Imagine taking your three year old in for a persistent ear infection and coming out with a cancer diagnosis. That’s the flood Matt and Lindsey Wamsley found themselves involuntarily pulled into two years ago.
Their daughter, Adaleigh, had been sluggish and complaining of ear pain when they took her to the hospital. Lindsey thought things were mostly routine until the phlebotomist came back to the room for a repeat set of labs. When that second set of results confirmed Addie had, in fact, Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, Lindsey’s entire world instantly changed.
She immediately quit her beloved job as a youth counselor and soon her days of guiding hurting teens through life’s big struggles were replaced with guiding her scared little girl through appointments, diagnoses, medical exams and the specific brands of anxiety that trail each.
Addie was admitted to Cook Children's Hospital, Hematology/oncology unit in Fort Worth, TX to begin immediate chemotherapy and steroid treatment. Due to the terrible side effects of each, one minute she would be laughing and playing and the next, crying uncontrollably and throwing food. As parents, Matt and Lindsey felt the excruciating helplessness of within weeks watching their happy child go from playing outside, running around, and dressing up for dance recitals to losing her appetite, her hair, and even ability to smile.
But at every tantrum, every injection, every big and small change in the treatment plan there was a small army of incredible staff ready to not just take care of Addie, but also Matt, Lindsey and her brothers Noah and Charles. Everyone, from the doctors and child life specialists to the nurses and hazmat team, was onboard and dedicated to treating and helping the entire family move through childhood leukemia.
After Addie was discharged and receiving daily treatments at home, Lindsey decided to do something truly inspiring. Every year on the anniversary of Addie’s first treatment, she began honoring the staff with appreciation baskets to commemorate “Sparkly Brave Day.” She chooses to give back something small to the quiet heroes who often give all they’ve got.
A month ago, when Lindsey contacted me to commission a custom cartoon strip I had no idea I was going to get to play a small part in such a special, sparkly, brave day. She knew exactly what she wanted: four separate scenes communicating four separate activities the staff perform routinely but mean the world to their patients.
-Dragon hunting the hospital mascot, Peaks
-Nerf gun wars in the the hallway with the nurses
-Tea parities with Dr. Mohamed
-Racing after trike-riding children to give meds
As a pediatric nurse myself once-upon-a-time, I couldn’t wait to get started. But the further into the project I got, the more blown away I was by Lindsey herself. Where she had every right and reason to be stressed and anxious, she was calm and kind. There was an undercurrent of peace about her that’s hard to explain but quite remarkable to witness. Once she (unnecessarily) apologized for a gap in communication by saying, “Cassidy!! Please forgive my delayed response. I have been moving my mom in who has terminal lung cancer. But my daughter’s sparkly brave day is right around the corner…”
Stop. Rewind. Say again??
Yes. Her mother had been diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer and was moving in so Lindsey could help care for her and they could soak up time together. And here I was complaining how our Amazon boxes got soggy in the rain.
These days, Addie is still in the thick of at-home treatment, but she celebrated her first day of kindergarten last week. Lindsey’s navigating the stress and strain of an immunocompromised child in the public school system with the same calm, even when frustration abounds. They’re enjoying extra time and conversations with her mother now that she’s officially all moved in to the Wamsley home.
And this weekend, Lindsey dropped off 100 gift baskets for the staff at Cook Children’s. Among the goodies included were 100 bags of trail mix, 100 fancy pens, and 100 cartooned thank yous I got the honor of creating for an incredible family and hospital staff.
“We decided a long time ago the staff at the hospital deserve so much and we wished we could do something special for them…We decided to give care bags for the staff to feel loved. We hope every single year will be bigger and better. In an ideal world I would love to buy them all AirPods, or vacations, or really big gifts. But for now these goodie bags are from our heart.”
Near the end of the project, I asked if Lindsey would explain more behind the meaning of Sparkly Brave Day,
“Addie loved to dance. Right before her diagnosis she was practicing getting ready for her dance recital. She would say ‘And then I go on stage and I smile and I'll be so sparkly with my tutu I'll be sparkly brave!’ So this became her mantra before treatment. If she wanted to climb the big rock at the park: ‘I'm sparkly brave!’ When we took her to the dentist for the first time ‘I'm sparkly brave!’ So when she was diagnosed it became her natural battle cry. We tell people it's kind of like being normally brave but while being extra fancy/sparkly as well...which describes her perfectly.’”
But one more person in this story sparkles, too. Sparkles shine from a mama who holds her girl while she throws up, they slide down her cheeks as she watches her child sleep through the beeps of IVs, and they glint in the dark as she prays for healing for both her daughter and mother and watches the stars silently sparkle back.
To Dr. Mohamed and Kelsey, to the entire nursing team for their kindness and care, to all the staff who would take a Nerf bullet for any of their patients, and to the woman who didn’t let a parent’s worst nightmare cripple her, Happy Sparkly Brave Day to the heroes behind the scenes.
Thank you all for living lives that hunt, find, and reflect the light in the dark nights of the soul and give hope to those around you.
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