About Us

Our family of 6 (dad Adam, mom Sherry, big sister Abby and little brothers Isaac and Brady -- who was born on December 14, 2010) joined the ranks of pediatric cancer fighters when our 4-year old son Logan was diagnosed with a dangerous and highly malignant form of brain cancer in mid-August 2010. Logan's cancer journey began abruptly on Sunday, August 15, when his right eye suddenly turned inward during dinner. Twenty-four hours later, we were checking into Children's Hospital Oakland and finding out that life sometimes takes you places you'd never, ever imagine yourself going.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010


I don't believe in superheroes. At least, not in the sense that we've come to worship them in modern-day culture. Because the people who are the real superheroes in this life are the ones who spend most of their days stuck in the special wing of a hospital, hooked up to IV poles while receiving high doses of gut-busting, toxic medications. They can't fly, see through walls or move mountains with a single thought, but they can smile and do little dances just minutes after throwing up their lunches for the third day in a row. They can flirt with their caretakers and make jokes even when everything hurts and all they want is to go home again.

I'm amazed by what I see every day at CHO. Truly amazed. I was once afraid of sick people and especially sick children; after all, they're different somehow, right? Aren't kid gloves required? But of course, nearly four months into Logan's treatment protocol, I've come to realize that these kids aren't kids to be feared. Instead, they're to be admired for their strength, their fortitude, their tremendous courage and their heart.

So why the big reflection now? As I was leaving CHO this evening, I boarded the elevator with a set of parents and a boy, probably about 9 years old, who was perched in a wheelchair. From their conversation, I gleaned that he'd broken his elbow and was awaiting the results of an MRI. He asked for a drink of water, and the woman said no, not until after the doctor had gotten back to them. And he started to cry -- big, wet, round tears that quickly stained his cheeks. But I'm so thirsty! he moaned. His mom placated him and then that was it: I got off the elevator and headed to my car.

I felt for the boy. It's tough to be denied a basic need when you really need it! And then my mind drifted up to the 5th floor, where Logan and his co-horts are denied the basics of eating with comfort, playing with friends and going home every single day. Yet they bear the burden that no one should have to bear with such grace, patience and with so many smiles that they meet the very definition of what a superhero should be, capes and special powers be darned.

Anyway, just a random bit for the evening. Blessings to you.


  1. If I had any artistic talent, I'd make him a logo with some sort of fancy, brightly colored shield. And "Logan's Heroes" shirts for all of you! ;-)

  2. I love that Sherry. So well put, and TRUE!!

  3. Amen!! Total and absolute superheroes!!!

    PS - I LOVE that picture of Logan. It warms my heart. He really does look like sunshine.

  4. Logan's Heroes ... I LOVE that.

    Well put Sherry. Having known a girl who suffered Lukemia much of her life, and Down's Syndrome her whole life, I have come to hold "sick" kids in a special place in my heart. Her strength and faith in God and personality were unmatched by anyone and she taught me more than I ever could've learned from anyone else.