Completely Unexpected

I took on a part-time job this year as a home/hospital teacher because like most businesses, my husband's was hit by the economy and we found ourselves in a precarious situation financially.

For the whole year, I had 2 students. Both with cancer. One was Victor, a 3rd grader, who is being treated for leukemia. He's doing so well on chemotherapy, that you can't even tell he's sick. Every once in awhile he has to have a spinal tap, which I imagine is no fun, and he definitely has some learning disabilities beyond just being sick, but overall, Victor seems like he's going to be okay.

The other student was Joshua. He died on Saturday.

I first met Josh in September, after he had been diagnosed with a type of cancer that most kids don't get. I can't even pronounce the name. I spent anywhere from 3-5 hours a week with Josh and I watched from the sidelines as Doctors and Nurses treated him. Josh would talk to me about his illness, sometimes giving me more information than I wanted (" They don't like my poop today."). Sometimes his mom and dad would share just enough with me to let me know how my job was going to go that day.

In the beginning, Josh seemed like any other kid. Except he was extremely gifted. He was a fourth grader who could read at a 7th grade level, at least. He loved math. And he was very artistic. His favorite show was Sponge Bob. His favorite books were Diary of a Wimpy Kid and The Bible. His favorite football team was the Dallas Cowboys. His wish for the Make a Wish Foundation was to meet the Cowboys, but since he never was allowed out of the hospital, he got a Dell Laptop instead.

Shortly after Christmas, Josh had a bone marrow transplant. It was from an anonymous donor because none of his siblings or other family members were a match. We were told he would be in isolation for 6 weeks. I could still go in to teach him, but everyone had to wear a gown and gloves to see him to avoid passing infection. Josh had a terrible time with his body trying to accept the transplant. Sometimes I would go in and he would be bundled up in 3 or 4 blankets even though it was a beautiful day outside. He broke out in this horrible rash on his hands that kept him from being able to write and he had a hard time focusing, so he could only read short passages at a time. I started reading out loud to him and we did math the best we could.

My favorite day with Josh was the day I decided to show off to him that I knew how to make Oragami paper cranes. I told him the story of Sadako and 1,000 Cranes (good book, check it out) and how we used to teach all our 6th graders to make paper cranes. How our goal was to make 1,000 of them. I told Josh we could make a bunch and then make a mobile out of them and hang them in his hospital room. I brought the directions with me, but had a very hard time remembering how to make the cranes. Josh and I both struggled for an hour trying to make those cranes, giggling the whole time at our ineptness. I left him that day, telling him we'd try again the next day.

We finally got it figured out and we made a total of 10 cranes. Not 1,000, but he was pleased nonetheless and I felt like we had really accomplished something. He said, "This isn't really school, is it?" I said, "Sure. It counts toward your Art grade." He smiled at me and gave me his famous "thumbs up" sign.

By the time April came around I was considering handing Josh over to another teacher. Josh had a stomach infection, his liver was damaged, we weren't really doing anything except watching science videos and reading, I was thinking I might catch something because I was pregnant and my immune system was weaker, I had a hard time watching a 10 year old boy I had grown to care about deteriorate before my eyes...I talked about it with my husband and friends. I prayed about it. I came to no real conclusion, so I just kept going to see him.

Josh was moved to the ICU about a week and a half ago. I had gone to teach him, not knowing he had been moved to the ICU, and his mom took me back to see him. When I walked in, I told him, "Hey! I missed you!" His mom said, "He can't hear you." Then she leaned forward and whispered in his ear that Mrs. Ross was there to see him. He was having a hard time breathing, but he opened his eyes wider and gave me a thumbs up. I started crying. I told his mom he was an amazing kid. I wrote him a note that his mom said she would read to him. I told him to hang in there and that I would be back to read to him soon. I never saw him again.

I wanted to do honor to Josh somehow by writing this. I don't believe in coincidences, I believe in Divine Intervention. I still haven't figured out why Josh was given to me as a student. I can honestly say I don't think it's because he needed me. I did nothing different than any teacher I know would do. I don't know what I'm supposed to learn from this. I do know that the doctors and nurses at Loma Linda Hospital are amazing people and that Josh's parents are some of the most incredible human beings on the planet.

God Bless You, Josh. See you someday in Paradise.

Lisa