Courtesy of Courtney Baugher
Shiloh Sciacca, a first-grader at VHEW who was diagnosed with cancer when he was in kindergarten, but was able to release balloons on Cancer Awareness Give Hope Day to celebrate his return to school and recovery.
I'm just a school nurse that happens to see kids that fight through medical problems as heroes, and I happen to love these heroes big — particularly this one.
Let me start off by explaining to you who he is, Shiloh Sciacca. He came to us as a kindergartner with a cancer diagnosis, a port in his chest, but with what, at the time, appeared to be a winning chance at beating this beast of an illness. However, it wasn't long before the conventional therapies he was receiving as well as a trial CAR-T immunotherapy both failed. His last hope was a bone marrow transplant.
So he walked out of the doors of Vestavia Hills Elementary West with his parents into the doors of Children’s of Alabama for one last shot at life. It was gut wrenching. No child, no family, no one was prepared for the fight that lay ahead, and a fight it was.
For 90 days he laid in bed at Children’s and fought for what at days seemed to be the end. On his birthday his family, friends, and school staff stood outside Children’s and released balloons.
We saw him high above watching from the windows and we all wept, and in that moment I made a promise that when he got out he would release his own balloons.
Well, Shiloh, being the fighter that he is, did make it out of those doors. So this year, as first grade began, so did he.
Slowly he is integrating back into the classroom as his body gains strength. Sept. 21 was Cancer Awareness Give Hope Day. I knew that this was the day for Shiloh to have his moment, his day. In true VHEW fashion everyone jumped on board, wearing yellow, and we handed out 800 yellow childhood cancer awareness bracelets.
The outside of the school was adorned in yellow balloons, and when the time came, I cut the balloon loose and gathered them.
Then Shiloh finally had the moment that statistically wasn't supposed to happen. His class gathered around and sang “Happy Birthday” to him and he released his own balloons. It was nothing but pure joy on his face.
It wasn't even his birthday, but that wasn't the point. The last time he couldn't hear us singing from the streets below his hospital room when we released his balloons. Not this time, and God willing, never again.
Courtesy of Courtney Baugher
