Elizabeth Carr
Elizabeth was a sweet, happy-go-lucky two-year-old, who loved her family, her dog, and Barney. One day when we were at a park, she said her neck was sore. We thought perhaps she had hurt herself on the swing, but the pain persisted. She was so little it was hard for her to communicate what she was feeling, but we knew something wasn’t right. Although doctors suggested a watch-and-wait approach, we asked them to do a scan. This revealed an aggressive brain cancer called Medulloblastoma, and she was immediately scheduled for surgery.
After a year of radiation and chemotherapy treatments, she started kindergarten, welcomed a second sister, and enjoyed life. We did annual checkups with the oncology team, and all was good until the summer of 2002, when she told us one day that she felt the same pain she had when she was little. We took her to Johns Hopkins, where they diagnosed a recurrence. We had been hopeful that getting to the 10-year marker would mean Elizabeth was cured, but we were grateful for the joy we shared as a family while she was with us.
She had an infectious laugh and a gentle spirit; she loved animals, sweets, the beach, doing crafts, and watching funny movies with her Dad. We were all with her when she died on February 24, 2003.