Penelope was just 6 years old when everything changed.
In the spring of 2020, she started having unexplained fevers and pain that seemed to move from place to place. First it was in her groin and side. Because we had been quarantined at home, it didn't make sense that she was getting sick. Doctors initially thought it might be a urinary tract infection and prescribed antibiotics. When the pain shifted, they wondered if it could be a kidney stone. Neither explanation felt right. Then the pain started affecting her wrists and ankles, and I asked if we could test for Lyme disease.
Her doctor agreed to bring her in for lab work "just to rule out the big stuff." She told me she would call within a week.
Instead, she called the very next day.
I can still remember frantically scribbling notes as she spoke. Words like "hemoglobin dangerously low," "white blood cells," and "platelet counts" filled a Post-it note as my head spun. Then came the words that changed everything: "Pack a bag and head to the emergency room."
That night, Penelope was diagnosed with B-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia (B-ALL).
At the hospital, a doctor came into our room and asked me a few questions before turning to Penelope. She was happily playing with Child Life specialists, squeezing glitter and water through syringes and wrapping a stuffed rabbit in bandages. The doctor told her he needed to borrow me for a conversation in the next room.
Once we stepped out, he said something I'll never forget.
"You should get your husband on the phone."
Another doctor held the phone so my husband, Greg, could listen while we learned the diagnosis. One of the hardest parts was that everyone was wearing masks. As they explained leukemia, treatment plans, and next steps, I searched their faces for reassurance. I wanted to read their expressions, but I couldn't see them.
Penelope was admitted that very night. We spent about a week and a half at the Children's Hospital, and treatment began almost immediately. She had surgery to place her port the following Monday, and by Thursday we were finally discharged to continue the long road ahead.
For the most part, Penelope handled treatment remarkably well. There were difficult days, especially after spinal taps when she experienced pain in her legs and back. Some medications, particularly steroids and methotrexate, were hard on her emotionally and physically. A little over two months into maintenance therapy, her blood counts dropped dangerously low. We learned that a recurring Parvovirus infection was causing the problem, forcing us to pause treatment and spend a full week receiving IVIG infusions.
That week was especially tough. The infusions caused fevers, and she ultimately needed to be admitted to the hospital again. Thankfully, she recovered, but it was one of many reminders that cancer treatment is rarely a straight path.
Despite the challenges, Penelope continued moving forward.
By 2021, her color had returned, her energy was coming back, and between clinic visits she was focused on what mattered most to her: being a kid. There were ups and downs, setbacks and victories, but we were incredibly grateful for how well she was doing.
Today, Penelope is 13 years old and thriving. She loves crafting, the color green, and can often be found riding her horse, Darla, and training for her next jumping competition. She has a creative spirit and loves painting, art projects, and sculpting things with her hands. She babysits and watches pets for neighbors, loves gardening and baking, and creating gory Halloween costumes. She also adores her cats, Olive and Nico, who have been loyal companions through so much of her childhood. And she loves sharing her experience in ways that help others.
Looking back, leukemia is a chapter that shaped our family, but it does not define Penelope. What defines her is her resilience, her creativity, her sense of humor, and the way she continues to embrace life. From a little girl facing a leukemia diagnosis in 2020 to the artistic, animal-loving 13-year-old she is today, Penelope has shown us what courage looks like. Every milestone, every ordinary day, and every chance to watch her simply be a kid feels like a gift.
Penelope
B-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia (ALL)
