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There was always about an hour and a half after my blood was drawn until I met my transplant doctor in Outpatient Clinic E. I had made the trek from northern California to Stanford Hospital many times since receiving my bone marrow transplant in February of 2009.
It wasn’t a long walk from the blood lab to the hospital’s E1 Transplant Unit. But it was always a walk filled with anticipation. I looked forward to spending as much of that precious hour and a half visiting with many of the nurses, medical assistants, and other staff, who in my mind and heart were like family.
Our visit that day was similar to the others. I always brought fresh-baked brownies that were swiftly consumed within minutes of placing them on the counter at the nurse’s station. There were lots of laughs and smiles. It was always the bolt of lightening my spirit needed.
In the midst of the chatter, and the muffled sounds of full-mouth brownie munching, several nurses who had been part of my care team pulled me aside. “We were just talking about you the other day, Robert,” they said. It caught me off guard.
They went on to share their experiences at a conference on pediatric stem cell transplantation they had recently attended. The gals described walking the aisles of the “trade show” floor when the conference seminars had concluded. “We noticed there wasn’t a single book or any other resource available for kids in the 9 to 12 year old range going through stem cell transplants.” I was curious as to where our conversation was headed.
The gals continued, “We thought of you right away. We think you should write and illustrate that book. There’s nothing out there for those kids.” At first, a sense of dread kind of washed over me as the magnitude of their proposal began to sink in. “Oh my gosh, you guys. Really?” I replied. “There’s not a single book on the market for those kids, that age range?” They shook their heads almost in unison. “Nope. And we know that you can do it. You’ve written those other books, right? This could be your new project.”
Over the next few minutes, those amazing nurses got me to the point where I promised I would at least consider the project, at least do some snooping around online to see what was out there. But I told the gals that for a variety of reasons, the timing was bad for diving into such a huge undertaking. That was a true statement, but if I’m totally honest, I have to admit I was just a wee bit scared to death (!) at the thought of not just writing the book but illustrating it as well.
On the trip home, I tried to recall if I had ever drawn any cartoons when I was a patient on the unit, or showed my nurses anything that would have in any way led them to believe I had the chops to write and illustrate a children’s book—a children’s book! That question wasn’t answered. But after returning home, I began snooping around online to find any book, even a coloring book, anything that proved my nurses wrong.
I needed an “ah-ha!” moment.
That didn’t happen. Rather, what I found was precisely what my nurses had described. Beyond several books tailored to very young children, I didn’t find anything solid that addressed the slightly older 9 to 12 year age range. There were plenty of resources for kids with cancer, especially Leukemia, but not to help them through a stem cell transplant, which is its own unique ball of nastiness.
That realization was the push needed to begin the process of research and formulating a loose framework for what still felt like a gigantic task. I never even thought about the illustrations. Ha! But after six months of work, the project stalled. Dealing with new complications of my transplant occupied much of my time and energy. That was near the end of 2015. The big stack of research sat idle until July 23 of 2019. By that time, I was in a place where I felt I could fire up the engine and get back to the business of writing.
For a second time, I never thought about the illustrations. Okay, perhaps for a moment; long enough to recall doing some illustrations many years prior for fun and profit, when I was young and had hair.
Never for a book.
With a good chunk of the research already completed, I was able to begin writing the first draft of the yet untitled book to help kids find their way through a stem cell transplant. It took about four months to complete the initial draft. Cool. Now what?
Uh oh… those illustrations…
That work began with an initial concept sketch of "Neutrophil,” a white blood cell who would serve as host and tour guide for readers. The illustrations required about eight months to complete—eight months of thinking “What were you thinking,” but also eight months of really enjoying the process. Many days of pushing colored pencils and ink allowed for reacquaintance with a past love.
Watching the volume of work grow and refining the manuscript along the way, I began to think those nurses who pulled me aside that day back in 2015 were right. Working on this project to help kids navigate the same path I traveled in 2009—making more lemonade from lemons—was an honor and privilege.
My nurses were right. And I’m very thankful they entrusted me with their vision.
It wasn’t a long walk from the blood lab to the hospital’s E1 Transplant Unit. But it was always a walk filled with anticipation. I looked forward to spending as much of that precious hour and a half visiting with many of the nurses, medical assistants, and other staff, who in my mind and heart were like family.
Our visit that day was similar to the others. I always brought fresh-baked brownies that were swiftly consumed within minutes of placing them on the counter at the nurse’s station. There were lots of laughs and smiles. It was always the bolt of lightening my spirit needed.
In the midst of the chatter, and the muffled sounds of full-mouth brownie munching, several nurses who had been part of my care team pulled me aside. “We were just talking about you the other day, Robert,” they said. It caught me off guard.
They went on to share their experiences at a conference on pediatric stem cell transplantation they had recently attended. The gals described walking the aisles of the “trade show” floor when the conference seminars had concluded. “We noticed there wasn’t a single book or any other resource available for kids in the 9 to 12 year old range going through stem cell transplants.” I was curious as to where our conversation was headed.
The gals continued, “We thought of you right away. We think you should write and illustrate that book. There’s nothing out there for those kids.” At first, a sense of dread kind of washed over me as the magnitude of their proposal began to sink in. “Oh my gosh, you guys. Really?” I replied. “There’s not a single book on the market for those kids, that age range?” They shook their heads almost in unison. “Nope. And we know that you can do it. You’ve written those other books, right? This could be your new project.”
Over the next few minutes, those amazing nurses got me to the point where I promised I would at least consider the project, at least do some snooping around online to see what was out there. But I told the gals that for a variety of reasons, the timing was bad for diving into such a huge undertaking. That was a true statement, but if I’m totally honest, I have to admit I was just a wee bit scared to death (!) at the thought of not just writing the book but illustrating it as well.
On the trip home, I tried to recall if I had ever drawn any cartoons when I was a patient on the unit, or showed my nurses anything that would have in any way led them to believe I had the chops to write and illustrate a children’s book—a children’s book! That question wasn’t answered. But after returning home, I began snooping around online to find any book, even a coloring book, anything that proved my nurses wrong.
I needed an “ah-ha!” moment.
That didn’t happen. Rather, what I found was precisely what my nurses had described. Beyond several books tailored to very young children, I didn’t find anything solid that addressed the slightly older 9 to 12 year age range. There were plenty of resources for kids with cancer, especially Leukemia, but not to help them through a stem cell transplant, which is its own unique ball of nastiness.
That realization was the push needed to begin the process of research and formulating a loose framework for what still felt like a gigantic task. I never even thought about the illustrations. Ha! But after six months of work, the project stalled. Dealing with new complications of my transplant occupied much of my time and energy. That was near the end of 2015. The big stack of research sat idle until July 23 of 2019. By that time, I was in a place where I felt I could fire up the engine and get back to the business of writing.
For a second time, I never thought about the illustrations. Okay, perhaps for a moment; long enough to recall doing some illustrations many years prior for fun and profit, when I was young and had hair.
Never for a book.
With a good chunk of the research already completed, I was able to begin writing the first draft of the yet untitled book to help kids find their way through a stem cell transplant. It took about four months to complete the initial draft. Cool. Now what?
Uh oh… those illustrations…
That work began with an initial concept sketch of "Neutrophil,” a white blood cell who would serve as host and tour guide for readers. The illustrations required about eight months to complete—eight months of thinking “What were you thinking,” but also eight months of really enjoying the process. Many days of pushing colored pencils and ink allowed for reacquaintance with a past love.
Watching the volume of work grow and refining the manuscript along the way, I began to think those nurses who pulled me aside that day back in 2015 were right. Working on this project to help kids navigate the same path I traveled in 2009—making more lemonade from lemons—was an honor and privilege.
My nurses were right. And I’m very thankful they entrusted me with their vision.