There are just three men on the planet who have seen me at my worst.
These men have seen me without makeup and with unwashed, uncombed hair. They have seen me laugh and they have seen me sob.
The first man is my husband. The is my dad. The third is Dr. Tim Driscoll.
During Sarah’s bone marrow transplant, when I stayed in the hospital room with her for thirty days, Dr. Driscoll came by at all hours of the day and night. He dispensed medical care, comfort, and advice. He gallantly overlooked my tear-swollen face and poking-up hair as we discussed morphine, blood counts, high fevers and chemo doses.
Some of the times he visited, I was barely coherent: tongue-tied and brain-rattled by grief, fatigue, worry, loneliness, and the inescapable knowledge that my girl would probably die. (Stage IV Neuroblastoma, especially when diagnosed after the age of two, is one of the deadliest pediatric cancers.)
I knew that the transplant floor at Duke was not a place for the faint of heart. I knew that whenever the staff came through and closed all the blinds in the patients’ rooms, it was because another child had died. Another child was being wheeled down the hall and out the doors, leaving their cohorts behind to continue battling on. And what a horrific, body-strewn battlefield it was.
Dr. Driscoll and the other medical angels who walk those halls go to work every day with the knowledge that many of their patients will not survive. And yet they keep at it, day after day, just to have their hearts broken over and over again.
I know it had to have broken Dr. Driscoll’s heart the day he called with the news that Sarah had relapsed–four years after finishing treatment and being declared N.E.D. (No Evidence of Disease.) He walked with our family through the heartache of the following weeks and months and saw us through to the other side.
Even though Sarah was just ten years old when she relapsed, she was well aware that the relapse could mean that the cancer would never go away or, if it did, that it could come back again. But she was not prepared to give up.
How do I know that?
Because I wandered into her room one afternoon and noticed an envelope on her desk with these words scrawled on it:
“My Car and Calage Fund. Do not tuch.”
She didn’t care that she was once again facing a largely unsurvivable pediatric cancer. She didn’t care that she was probably facing more difficult, painful treatment. She still had dreams left to chase, dreams of a car and calage.
I cried over that envelope back in 2006, and I cried even more tears over the memory of that envelope when August 2016 arrived and Sarah prepared to leave home–driving her own car to calage.
Happy tears. Happy day.
But it gets better.
A few weeks ago before her departure, I emailed Dr. Driscoll with a question and, as is my custom, I included some non-medical news about Sarah and attached a current photo. At the last second, I also happened to mention that Sarah was going to be attending Regent University in Virginia Beach.
Dr. Driscoll wrote back to tell me that his son was also attending Regent and that they would be taking him there on August 15. I told him Sarah was moving in the same day and asked if we could meet up. He replied, “Of course!”
That email conversation turned into an amazing, tear-streaked, smile-sprinkled dorm room celebration.
Back on that Relapse Day of June 30, 2006, Steve and I could not lift our heads off the ground long enough to view any sort of future for our girl, especially one that included her living long enough to go to college.
But Sarah saw it.
And Sarah scrawled the promise of what she saw on an envelope, and she put that envelope out on her desk for everyone to see. She was buying a car. She was going to college.
What she could never have dreamed or planned or imagined was that on her very first day as a resident college student, she would have the privilege of standing next to her doctor and friend from the darkest years of her life. He was the man who had treated her disease, hugged her mom, comforted her dad, talked with her brother, and prayed for the whole family at their very lowest times.
And I got to do something I had been wanting to do for a long time. I got to introduce myself to Mrs. Driscoll and thank her for all the sacrifices she makes every single day so that her husband can continue to work medical miracles in the lives of children just like Sarah.
I happened to glance over at Mrs. Driscoll while we were taking pictures and saw tears on her face as she explained to one of the other mothers, “That’s one of the children my husband treated.”
I can only imagine how often she has cried with her husband when he has said, “We lost another one.” But how often does she get to hear about the successes, let alone get to meet a patient who survived? Not often enough.
We could never have organized such a momentous day on our own; we could never have known that on that first day of Sarah’s college future, she would be standing next to the man who was so instrumental in giving that future to her.
As we stood together in that room, we remembered tears, laughter, pain, prayers, and the hope that wouldn’t let go.
I’m so thankful for the silver lining that emerged from a difficult storm. I’m thankful for a doctor who has dedicated his life so that children can live.
I’m thankful for a car. I’m thankful for calage.
(Postscript: Sarah is now twenty-six years old and when she got married earlier this year, Dr. and Mrs. Driscoll were honored guests at her wedding.)
Here are a few photos going back through Sarah and Dr. Driscoll’s history together. For some reason, I do not have any pictures of them when Sarah was in active treatment, i.e., when she didn’t have any hair. I guess I was too stressed during those times to think of taking pictures while he was in the room.
Your story just warmed my heart! Dr. Driscoll is my big brother. I know my brother is a doc at Duke, and he works with sick kids, but your story made it more personable and real as to what he really does and what he really is there for…a support for the patient as well as for the family. When I had to go in for surgery, it was comforting to know that he was checking on me and the docs who were taking care of me. I imagine it was a comfort to you to know someone was attending to your child’s needs and giving her the best of care in such a serious and stressful situation. May God bless you!
Anne,
What a delight to hear from Dr. Driscoll’s sister!
I am so happy that my post gave you an added perspective into what your big brother does day in and day out–he truly makes a difference in the biggest and smallest of ways.
And the tears are flowing and now I feel ancient! Sarah yiu may not remember me but I was one of your night shift nurses at Brenners 9PHO. I have so many memories of you and your amazing family and in fact just came across a CD they recorded and had given to several nurses. I remember your VG Cape which was awesome! I am so unbelievably excited for yiu and your new college journey! Good luck with everything and God bless! Oh and I work at Duke now in peds. My office is right around the corner from 5200. Stop by anytime!
Kelly,
Yes, I DO remember you! 🙂 You were one of our favorites. (Sarah’s V.G. cape was pretty hard to forget, wasn’t it?) 🙂
How great that you are at Duke now; we don’t get there a lot these days (thankfully) but next time we do, we will try to look you up.
Thanks so much for stopping by.
I can’t believe she’s old enough to be in college!! I feel so old! LOL I remember taking care of Sarah (she was one of my first patients on 5200) and being admired by her strength and your family’s faith in God. It was so evident and calming. Dr. Driscoll is one of my favs for sure!! How cool is it that his son is going to the same college?? Coincidence, I think not! Sarah is gorgeous as ever and I pray she continues to dream and reach her goals. BTW, Dr. Driscoll has a nickname, we now call him “The Hurricane” because of the way he whirls in and out of the rooms and we categorize him based on how fast he’s going that day! hahaha He’s such a good sport! Love to the Smiths!!!
Bethany,
We sure do remember you and your sweet smile! I didn’t realize Sarah had been one of your first patients on 5200.
I love Dr. Driscoll’s nickname. 🙂
And I first learned of you guys when you visited my church, Burlington Assembly of God before Sarah was diagnosed I think. Pastor Howard Thompson has retired now and is truly missed! Feel free to use the nickname!! LOL
I have had the pleasure to work on 5200 for the first years at Duke Hospital .. And I must say , Dr. Driscoll is a fantastic , unique doctor .. This is a beautiful story and I’m glad you were able to make it to colage …. LOL .. Thankful !
Ebony,
Thank you for being a 5200 Hero! And we join you in the Dr. Driscoll Fan Club. Fantastic and unique are two good words to describe him.
I’ve followed Sarah’s story from the time of her BMT at Duke- but I don’t think I’ve ever commented on the blog. This post brought tears to my eyes- that she’s a survivor and that she’s not just surviving but thriving! I’m sure seeing her doing so well was good for Dr. Driscoll. I love seeing it myself! Best wishes and prayers for a wonderful year for Sarah and a good adjustment for you and Steve.
Heather,
Hooray! A long-time follower and first- time commenter. That combination always makes my day. 🙂
I know what you mean about getting choked up over those few minutes that Sarah and Dr. Driscoll were together. We never could have planned such a gathering but I am so thankful, especially for Dr. Driscoll and his wife’s sake, that it happened. I hope they received enough encouragement for the next twenty years!
Wow, just wow! Such a satisfying and amazing thing to happen for both families!
Kari,
Satisfying and amazing are two perfect words to describe a perfect occasion!
So beautiful and so touching. Thank you, Becky.
Margaret,
Thank YOU for reading and taking the time to leave a comment. The story was my joy to tell!
Margaret, my fellow CHS Wldcat friend. Thanks for your kind words. Grace and peace.
How incredible, friend! I just love how God works! He is so good to us..isn’t he? Praise God that Sarah has (and your entire family!) have reached this stage in the journey of “car and colage!” Looking at your pictures here takes me back to the early years of our daughters and their friendship…to the hospital visits, and many many prayers whispered and cried. Now…here she is, a beautiful young woman embarking on a new chapter in her life. A new adventure for her…and, for momma too :). Love you, sweet friend!
Crystal,
Thanks to and your family for walking so closely with us during that trial by fire.
I was just thinking the other day how you volunteered to wash all of Sarah’s clothes, bedding, and stuffed animals in hot water and pack them in large plastic zip lock bags so that she could take them into the BMT unit. That and so many acts of kindness and generosity were such a blessing to us. Love you!
It is so good to see and hear how faithful the Lord is, we can never thank Him enough for His mercy over us; all the days of our lives. Wow, yes.
Ruth,
Wow, yes, and amen!
Hello, we have followed you for a long time and this post brought me to so many happy tears and thankful praises for Sarah, your family and for Dr. Driscoll and his family. Thank you so much for sharing in the beginning, growing up and continuing – your family continues to be a testament to each one of us … Oh happy happy days!!!!
Beth,
“The beginning, growing up, and continuing . . .” That’s a great way to describe all that this blog journey has covered.
So thankful to have so many faithful, long time followers like you!
Well, I did something I haven’t done in a long time reading your column – I cried. In a way I am an emotional person, and have read the other replies stating they had tears or were crying over reading one of your stories. But I didn’t. Don’t know what it was – seeing Sarah with the doctor in the dorm room, but I started to cry and thanked the Lord for being with her throught the ordeal. Thanking the Lord for you and what you went through with Sarah. The love and care you had for her to stay with her so often and sometimes for a long time. I know, “that’s what mother’s do.” But some mother’s don’t. To be able to see Dr. Driscoll out of the hospital and in a happy setting had to be so special for your family. When I see Sarah’s pictures now, I can only Praise the Lord for what He has done and what he did through Dr. Driscoll. Bless you Sarah and for what the Lord has in store for you in the future.
Sharyn,
I think you really nailed it when you said how special it was to see Dr. Driscoll out of the hospital and in a happy setting; it’s a totally different feeling.
And when you mix that in with the joy of Sarah surviving to even be at that college, it was definitely something to (happy) cry over!
WOW! God had a hand in that for sure. What an amazing experience for Dr Driscoll and your family!
Michele,
It truly was an experience we won’t forget for a long time. It was just special all the way around.
I am showing everyone this post! This made me cry happy tears, stories like sarah’s are few and far between, but make every day worth it! Your family is awesome, dr.driscoll is awesome, and I am so happy that i know you all!
Tiffany,
And YOU are awesome! Thanks for being one of the people who gathered those important stem cells. That day at Regent belonged to you, too.
Love, love, love this. So happy for Sarah as she makes her next steps out into the big world, and so grateful for caring, dedicated doctors.
Amie,
Thanks for your encouragement.
For a dainty young lady, I still think Sarah is going to make some big footprints out in that big world. 🙂
And I am ever so grateful for the doctors she’s had along her journey.
Wonderful story and pics, Becky! You can look at the pics of this wonderful doctor and see his warm spirit! (by the way, my son in law is dong great after his stem cell transplant at UCSF a year ago! ) God is GOOD!
Jojy,
I am SO happy to hear about your son-in-law’s great progress! It’s amazing what the power of medicine and the power of prayer can accomplish.
What a wonderful story. I have tears reading it. I am so glad dreams come true. also a lot of prayers were answered.and how wonderful to get to see your special doctor on the beginning of a new life at college.
Sharon,
Dreams come true. Prayers answered. What a great way to start a college year!
Providence, amazing grace and Providence!
Steve,
One amazing grace and two providences? Sounds like a good ratio to me. 🙂
That is so cool! I’m sure getting to see one of his kids at college made his day.
Phyllis,
I’m sure hoping it did. After so many years of seeing kids not make it, I hope that visit made him smile for a long time!
Becky,
Over the years, I’ve wept through many of your posts. But this one. This one.
I sobbed.
I’m grateful that Mrs. Driscoll got to witness this moment. Blessings on Dr. Driscoll, on Sarah, on you all.
Tobi,
Thank you for reading here for so many years and for sharing the ups, the downs, and yes–the tears.
I’m so thankful I got to write a tear-producing, but happy, post!
No coincidence. God’s Hand is everywhere in that day of tears, meetings, celebration and pride at Sarah’s college. What a happy, wonderful day for all! By the way, I am crying – so many tears for so many reasons, because of so many memories of those dark days and for the brilliance of the days to come. Love and happiness to all.
Mary,
“So many tears for so many reasons.” What a wonderful way to express the feelings that accompany this story.
No coincidence. So true.
Oh my goodness! What an amazing thing!!! I love the photos of Sarah and Dr. Driscoll – he must have a vast collection of ties!
Stefanie,
Yes, I think Dr. Driscoll specializes in fun ties so that it gives his patients something happy to focus on. Just one of the many things that makes him a great doctor.
I think other than the NED posts at Sarah Smith’s Spot this was one of the best posts ever! I’ve laughed, & I’ve cried w/ the Smith Family but today’s reaction, I can’t explain! Thank you for sharing this!
Jodi,
It was an incredibly meaningful moment for ALL of us. And to think I wouldn’t even have known they were going to be on campus the same day if I hadn’t just happened to mention the college in my email.
Thankful.
When are you going to write a book! This is wonderful and so inspiring to Gods care and faithfulness in our lives. Thanks for sharing. You have a wonderful family!
Frankie,
I keep threatening to write a book. Can’t quite figure out how to start.
So thankful for God’s faithfulness in our lives.
I agree becky. … you should write a book!
🙂
What a wonderful story!!! Only God could make this happen. I am thrilled the doctor got to see Sarah in happy times. Meeting his wife was an extra blessing and I am sure it meant a lot to her. So happy for all.
Ann,
A doctor getting to see a patient in “happy times” has got to be one of the greatest rewards of his calling and career. Thanks for sharing our happiness!
Dreams do come true!! Hooray for the amazing Dr. Driscoll and his team that worked so hard to help Sarah get well and to SURVIVE!!!!!
LeeAnne,
Hooraying right along with you!!
Wow. Just… Wow. Praise God.
Jessica,
You summed it up well. Not more more to say!
What a God sent miracle. Thanking God for Sarah’s dreams that have come true
Gail,
So very thankful she is in college and doing well. Thanksgiving upon thankgsiving . . .
My first thought is, “God has put so many angels in the path of the Smith family!” I think of the Hawley family opening their home to Nathan as he started college in Florida. (Oh yeah….that one was pretty amazing the way it turned out!) I think of the church member who let you use a house in Manteo until you found one of your own there. I think of all the church ladies with the food they send if you need it for your special dinners. I’m sure there are many more.
And Dr. Driscoll. I see those wings, Dr. Driscoll!
Jan,
You have a good memory, trolling through all the happenings in the Smith family! I am especially grateful for the outcome of the Hawley Hospitality to Nathan all those years ago. 🙂
And yes, Dr. Driscoll DOES have wings.
What a wonderful TRUE LIFE story. I often point to Sarah’s story to encourage others. Nothing happens by accident. God is so good.
Angela,
You are so right when you say that nothing happens by accident. I’m so glad God is in control of ALL of our lives.
What an amazing story. I had to put on a sweater in our office to hide the cold chills! So many God moments in the two paths that crossed — then and now!
Karen,
Maybe instead of a Kleenex-warning, I should have put a sweater-warning at the beginning of the post. 🙂
Thank you for encouragements through the years.
Thank you so much for sharing this. :’-) <3
Fred,
It was my joy!
That brought tears to my eyes because I have had something slightly similar happen with my daughter and someone who helped save her life. In March of 2007, she was involved in a car accident and needed to be airlifted to the closest trauma hospital due to being in a coma. Very long story short, the night of the accident, my husband and I ended up at the accident sight, met one and only one firefighter at that site. About 3 weeks after the accident, my daughter and I were down at the waterfront going for a walk (she had a miracle recovery and was out of the hospital 2 weeks after the accident). While walking back to the car, there was a fire truck in the parking lot. I looked over and saw that one and only firefighter. We kept walking and then I said to myself, “no, I need to go say hi to him”. We walked over there and I started talking to him about the accident and then showed him my daughter and he was shocked…they had sent her off in a coma and I don’t think he expected to see her up and walking and talking so soon after. It made his day to see her.
Nicole,
I loved your story!
I am so thankful you took the time to speak to that fireman; I can only imagine how much it must have meant to him. Emergency personnel see so much wreckage and pain and sorrow; it must be an incredible joy to see a patient come through and do as well as your daughter is doing. Hooray for her and for the man who helped her.
I’m disappointed! No crazy tie for his son’s move-in day? Has the world stopped turning? 🙂 The picture of the four of you gave me goosebumps. I remember you mentioning that envelope when you found it. Sarah always knew. What a wonderful punctuation mark for both families.
Lesley,
Oh shoot. I should have made up a little twist to the story so that Dr. Driscoll’s son asked Sarah out on a date. Or something! 🙂 He was actually a very nice young man– a couple years younger than Sarah.
And I love that you called our meeting a “punctuation mark” for both families. Perfectly said.
One of your BEST! I so wish the other neuroblastoma parents could see this post. I have followed Sarah since you were in Duke and I always tell folks about her. Her envelope reminds me of the story about the little train saying “I think I can, and ending with I know I can” she has always known she can. thank you for sharing your sweet girl with us. Becky in NC PS – how are you and Steve doing?
Becky,
Yep, “I think I can, I think I can” really sums up that story well, doesn’t it? Thanks for sharing her story with others who may need some encouragement.
We are hanging in there; Steve is doing better than I am but I’m gonna make it!
Wow. That was a Divine Appointment if there ever was one! “Incredible” can barely begin to describe our God, the Smith family, the Dr. Driscoll family, and the fact that Sarah’s long ago faith-filled vision of “a car and calage” has come to fruition.
Deb,
It was an amazing moment, that’s for sure. I love it when things happen that we couldn’t even begin to put together on our own.
Thankful . . .