What Amy's Treat Means to Me

Ryan Kavanaugh

I am here today to say thank you to Amy's Treat. Just as their mission states, they provided solutions to the day-to-day difficulties in my mother Sheila's battle with breast cancer, and provided some unforgettable treats to renew the spirits of our entire family.

Mom's relationship with Amy started before Amy's Treat existed. My mother was an oncology nurse at Wentworth-Douglass Hospital, and Amy was her patient. My mom was a caretaker, for my sister and I, for her large family including six brothers and sisters, and in her profession. She worked in many areas of the medical field as a nurse, but I never saw her more proud of her work, more sure of her purpose, then when she joined the Seacoast Cancer center. It wasn't easy on her heart, but she relished the opportunity to sit down with a patient, to connect with them directly, to be a calm, reassuring voice in what is a brand new, often frightening journey for each new patient.

And then, in 2008, my mom found herself sitting in the patient's seat. She was diagnosed with breast cancer. And with the rest of her family: my sister, my wife, her dear close friends and family, I experienced the overwhelming journey of the life of a cancer patient. The doctor visits, the barrage of medical terms that we may have heard before, but were understanding for the first time. The piles of forms, the concerns about health insurance, medical leave from work, the drugs, the tests…and the waiting. Waiting for results, waiting to see if the drugs have had their desired effect. Many of our family get-togethers, by necessity, became strategy sessions, logistics meetings. And then we had our first experience with a gift from Amy's Treat.

A gift certificate for dinner. A fancy dinner in Kennebunk. Just in time to celebrate Mom's birthday. We needed to get dressed up. We piled into mom's Subaru and drove down from Portland together, We gathered around a candlelit table, ate well, drank wine, passed around pictures, laughed. For a moment we were free, our problems melted away. Our spirits were renewed.

My mom was a trooper, she seemed the poster child for her particular chemo regimen – through chemo and radiation, she never missed work. She continued managing, scheduling and nursing at the Express Care clinic she oversaw in Westbrook, Maine. She even picked up some per diem work at a nearby hospital's radiation unit, as she herself was undergoing treatment. She was even better able to connect with her patients, to calm their fears and frustrations, to offer support from a place of experience.

But after a few months of living “cancer free,” we learned that mom's cancer was more powerful than we had thought. It returned, metastasized, and it was clear that this bout would be different. There would be no more working. We were back to the tests, the waiting, the sickness, the paperwork. With the help of hospital social workers, we found that there were many resources available for patients like my mother – financial support for everything from medicine to monthly bills. But each of these came with its own series of confusing forms, and frustrating bureaucracy. By contrast, Amy's Treat offered help more like that of a kind neighbor, a family friend.

Mom was spending more and more time resting at home, and she soon realized her living room couch was painfully uncomfortable. She'd never sat down long enough before to notice. No sooner than she said “my back hurts” - there was a joyful, supportive group of friends at the door with a soft, cushy new couch for mom to relax on, courtesy of Amy's Treat. And one less difficulty to worry about.

Despite my Mom's fearless determination, her toughness, her unwillingness to give up, she was feeling worse last May when she came here, to Amy In Bloom. Still, she had her wonderful Wentworth-Douglass family waiting for her here and she was not going to miss it. She bought a beautiful new outfit. She ate. She laughed. And she experienced, yet again, the generosity of this group of people, the folks that make Amy's Treat possible.

As I understand it, she came very close to winning a large cash prize in the Heads or Tails raffle. She didn't win, but she was content with her consolation prize, a delicious collection of Lindt chocolates – only to find later that the winner had donated the cash prize to her too – an immense help in a time of mounting medical bills.

And then there was the generosity of the donor who won the coveted Red Sox tickets, right on top of the Green Monster in Fenway Park – easily the hottest ticket in all of New England. She learned of my mom's love of the Red Sox, and gave her the experience of a lifetime. And me too. I brought my mom down to Boston that June night, to perch atop that massive wall, and watch our favorite team. I remarked immediately at the breathtaking site – so this is how it looks when God watches a ballgame! The setting sun, the bright lights, John Lester's near no-hitter, Big Papi's long awaited 2nd home run of the season. The game was legendary. But for me and mom, it was something else.

It was an escape. Hard to believe, maybe, that you could find peace in stadium full of 30,000 screaming fans, but it was surprisingly quiet up there. It, literally, removed us from everyday for a few hours. And it lifted us.

When my mother passed away last July, a week after she celebrated her beloved grandson's 2nd birthday, there was little doubt what to tell people who asked what to do in her memory. “Make a donation to Amy's Treat,” we said. We knew firsthand the power that little lift can give when you're having a tough day, a tough month, a tough year. The good people at Amy's Treat told us that some of the money that was donated in Mom's memory was used for a teenager who lost his dad to cancer. The gift was drum lessons. A positive experience to help lift his spirits from a pain, and a loss that we were feeling too. And in a way, my Mom was able to pass along the gift she was given.

So, once again, I am here to say thank you. To Amy's Treat, the founders, the volunteers and board members who work tirelessly to make a difficult situation better for countless people. And especially to this audience. Because your generosity here today sets in motion a gift that will live on.