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| November 11th, 2002, I signed into the family waiting area at 11:11am. That’s 11/11 at 11:11. That I remember. It would be 4 ½ hours before the surgeon would come out and tell me that my fifteen year old daughter, Leora, had cancer. The next five months would be an odyssey of medications, procedures and extended hospital stays. No one who ever knew her would ever be the same. |
| She didn't always understand about filtering words. But to those who knew & loved her, Leora had a huge heart. They called her Princess. She had everyone's back. She made it her job to bring her friends up when they were down. Leora loved to have fun, and her upbeat personality was infectious. You couldn't be near her and not feel good. Everything she did, she was passionate - good or bad, there was no half way with her. A few months after her fifteenth birthday, Leora was diagnosed with stage III Retroperitoneal Leiomyosarcoma (LMS). I realized the gravity of this diagnosis when I began searching the Internet, and reading about it. LMS is a cancer of the soft tissues in the body. It is aggressive and extremely rare. About four in a million cancer cases are LMS, usually occurring in patients from the ages of fifty to seventy. This cancer is characterized commonly by large, fast growing, very vascular tumors. It is resistant to radiation and chemotherapy. Surgery is the most effective treatment. There is no cure, and long term remission is uncommon. Very little is known about this cancer, as there have not been many studies, and there is not nearly enough funding for research.. The next five months become a blur of surgery, medications, treatments, radiation, chemotherapy, needles, poking, prodding, painful tests and procedures and five way too long hospital stays. When multiple tumors came just a month after she was released from the hospital the first time, Leora became inoperable. Her cancer was too aggressive, and we apparently could not keep up with surgery. We took a shot at chemotherapy. The amazing thing about Leora was her spirit. She always did whatever she had to do, no matter how bad the procedure or treatment was, and she did most of it all with a sense of humor and a smile. When we decided to try chemotherapy, she decided to become a redhead, and got a long VERY red wig, which she wore beautifully! She joked with the doctors, nurses, whomever she came in contact with. The ones who had no sense of humor, or were less than warm, however, did not get the sweet side of this child. Luckily, only a few times did I have to tell her doctor never to let So-and-so into her room again. The medical staff at the hospital was incredible. Considering how long her stays were, they did so much to make it feel like home. Leora was special to everyone who cared for her. I lost my job, and our place to live when Leora was in the hospital the first time for a month. WFOR local news on channel 4 covered Leora's cancer treatment on a news story to get her story out to the community for help. The South Florida community gave our family support and hope. My children and I witnessed the most selfless generosity we had ever seen. Friends and family of Tripp Scott, a local law firm, donated an apartment less than a mile from the hospital, and they came over and painted Leora's bedroom pink, like she had always wanted. City Furniture donated a beautiful brand new white bedroom set for her. It was wonderful for her to have this beautiful room, as she was in bed so much. I signed her up for ChemoAngels, an Internet program which matches chemo patients with their very own "angel", who writes and sends gifts. Angel Sheryl wrote her often and sent her little gifts in the mail. Leora's friends would come in droves. They kept her room decorated all in pink, her favorite color, and stuffed animals, flowers, and pictures. No one ever complained about how many kids were there, in fact they encouraged it. Leora never told her friends how sick she was. She said she didn't want them to worry about her, or treat her differently. She kept their spirits up as much as they did hers. During her chemotherapy, South Florida Make-A-Wish gave her every teenage girl's dream - a shopping spree. Nancy & Bruce Manno were her wish makers. They planned everything so perfectly for her, from the limo to the personal shopper to the dinner. Even though she was weakened by her chemo treatments, for one evening she was able to be a real kid again. We had trouble keeping up with her! She and her best friend Liz shopped til they dropped. When Leora was beginning her chemo, we had what I have since referred to as The Death Talk. We were laying on her bed talking, and she told me how she had been so worried about losing her hair. She had spent the weekend with one of her closest friends, Noelle, They apparently had a really deep talk, and she told me she had realized something much more important than losing her hair. What if the chemo didn't work? Then she asked me "Mommy, what if the chemo doesn't work? Am I going to die?" All I could tell her was that I don't know. We cried and we hugged each other. I promised her that we would do everything we could to make her well. She said she wasn't afraid of dying. She was afraid of what would happen to me if she did. We talked about her brothers, and how it is okay for brothers and sisters to fight. That doesn't mean you don't love each other. She seemed to be taking a mental and spiritual inventory to assess her life. She wrote a letter to God that day, and put her feelings out there to try and make sense of it all. As her health got worse, Leora became weaker. She spent months on pain medication just to keep the constant pain in check. Periodically she would have new problems or pain that was too great to be handled at home. Back in the hospital she could get some relief. Nothing we tried to do for her worked. Her cancer was winning. The tumors were getting bigger, and blocking more and more systems in her little body. We began to make end-of-life plans. As during her treatment, she entrusted me with everything. She never doubted that I was doing everything I could, and she was peaceful. After the Death Talk, we never spoke of death again. We did not need to. We all knew the truth. She just did what she had to, and so did I. My daughter was dying. The only issue now was her comfort. I thought she would want to go home to her pink room, but when it came time to go, she refused. She said she was afraid to leave her nurses and the hospital, so we stayed. I think now that she didn't want me to have to deal with her dying at home. Many things she knew better than I did. |
| Make-A-Wish Shopping Spree |
| Leora's Memorial Service- All pink |
| The first few weeks of April, Leora's health continued to decline, yet she still entertained her friends when she was up to it. They would come often. Sometimes they would just come and sit with her while she slept. When she felt halfway decent, they would watch TV or talk. They took pictures and brought her gifts. She hardly had an appetite, so many times they would order Orange Fanta, and bring Oreos or Yogurt. They would bring her movies to watch with her. I have never witnessed such a show of love. They kept coming through Easter, and she continued to get weaker, and her pain was getting worse. On April 24th I made the painful decision to stop her visitation. We kept her asleep with medication, because she was in too much pain to be awake. I needed time alone with my daughter. It was the last day her friends would see her alive. They all came to tell her goodbye that evening.. They wrote their last notes in the notebook we kept by the bed, and they cried and spoke to her-knowing on some level she could hear them. I spent the next two days like I had for the last five months- laying next to her, talking to her, reading her chart, watching Disney Channel, and pacing the hospital. The last words my daughter and I had said to each other was "I love you", and we had said everything we needed to say over the last five months. Now all I could do was tell her it was okay to let go, that I would be okay. On Saturday, Leora's boyfriend, Bruno, and his best friend Dennis, who was very close to her, came to visit. It was raining outside, and was a dreary day. Somehow I knew that morning that today was THE day. I couldn't figure out why she kept holding on. Everybody had come to see her, and I thought she would be ready. Some things we are just not meant to know. I left the two boys with her, and went downstairs. While I was gone, Dennis had left Bruno alone with Leora. When I came back, he was speaking very softly to her in her ear. We looked at some pictures together, and then he got up to leave. He said to me, "She looks like a beautiful princess". I do not know what Bruno said to my daughter that day, but it must have been what she was holding on for. About an hour after the boys left, her breathing changed. Leora left us late Saturday night April 26th, 2003. The following week we held a memorial at the clubhouse in the neighborhood where she grew up. I tried, but could not seem to get out of my own way that day. We arrived an hour late, and to my surprise, there was pink as far as the eye could see when we pulled up. Everyone was standing outside waiting for us - all dressed in pink. There were over a hundred people there. Many of the boys had borrowed pink socks, ties, shirts and bandannas from their sister to wear in honor of Leora. When I gave birth to Leora, I didn't know what her name meant. I just liked the way it sounded. I never imagined that this person who challenged me so, who made me laugh, drove me crazy, loved me more than anything and kept me strong would have such a huge impact on so many people. Leora's purpose in this life is clear. A very wise woman once told me that everyone in a person's life comes into it for a reason, whether they are there a short or long time. I miss my daughter, sometimes more than I can stand, but it is a selfish miss. |
| Leora is a Hebrew name meaning "my shining light" or "God's gift of light to me" It was said, mythologically, that Leora is all the light there is and that she was who blessed us with light......those who are blessed with this name are truly magical & powerful souls. |
| Leora was always different. She seemed to always be in such a hurry to grow up, and no one could stop her. We never knew then that she had a lot to do in a short amount of time. She was never at a loss for words, and had a smile that could light up the world. This child never stopped. She started speaking in sentences at 18 months, stopped napping at two, and would go until she dropped at night. She was difficult,and she was brilliant. She was a gifted child, physically beautiful with a silly sense of humor. Everyone who ever knew her still talks about her laugh and the goofy faces she made. She was a normal teenager- sometimes sullen and insecure, but she never realized the deep beauty she possessed, inside and out. She didn't major in tact, but she did major in honesty. |
| Princess Leora In Loving Memory of Leora Lynn Woodsmall 8/22/87 - 4/36/03 |
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