I just got an email at work, telling us that a co-worker (in another Region, someone I do not personally know) has a son, who went from a seemingly healthy 6 year old boy, to a boy battling a cancerous tumor in his brain in a matter of days.

It is one of those scary stories that we all believe happens to "someone else" but all fear might be us. It started with some vision problems, and with a few short days this woman and her family had been sent hundreds of miles away for hopefully life-saving treatment. It is telling that she shares that one of the doctor knows of "a" patient diagnosed with the same tumor in 1999 who is still alive, but its not the "normal".

Yikes.

Talk about a reminder that life is short, and to make the most of it.

My co-worker, the Mom of this boy, writes with optimism and hope and faith. She speaks of her boy being unchanged in the face of treatments and having his life completely uprooted. She is going to fight, go to the ends of the Earth, do everything and more to save his life.

She will probably fail.

I'm not being a downer, but statistically speaking, he will probably not make it. And this brings me to tears. I don't know this woman, I don't know her son. I can only guess the fear and anguish I would feel if I were in her position.

So I'll send hope and love and faith, and donate some of my sick time for my colleague to use, if my company permits it.

And I'll take the lesson to heart, and focus on moving toward my dreams, the things that bring me joy, the things I know in my soul to be important.

And do my best to let the rest of it go.

Little Foster, my prayers and hope and love are with you, your family, your doctors and nurses. You can do this, buddy, you can do this.