I can overcome that disgusting disease, so can she. I’m also going to Tweet about her fight to make others aware of what she’s going through. And I’m also going to make her the first recipient of The Radiate Foundation’s efforts – before our 501(c)(3) status is approved, before we have the bank account set up or the website finished.
What’s The Radiate Foundation? It’s the charity that I’m in the process of forming that will provide cheer baskets to be delivered by a local cheerleading group to a young adult currently in the hospital undergoing cancer treatment. Why? Because a local cheerleading team in Birmingham, Alabama did this for me in the summer of 1982 when I laid in a sterile room wondering if anyone cared. These girls – the varsity cheerleaders from Homewood High School—came to my room in uniform and brought me a basket full of goodies and balloons. They cheered for me and made me feel like anything was possible. That I could overcome. And I did.
So, with your help…I’m going to make Madeline the first recipient of The Radiate Foundation’s efforts. Together, we’re going to create a cheer basket for her and get it sent to her hospital room in Jacksonville, Florida. Strangers. All of us binding together to help a young girl know she can kick cancer to the curb. Just like I did. Just like so many others did.
How can you help? Donate. Donate to The Radiate Foundation and help me make the most disgustingly cheerful cheer basket ever…full of candy and magazines, CDs, movies, t-shirts, teddy bears, beauty items like mascara, eye shadow, you name it…sports drinks, socks, gum, movie tickets, gift cards, anything…everything. I will work with her gym in Atlanta on how to get the basket delivered to her. I will have everyone’s name on the card who donated and helped out. She will want to know each and every one of you. Strangers who cared enough about a fifteen year old cheerleader lying in a hospital bed fighting off this repulsive disease that’s attacked her in the prime of her life.
I do this for Madeline.
I do this for my 15 year old self.
I do this for everyone who’s ever felt alone and scared and wondered if anyone cared that they’re dealing with cancer.
I do it because I have to.
I do it because this is why I had to have cancer…so I could help.
Help me help Madeline. Help her radiate.
Thanks so much.
Love to all,
Marley
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