Owen's Corner

09/06/2025

Owen had his procedure this morning for a nasal endoscopy. The surgeons were thorough in removing any nasal tissue that looked suspicious for fungal infection and sent samples out for testing so they can determine exactly what kind of fungus we are dealing with. They also took a biopsy from his ear canal since it looked concerning.

He is now back in his room, resting and very sleepy from the anesthesia. We won’t know the full extent or seriousness of the fungal infection yet—only that he does have one. The doctors, oncologists, and surgeons are acting quickly because they understand how serious fungal infections can be in children with weakened immune systems. Owen will likely need more procedures like this while we remain in the hospital, so the team can keep checking and making sure he is growing back healthy nasal tissue lining.

The infectious disease team explained that this type of fungus is something that exists in our everyday environment. A healthy person’s immune system, with strong white blood cells, can keep it in check without any issue. But for Owen, with no immune defenses, it can take hold even when we’ve done everything right.

We are grateful to be in the right place, surrounded by doctors who know exactly how to handle this, and we continue to thank Jehovah God for guiding us here at the right time.

09/04/2025

We’re waiting with Owen as he prepares for a procedure on his nasal passage. He’s had two scopes done while awake, which were very uncomfortable, so the ENT doctors have decided to put him under anesthesia this time to get a clearer look. They need to rule out any fungal or mold growth in his nasal tissue, as this could be life-threatening with his immunity level currently at zero. The surgeon will also check his ear canal, which is completely shut from inflammation, to make sure nothing harmful is hiding there. Afterward, Owen will undergo a spinal tap and receive chemo infusion therapy into his spine. It’s another stressful day for Owen and for us, especially since he hasn’t been able to drink anything since last night. We deeply appreciate your prayers and shares.

08/29/2025

Update on Owen

We are currently on the Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders floor, which is Owen’s usual floor for outpatient treatments. We are so thankful to the ER team for quickly identifying that Owen was in septic shock and getting us up to the ICU, where the doctors were able to stabilize his blood pressure and bring his heart rate back to normal. Owen spent 48 hours in the ICU before being moved here, and they were even able to remove two IV lines from his arm—another step forward.

Owen has contracted a bacteria called Pseudomonas. While it’s common in the environment, it can cause serious infections in people with weakened immune systems. Since Owen’s white blood cell count is very low right now, his body is more vulnerable. The doctors explained the plan—he’ll need 10–14 days of antibiotics, but he may be able to go home sooner if he can switch from IV to oral medication. For that to happen, his blood counts need to recover, and he must remain fever-free. Which he is close to reaching that time marker.

Owen is still experiencing a lot of nausea and significant ear pain. A CT scan showed a pocket of fluid in his parotid gland, which is inflamed, and this explains the intense ear pain he has been feeling. The doctors are closely monitoring it, and we’re hopeful it will improve with treatment. While Owen is here, he will also continue his chemotherapy treatments, and next Thursday he is scheduled for his lumbar procedure.

Oliver and I are staying with Owen throughout his hospital stay, and Eman is with us whenever work allows. It’s hard being here, and Owen is eager to be home, but we are grateful to Jehovah for guiding us to the ER when we needed to, and for the care Owen is receiving now.

Each day that passes brings us one step closer to the end of this treatment.

We are deeply thankful for our community—the love, prayers, and support mean so much to us. With Jehovah’s help, we will get through this hurdle and be back home soon.

07/11/2025

What Nobody Talks About

Nobody talks about what it’s really like when your child is going through chemo.

Nobody talks about how it affects them — the meds, the anesthesia, the way their bodies and minds react. Nobody talks about the bad days in clinic.

Nobody talks about trying to get your child dressed for an appointment while they refuse to move, to speak, to cooperate — because they’re exhausted from a battle they didn’t choose.

Nobody talks about having to physically dress your child. Or carry them when they scream "no" and cry, and hit you — not out of hate, but because they’ve lost all control since the day they were diagnosed.

He’s not a “warrior.” Warriors get to choose how they train for battle.

Owen doesn’t get to choose. He doesn’t choose when to have chemo. He doesn’t get breaks when it’s too much. The doctors are focused on saving his life, but he’s the one enduring the cost.

Nobody talks about what happens when he wakes up from anesthesia angry, frustrated, and refusing to cooperate — even with the nurses, let alone me.

Nobody talks about the specific chemo drugs that come with dangerous side effects, like a sudden drop in blood pressure — the ones where he has to be monitored closely.

Nobody talks about fighting your child just to keep a finger monitor on — while he screams, “I DON’T CARE, I DON’T WANT IT ON MY FINGER,” and hits your arm in frustration.

Nobody talks about the mental toll this takes on us — the caregivers, the parents, the ones holding it together so their child can fall apart.

Not every day is a “good day.” No two days are the same. Some days, Owen simply isn't having it. And that's okay.

I need you to know this isn’t the whole picture you see on social media. Yes, we share his good days — because those are the moments we cling to. But behind those smiles are real struggles.

He is responding well to treatment. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t breaking him down in other ways.

This is real life. It’s hard, it’s exhausting, and it hurts in places you don’t talk about. But we’re still here. Holding on.

And that matters, too.

07/04/2025

Update on Owen:

It’s been a while since I’ve posted. We were finally able to go home on the 26th — the first time in a month and a half. Instead of only receiving chemo on Thursdays at the clinic, Owen now takes a daily chemo medication at night and receives injections from Friday through Sunday each week. I give him anti-nausea medicine before his chemo, and it’s been working well to give it at night so he can sleep through most of the nausea.

We were home for six days before heading back to Dallas for his Thursday chemo appointment. It was a longer day than usual, but Owen did great. We’re back home now, and he has another weekend of injections before he gets a two-week break. The shots are not his favorite part, but he says they’re not that bad.

This round of chemo has made him more nauseated, and his appetite has decreased since he’s no longer on steroids. We’re learning to take it one day at a time — no day or even minute is the same. Chemo brings a lot of unpredictable side effects, and we’re along for the ride. We are so thankful every day that Jehovah has given us this time with Owen, and we’re grateful his body is responding well to the treatment.

Prayers continue, along with hopes for a future when these treatments will just be fleeting memories of the past. Thank you for all your prayers and continued support.

06/24/2025

Owenito

06/24/2025

Owen Update
Owen just completed five consecutive days of chemo infusions to kick off Phase 2 of his treatment. This particular type of chemo has been highly effective in previous phases at targeting and eliminating the cancer cells. He’ll receive this same treatment twice during Phase 2.
Last night, Owen was able to take a shower and rest on clean sheets—something that may seem small but brought a real sense of comfort. It’s the little things that make a big difference.
He now gets a two-day break before heading back to clinic on Thursday for his weekly infusion appointment. We'll be in Dallas every Thursday moving forward. Some weeks we may need to stay a few days at a time, and thanks to the Ronald McDonald House, that’s been made possible. We are incredibly grateful.
We thank Jehovah for making the path forward so clear and providing what Owen needs every step of the way.
The first five infusion days of this phase were relatively short—about an hour each. But the upcoming weekly infusion days will be a bit longer, which may leave Owen more fatigued. While he’ll only need to be in the clinic once a week, he will continue to receive daily chemotherapy at home.
This weekend, something profound shifted in how we view Owen. A fellow child patient reminded us that a warrior is someone who chooses to train for battle. Owen never asked for this. He didn’t prepare for it, and he certainly never wanted it. And yet, he endures. Even on the days when he doesn't want to move or speak, he keeps going.
Owen is more than a warrior. He is an inspiration. A child with unwavering faith in Jehovah, deep love for his family, friends, and pets, and a strength that shines even in silence.
To everyone who’s been praying, sharing his story, and donating—thank you. Your support allows us to stay focused on helping Owen heal and to inspire others who may one day face this path.
With love and gratitude,
—Owen’s Family

06/20/2025

Owen’s Phase 2: Day 1

Phase 2 started today for Owen.

The morning didn’t start easy—it was met with resistance. Owen didn’t want to go back to the hospital. He didn’t want to do treatment. He just wasn’t having it, and honestly, who could blame him?

We sat in silence for a while. Then I went up and hugged him. I told him, “I know you don’t want to do treatment. A lot of things are happening to you that you have no control over—and it’s okay to feel scared.” After a few moments, he came around, and decided he wanted pizza before we left for Children’s Hospital.

We arrived right on time, valet parked, and wheeled into his appointment at 12:00 PM. After checking in, the nurse called us back to take Owen’s weight, height, and vitals. Then came the part we usually dread—his blood draw. In the past, this has ended in tears. But today was different. The tech used a cold numbing spray, and before Owen could even say “ow,” the blood was already being drawn. A small win, but a meaningful one.

Next, we headed to a different oncology room to meet with his oncologist. The doctor shared good news: Owen’s lumbar puncture came back negative—no cancer cells were found in his lumbar region. A huge relief!

Then, a different nurse came in along with a Child Life Mentor—someone who helps walk kids through potentially scary procedures, explaining everything step by step. They were preparing to access the port under Owen’s skin so he could receive his chemo infusion. Again, with some cleaning and a cold numbing spray, they were able to do it smoothly—Owen said he didn’t feel a thing. Another small but powerful victory.

From there, we moved to another part of the 6th floor—our home base for all in-house chemo clinic days. Owen ordered lunch while the chemo infusion was administered, which took about an hour.

This treatment is part of a five-day cycle that happens once a month during this phase. After today’s session, Owen had his usual post-chemo burst of energy. He and his brother raced around the Ronald McDonald House like little wild savages before finally settling down. Now, he’s resting in bed, waiting for his dad to join us for the night.

We’re incredibly thankful for all the prayers, kind thoughts, the continued sharing of our story, and the donations that keep pouring in. Not a day goes by that we don’t thank Jehovah for the amazing support system surrounding Owen. We are not alone.

06/17/2025

June 16th Update

Owen has been taking it easy the last couple of days, enjoying a much-needed break from chemo. He's been catching up on sleep and slowly regaining his strength. The doctors mentioned that it might take a few days for the steroids to work their way out of his system—hasn't quite happened yet, though! He's still eating like a horse, which we’re definitely not complaining about. It’s been really nice to see him have such a healthy appetite.

We still have a few days before he begins Phase 2 of treatment, so we’re soaking up these slower, more restful moments. We’re also hopeful to be back home the following week.

Thank you all, once again, for the continued love—through your prayers, kind messages, shares, and donations. We are deeply grateful for each and every one of you.

06/13/2025

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-owen-fight-leukemia/cl/o?lang=en_US&ts=1749840712&utm_campaign=fp_sharesheet&utm_content=amp13_c-amp14_t2-amp15_c&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link&attribution_id=sl%3Ab610d277-c0ba-46a7-8980-6e3249326bea&v=amp14_t2

04/20/2023

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdhISK4FtecqBXpDiRuVms3XZPpLdqcDyBxSviR6keJAH4Efg/viewform?usp=pp_url

We have immediate part time and full time remote openings for just the summer or for summer into the school year. The positions are extremely flexible, so we're able to work around other commitments (other jobs, sports, family vacations, etc;). Review the position description below, fill out the app...

01/30/2023