Tag Archive for: pediatric cancer awareness

The House That IB Built

IV cart rideBy: Erin Santos/ “Isabella’s mommy”

When I look back at who we were in 2012, everything made sense to me. It seemed that every person involved with the Foundation knew us personally or had followed our story in some way. Nothing needed an explanation or back-story as to why we did the things we did. But now I find myself in 2016 and I look around me to the growth of the Foundation and I’m happy to see new names and faces. I’m always amazed with people who are so dedicated to our mission when they never had the pleasure of laying their own eyes on my daughter. Those people have become just as special to me as the family who was with us from our initial cancer diagnosis. These people stand next to us without asking questions or without looking for reasoning in our decisions, and for that – I am grateful.

When your organization starts to grow, everything from your logo, to the colors you use, to the stories you tell have purpose. It all makes perfect sense to me because I was here from day one. But for all the new followers, these things must just seem natural for ISF. Sometimes I find that telling the story of where we came from helps put more understanding around who we are today.

So with that, I want to introduce you to the house that Ib built.

The Isabella Santos Foundation:

In the beginning it was just about her. We weren’t thinking globally. Looking back, it probably would have made more sense to name ourselves something general so the Foundation would be applicable in Nebraska, just as it is here. It says nothing about cancer, or beating cancer… it’s just about her. She became a little celebrity in our little community and it was no longer about that little girl that was just diagnosed with cancer. People knew her name and her face and we were okay with that. We didn’t want to hide behind something bigger.

Our Ibby logo:

Sometimes you see an image and it just clicks. We saw an image online once of a stick figure little girl. It was very innocent and child like. Because of Isabella’s physical limitations, art became her safe place. When you find yourself in hospital beds day after day and you are too weak to walk down your driveway, you have to find something that speaks to you. For her it was art. She would spend hours drawing and coloring. All she needed was a white piece of paper and a pencil and she would be entertained for hours. She would draw pictures for everyone and it became her way of saying thank you. What started as a stick figure little girl that Isabella could easily draw and color, became something else. The logo changed to be the girl on the world because that is how we saw Isabella. The world was at her fingertips and no matter what happened to her, she was going to conquer anything. That simple logo has moved and shaped into a life of it’s own now. I love watching all the things they can make our little “Ibby” character do. Often times I find myself jealous of all Ibby can do because my Isabella struggled. But maybe Isabella lives through that little logo and is finally able to do all the things she wished she could have done.

Who is Ib/Ibby?:

If you were in our home, you knew that this word was used a lot. Now thinking back on it – I’m not sure how I started using it. Even when I go visit her site at Calvary, I kiss her immediately and call her Ib. It always feels so good to say it when I’m there because it’s a word that has vanished from my vocabulary. Ibby just seemed like such a great name for our logo because it was her, but an extension of her in a way.  She was referred to by so many different names and they all have meaning behind them. Isabella was her formal name. This is how the industry people referred to her (doctors, nurses, strangers and supporters). “Bella” was the name reserved only for Grant and Sophia. Because they were so young at the time, Isabella may have been too difficult so Bella became how they knew her. “Isabella Jo” was one of my favorites because if you were her true friend, you knew her by Isabella Jo. She had such a common name in preschool that we decided early on to find something that could make her unique. Joanne was her middle name, named after Stuart’s mother, Joanne, who passed away before I met Stuart. Isabella Jo just seemed perfect.

Purple:

I know childhood cancer is supposed to be gold. You try telling a 3-year-old little girl that everything we are going to do for her will be gold. Good luck. When we started getting things organized, all she wanted was pink and purple. This is confirmed by the hours we spent painting her room upstairs in pink and purple stripes. We all know that pink has been owned by another organization so good luck incorporating that in anything you do. So purple it was. Not that we didn’t believe in supporting childhood cancer as a whole, we just didn’t think we had to conform to the standard to do any good in this world. We were building something initially based off Isabella and what she embodied. That is why we are still purple today.

Beat Cancer. Grow Hair. Live My Dreams.:

This might just be one of my favorites. When you have a little girl with cancer, the actual cancer is a little harder to hide. I found myself envious of little boys who could throw on a hat or get away with the regrowth buzz cut look. But when you have a little girl in a crazy dress with purple knee high socks and tennis shoes running around, a bald head can be a little harder to hide. So instead of hiding, she embraced it. We found the shirt online among other great shirts that she loved to wear like “I love my oncologist.” She proudly wore this shirt for many reasons. First because above anything, her wish was to beat cancer, but coming in a close second was to grow her hair. Sometimes I think she wanted her hair back more than she wanted to beat cancer. Live my dreams…boy did she have dreams. None of them were on hold because she had cancer and they were big dreams.

She was constantly drawn to making wishes. The amount of money we spent throwing coins in a fountain would pay a mortgage. We would have to listen to her spout out these wishes with each toss into the water. Sometimes hearing these from her would make us smile, especially when we felt like we were winning the war. But other times it would be like a knife in our heart when we were in a battle that we didn’t know if we would win. Add on top of this the theme of “Wishing upon a star” thanks to Disney and a religious preschool that introduced bedtime prayers. Welcome to Isabella’s reoccurring three wishes that we heard over and over and over.

The 5K/10 and 1-mile fun run for Kids Cancer:

It started by an idea to get some people together to show support for a newly diagnosed family. We were Ballantyne residents who worked at LendingTree in the Ballantyne Corporate Park. A couple of friends threw together some shirts, a start line, a finish line and some refreshments and we were off! We had about 170 people at that initial race and raised just over $7,000. We watched Isabella run awkwardly across the finish line that year with a fresh scar on her head from a brain relapse. She would attend 5 more races with us before she passed away.

You will still find us with a start line in the Ballantyne Corporate Park in September, but we have grown a little. Last year we had close to 3,000 people at our event, which is no longer just a basic run. It’s not a run anymore; it’s become an event. Silent auctions and raffles, kids zone, food, music and a sense of community like you have never seen thanks to sponsors, volunteers and participants. Our event raised close to $400,000 last year and this year will blow that out of the water. Don’t believe us? Come check it out. You will come year after year.

Where we give:

For me personally, where we give our money makes sense. Honestly, if it doesn’t make sense to someone – it’s a hard pill for me to swallow. We give to what mattered to our daughter. Plain and simple. Saving her friends was always first and foremost the most important thing to her. This is why 90%+ of our funding goes to Neuroblastoma research. It’s why we are here and why she isn’t here. But for us, giving to the Make a Wish Foundation and Ronald McDonald House are important to us because we never would have made it through our amazing journey without these organizations. The Make a Wish Foundation gave Isabella some of the most amazing days of her life. From our actual trip to Disney, to the Taylor Swift concert to the days as a TopCat. Looking back on her short life, you become extremely appreciative of the experiences they are able to have since they are robbed of graduation, marriage, children and everything else we take for granted. The Ronald McDonald House allowed us to be treated in New York City for just $35 a day. So many nights and wonderful memories were created during her treatment and the majority of those were in New York City. We could never have been treated there without accommodations through the Ronald McDonald House and this is true for all families who have to travel for treatment. We also occasionally help out local families with a mortgage payment usually in the beginning or ending of treatment. Local organizations provided us with this during our battle and it was a lifesaver.

I think it’s important to thank the people who helped you in your time of need. So this is what we do. Neuroblastoma is our mission and everything we do is with that in mind, which is why almost every dollar sent out from ISF goes toward Neuroblastoma research. But this organization was built off Isabella and what was important to her. Every organization is different and I think that is what makes us all special. If she told me she wanted us to give money each year to the Humane Society – then we would do it. Because in the end it’s all to honor her. This is what she believed in, so this is what we do.

Who we are:

We are Isabella. Every single thing we do is for her. Where we give, what we say, what we do, the standard to which we hold ourselves. We are honest and true and giving, all things she was. I love the compliments we receive about how we run our organization. I take them as compliments for each of us that work on the Foundation day in and day out, but it’s also a compliment to her. Because in the end, we are all just extensions of Isabella. Our work is done in her honor and we hope, like her, we will one day conquer the world and make all of her dreams come true.

Thank you to all of you who have supported us from day one up to today. I realize that without her here, it can be hard to see what we are trying to do. But know that she is still here and she is working through each and every one of us to make a difference. I can’t wait to see what we accomplish together.

 

 

 

Why We Haven’t Touched It

Written by Erin Santos, Isabella’s Mommy & President of The Isabella Santos Foundation

Day 10
Why we haven’t touched it…

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She barely lived in it. It’s been vacant for 3 years now. I remember her helping paint the walls pink and purple stripes. The rollers were so big she could barely hold them up. She got her new white furniture with a side table, dresser and desk for all that homework that she had planned to do. Truth is, I can barely remember her sleeping in there. So many times she would end up in our bed due to sickness or if Stuart was traveling, not to mention all the nights in the hospital. If she slept in there one hundred nights I would be surprised.
But the room is all her. Her pajamas are still in the drawers, her dresses still hang in the closet and her shoes are still waiting to be worn. Her dresser is covered with pictures of her best friends, her family and “get well soon” cards from classmates. The bookshelves have her library books that I’m sure the Elementary school as decided not to ask for. Her desk is filled with drawings and notes that were never finished. There are beaded necklaces that we made in the hospital, seashells she collected, diaries with kittens on them and Taylor Swift CDs in every drawer you open. I have still not gone through it all because I’m always afraid of what I will find. Last year I found a Mother’s Day craft she made me at school just a month before she died that she never gave to me. That is when I just decided to close things up for awhile.


There are books out there for everything these days when it deals with children. “What to expect when you are expecting” was supposed to be the roadmap for pregnancy to follow. Where is the book on “What to expect when you aren’t expecting?” Where is the manual for parents on how to deal with things like this? I need a roadmap and here are some things I need to know…


1. What do I do with her clothes and when do I start to actually do something with them? Do I make her clothes into blankets and give them to people? Is that creepy?
2. What do I keep and what is junk? Do I keep everything that she ever wrote on? If I throw it away will I regret I did that?
3. How long do I keep this room going like this? Am I supposed to have a little girl’s twin bed in there forever?
4. If I make her room something else, what do I do with it? If I make it into another guest bedroom will people be wigged out sleeping in there? Feels even more disrespectful to make it into an office or something.
5. What do I do with her furniture? Is that another thing I will get rid of and then regret I got rid of it? I keep finding places on her furniture that she actually wrote her name on. Seriously?
6. Do I put her stuff in storage?
7. When do I do all of this? At what point is it okay to have her room still the same, and at what point does it become creepy? When will people start saying, “I think it’s time they did something with that room.” I definitely want to do something with it before that conversation starts happening.


All these counselors will tell you that this stuff should be done whenever you are ready. There is no timeframe that should occur. But there has got to be. There is definitely a line out there in the universe that you cross too soon or too late. It still feels too soon to me because every season I think I can tackle clothing and I just crumble. But, I know it all can’t stay like that forever. It eventually will need to be tackled, just not sure on the rules for this stuff.

-Isabella’s mommy


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Why I am Not a Nut Job

Written by Erin Santos, Isabella’s Mommy & President of The Isabella Santos Foundation

DAy 9Day 9
Why I’m not a nut job…

September comes around and I feel the urge to write. There is so much stuff out there written this month for Childhood Cancer Awareness month. Some of it applies to my situation, but some of it doesn’t. Some of it is weird. Hell, my writings are probably weird. But they are relevant to me because they are my life stories. However, they are not my every day life stories.

I get to log in and see all the great comments of Facebook when we push these blogs. Everyone is so positive and supportive on each of my posts. One common theme though seems to be worry about my mental state. I get it. I realize that I must sounds like a complete nut job in these posts. Truth is though; these posts represent about 5% of what is going on my brain. I just pull them out this month and talk about them openly with total strangers. Okay, maybe that is a little bit of nut job behavior.

Every day I am honestly just living my life. There are plenty of days that go by where I don’t think about the horrible movie I was in. I’m like most of you who think about work, or what the kids have going on today, or where I left those expensive pair of jeans I just bought, or which guy the Bachelorette is going to end up with. I’m able to walk by her room without thinking too much about either. Her room has been vacant now for 3 years, which is longer than she even lived in it. Sophia is growing out of the last remaining bit of her clothes, so unless I’m looking for something specific, her items are finally being filled away.

I’ve even seen her pictures so many times through the Foundation that they are beginning to seem like those pictures that come free in frames of people laughing and enjoying their lives. I have to remind myself that it is Isabella in that photo or better yet her and I in that photo, otherwise I tend to walk right past it. The only pictures that get me are the ones that catch me off guard that I have never seen or forget that I took. Those rattle me.

When you see me out and about, I look normal. I act normal. I seem normal. Actually, I’m starting to feel normal. I know the times of year when I can be a nut job and I tend to keep those days very hidden from the public. Her birthday is hard; the day she passed away seems even harder. Holidays are getting easier. I find that I even hide out less at the race; I’m actually out mingling with the masses. Where as years ago, I was hiding under the silent auction tables. ☺

I think my every day grief has presented itself in the form of little ticks I have. Loud noises, high anxiety and losing the need to have people or touch in my life. I’m a little closed off, I don’t like to meet new people and I’m incapable of small talk. I crave being alone and could days without talking to anyone. But honestly, I think those are just issues that I’m developing as I’m getting older. Not sure if those have much to do with grief. That’s just normal Erin nut job stuff.

So while it may seem that I’m about to jump off a cliff during these posts, just know that it’s a moment in time for me and I’m really just sitting here on Facebook, eating a turkey sandwich still in my pajamas like the rest of you.

-Isabella’s mommy

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Why I Regret It

Written by Erin Santos, Isabella’s Mommy & President of The Isabella Santos Foundation

Day 8 QuoteDay 8
Why I regret it…

How do you make a decision on remains? How do you make a decision on a child’s remains? Questions like these are horrible and they are ones I never thought I would be making at the age of 35. The truth is, there is no right decision. I think that I made the decision based off what I wanted for myself. I had to think that when I’m gone, I’m gone. Light me up, put me in some box (hopefully a decent looking one), and take me to a beautiful place. Let the wind carry my ashes and scatter me somewhere I love. I don’t want to be put in a box in the ground and decay with the bugs. I especially don’t want to be put in some marble kitchen counter top looking apartment home for ashes. Creep. Out.

But when it’s your child, you just can’t do that.

There is no discussion with them on what their wishes are. Their only wish is not to die. They can’t grasp the concept that someone is doing something with you when you die. To them, people are just gone. Grant and Sophia still don’t really know what is going on behind that name plate when we visit her. Lots of questions like, “How did she get in there?” or “Who are all these people with her?” “How can they all fit in there?” Sophia still tries to peer into the holes and walks around it like it’s some magician’s table that has a trap door somewhere. Eventually we are going to have a horrible discussion with them on what actually happened. I don’t think it’s going to be pretty. I can’t imagine they are going to be comfortable with what we decided, and it may truthfully scare the shit out of them – or even worse – they’ll hate us for it.

I’m not really sure if we had another good option. I just could NOT pick out a casket. So much of that seems worse. Maybe it was all those years of watching Six Feet Under on HBO that wigged me out about the whole death process. Or those horror movies about people being buried alive. People have nightmares about that, right? Although I have to say that watching someone get burned alive on Game of Thrones makes me want to sob like a baby. Why did I do that to her?

Sometimes I miss her so much that I think about taking her box from the Calvary cemetery and hiding it in my house; just so I know she is here with us. I wouldn’t tell my family, it would be my little secret. Jesus, I sound like a nutcase. I really only thought about this once last Christmas, and I eventually would have put her back…I think.

By cremating her, I have lost the chance to ever lay with her. But really, what am I going to do? Bring a blanket and pillow out there? Do I think I’m going to bring a picnic lunch and sit out there on top of where she is? This is the really sick shit that goes through my mind sometimes! At least I would know that she was under me though. For some reason that brings me comfort.

I felt like I knew the right thing to do, so that is what we did…and now I regret it. Somehow I feel like if we chose the other path, we would have regretted that too. Point of the story is there is probably no right way to handle a child’s death. Her entire journey was a series of split second decisions you have to make and then deal with the repercussions of it your entire life.

I wish I could have been making other decisions like what color to paint my kitchen, or if I should check out that new Meryl Streep movie or wait till it comes out on RedBox. Instead, I’m in my 30s and deciding on how to ultimately end a child’s existence. That is some F’d up shit right there.

-Isabella’s mommy

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Why I Want To Come Back

Written by Erin Santos, Isabella’s Mommy & President of The Isabella Santos Foundation

Day 7 quoteDay 7
Why I want to come back…

For years I wanted to run from the Foundation. It was something I was pushed into and I loved what it was accomplishing, but I needed more in my life. After she passed away it was hard for me to do the work. It felt meaningless and silly. The main reason for all of this was Isabella and it just didn’t feel right asking if my cause was gone. So I started to step away. I was able to bring an employee in and keep things afloat so that I could figure out what I was doing with my life while the Foundation could continue to grow slowly.

I went back to work. I really just stuck my toe in. I took a part-time technology-consulting job where no one really knew of my story or of Isabella. It was refreshing to be around people that didn’t hold me with white gloves, worried at any moment that I would crack. I could go to this job and do something completely outside of her and it was just what I needed. I realized that I was good at something again that didn’t involve taking care of a child, telling a sob story or asking for a donation. It was just a normal job, and I loved it.

Then something happened. We had a meeting set up to talk with Levine’s Children’s Hospital about funding research here in Charlotte. Just a casual conversation about where the funds we just gave them should be placed and what future needs they may have. We sat at a conference room table with other Foundations, heads of the giving department and one of the pediatric oncologists that I knew from Isabella’s time during treatment. As our discussions began, I noticed something about myself. I was falling back into my old-self. I was energized, passionate, knowledgeable and commanding. I couldn’t get enough of the information and it began to feel like the only people talking in the room were the oncologist and myself.

The current state of Neuroblastoma, the clinical trials, the funding, the hosptials… I couldn’t get enough of it. I was thirsty for the knowledge and I could feel myself coming alive again. It became something different for me being in these conversations the second time around. Maybe it was because I no longer had a life on the line. It took the emotion out of the cause and made it just a little less personal for me. The piece that it took out was just enough to draw me back into it. I was charged up and at that point I realized. This is my purpose.

People search their entire life for their purpose. Some never find it. But here I was, a couple of year under 40 and I was looking at mine straight in the face. All these years of running from it, only to find out it was what I was put on this earth to do. It’s been two months since that conference room discussion and now it’s all I think about. I want to be involved with every single aspect of the Foundation. I want to spend the rest of my life figuring out how to make this little idea of ours into something that is known worldwide. I want to really see how much money we can raise if I devote all of my time to it. What could we really accomplish if we were funding this cause with every thing we had?

I’m making it my mission to figure that out.

I want to come back and I can’t wait to get started.

-Isabella’s mommy

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