Timothy Dawkins

The week of Thanksgiving 1986, my husband and I travelled to St. Louis Children’s Hospital for diagnostic tests to be run on our 3-year-old son, Timothy. Two weeks prior, we had visited a local immediate care doctor for a suspected ear infection without fever. The immediate care doctor had taken a tissue sample from the ear, set up an appointment to examine the ear under sedation, and unbeknownst to us had sent a sample to the CDC. While waiting at the hospital for the exam, the attending physician informed us of a preliminary diagnosis of some type of cancer and referred us on to St. Louis Children’s, three hours away from our home and our other three young children. Our lives changed forever that day. On Thanksgiving Day, Tim began two years of treatment including five chemo drugs administered every four weeks through an intravenous catheter, six weeks of radiation to his head, five spinal taps, and because the treatment was so devastating to his small body, he was administered Total Peroneal Nutrition for 8 -12 hours a day. He survived the treatment. And then there were the side effects: Hearing loss leading to a diagnosis of auditory processing disorder plus the need for hearing aids; damage to the pituitary leading to injections of growth hormone from ages 5-17; learning disabilities that led to long, miserable nights of hours of work to complete a “20 minute” assignment; and finally seizures, caused by the radiation to his head, that despite adjustments in medications and doses were never fully under control. In spite of the obstacles he faced, he was a happy, loving, and energetic soul. Always trying to make the world a better place, he participated in anti-racism activities, environmental programs, and faith-based missions. He volunteered with community-based organizations repairing bikes to give to children in need and assisted with service projects. He was a member of his high school cross-country team and successfully advocated his participation to be included in his IEP. He worked at Timber Pointe Easter Seals Camp as a counsellor to children and adults with special needs and in the off season helped to maintain the grounds. He was a faithful member of his church youth group and woke early every Sunday morning to meet with them for breakfast before church services. And most especially he was a loving member of our family, always making us laugh, always willing to lend a hand around the house, the yard, or to just make someone else happy. He graduated from Normal Community HS and was attending Brescia University with hopes of being a social worker when he died on Easter Sunday 2003, 3 months before his 19th birthday, in bed from a seizure. His cure killed him. And while we continue to honor his memory and keep him alive in our hearts, we will never understand why he was taken from us so soon when he had endured so much to stay alive and had so very much to give to this world.