Attention all fathers:

When you learn that your son or daughter has been diagnosed with cancer, life as you once knew it will now be turned upside down and flipped inside out.

Maybe you were at work when you got the call. Maybe you came home and your spouse or family member told you. Or maybe, like me, you were there when the doctor pulled you out of the room to inform you of the diagnosis. In any way you received the information, you probably had a warming and numbing sensation that overtook your body as your brain began to process the effects this will now have your son or daughter, the family, and you as the patriarch, who provides a solid foundation of emotional support and strength for everyone to lean on.

My name is Scott Ramsey. My son, Justice, was diagnosed with leukemia on May 11, 2020. He had been having some issues with his stomach for two weeks, but we thought he was just constipated. But who stays constipated for two weeks, right? Finally, we went to the pediatrician. Due to the coronavirus requirements for him and his staff to wear masks, I couldn’t quite tell the look on his face every when he said, “I do not know exactly what is wrong with him, but he needs to go to the ER right now!”

After they ran the necessary labs and tests at the ER, the doctor took me to a small room that looked like it was designated for only two or three nurses or doctors to eat at one time. He said, “Your son’s white blood count should be around 10-15 thousand, but Justice’s is over 200k, which lets us know he has leukemia.”

I had to call my wife at work and have the doctor tell her the news. She broke down immediately. I picked her up and we followed the ambulance to the hospital.

There isn’t a guidebook or rulebook on how to feel or handle the sudden change of your child being diagnosed with cancer. Background, ethnicity, previous experiences with family members or friends who have had cancer, and now being a parent of a child with cancer will influence a father’s movements, thoughts, and behaviors as to how to handle the different situations that will occur during your child’s treatment.

It is perfectly okay to NOT know how to handle situations. It is perfectly okay to NOT know everything. It is truly humbling to feel like there is nothing you can do to fix this for your child. And as fathers, we want to be the heroes and save our children.

During these times, please know that it is okay to begin or continue to develop more of a connective relationship with your child. Play video games, read books, have discussions, watch movies, and most of all, make them laugh. According to Madeleine L’Engle, “A good laugh heals a lot of hurts.” During our time at the hospital, I have made it my duty to make sure Justice laughs every single day. By doing that, it gives me, as a dad, some level of power to help keep him in good spirits throughout his treatments; it gives him reference points and memories to connect to in times when he may be nauseous, or have a headache, or just may be feeling yucky. Those times can help him push through the pain. These times can work for you and your child as well.

Trust in the process. No matter what your spiritual beliefs, please tap into that energy and continue to have faith. Take time each day to quiet yourself to tap into that energy to help you, your child, and other family members to be strong and know that everything will turn out fine – no matter what that means for you.

There will be a whirlwind of nurses, doctors, discussions, and sleepless nights on hospital benches and sleep rooms. They will come and go and the treatments will be temporary. As you continue this journey, just know that you are not alone. Talk to other dads, be open and vulnerable to speak with family and friends to make sure your energy stays positive for your child.

This will let your child know, if they did not before, how much you love them as their parent, but more importantly as their father.

Much love, respect, and support!

S. Ramsey