The Honorary Chairperson for the Eleventh Annual Treasuring Our Kids Candyland Fundraiser is four-year-old North Aurora resident Avery Quarles. When Avery was diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma at the tender age of ten months, his mother Amy (who was forced to leave her job as a Special Education teacher after 17 years to care for Avery) and father Corey (a current Network Administrator) knew their lives would become quite different. Throughout Avery’s cancer treatments at Advocate Lutheran General Hospital in Park Ridge, IL, the Quarles have appreciated the positive effects whenever Avery has visited the Treasure Chest. POTCF Founder and CEO Colleen Kisel interviewed Amy to gain insight into the family’s experience and was impressed with the remarkable courage they have shown in the face of adversity.

POTCF: Can you tell me about the time when Avery was diagnosed?

Amy: I noticed a bump on the right side of Avery’s nose when he was seven months old. We took him to a few doctors who all had a different theory. An MRI determined that it was a dermoid cyst. He underwent a craniotomy at ten months old. I received a phone call at work a few days later, and that is when I learned that it was actually Rhabdomyosarcoma.

POTCF: What type of treatment did Avery go through?

Amy: Initially, 42 weeks of chemotherapy. When he relapsed, he did another nine months of chemotherapy, 28 radiation treatments, and then finally surgery.

POTCF: Can you tell me about the hospitalizations/clinic?

Amy: We have been at the hospital every week for over three years now. There are too many inpatient stays and outpatient procedures to name at this point. Our cancer clinic is exceptional. The doctors, nurses and child life specialists have ensured that we have been well cared for since the beginning.

POTCF: What is the worst part of Avery’s treatment?

Amy: Consoling him during times of fear and helping him to endure it all.

POTCF: What is the best part, if there is a good part, of the clinic/hospital?

Amy: There are moments when we laugh and are silly. These are only made possible because of the staff and all the things that they bring to our rooms to try and provide Avery some distraction and fun.

POTCF: Can you tell me about the Treasure Chest at the hospital?

Amy: We have always been able to depend on the Treasure Chest when we are at clinic. When Avery was a lot younger, I knew I could choose something for him that would keep him distracted. Now that he is older, he knows that when we are finished at clinic, he can pick out whatever he wants from the Treasure Chest. This is a huge motivator for him. It helps us transition from clinic to the car and it helps Avery endure the long car ride home after an already very long morning.

POTCF: Did knowing Avery would receive a toy or gift card help the hospital/clinic experience?

Amy: Immensely!

POTCF: Did your relationships with friends and family change?

Amy: Yes, with all of them. You are forever changed and the way you relate to people and the rest of the world is forever changed. You cannot expect everyone to understand, nor would you want them to. Everyone continues on with their lives and all you want to do is scream about poor federal funding, toxic treatments and all the warrior angels! Other cancer moms become some of the only people who really get it.

POTCF: How did Avery’s siblings handle his cancer diagnosis and the aftermath?

Amy: His older brother Evan (now age five) was too little to understand and unfortunately it is all he has known. He does a great job of being compassionate and understanding, but then at other times he has said that he wished he had cancer too. Their little brains are trying to make sense of it all, and we just approach each day with honesty and reassurance. Avery’s two older sisters (Savannah, age 17 and Sydney, age 23), who live in Arizona, have gotten the shorter ends of the sticks because they have not been physically here with us. Visits were canceled due to COVID and they worried a lot. Everyone needs counseling in their own ways.

POTCF: Someone told me (Colleen) that my son’s cancer treatment would change me for the better. Has this changed you in any way?

Amy: Hmm . . . not sure I would have wanted to hear that and I’m pretty sure I still don’t. But I understand what that person meant. I am a completely changed person. My brain doesn’t think the same way anymore. I can’t unsee, unhear or unread the information that I hold. I see the world differently, life differently, relationships differently, motherhood differently, the list goes on and on. I want to sleep on the stairs of the White House until someone comes out and says, “Childhood cancer research is fully funded.” There is a burning in my chest that I didn’t know could exist.

POTCF: What would you say to a family who just learned their son or daughter had been diagnosed with cancer?

Amy: I talk to many families that are newly diagnosed. Most of them want to know two things: Are they at the right hospital and is their child going to live. To both of which I answer, yes. I let them talk. My job is to listen and validate. If the cancer is the same as Avery’s then I can share my exact experience and we can talk about all things regarding experts, treatments and what to expect. I tell Rhabdo parents that we have to fight like hell until we ring the bell. As afraid as we are of the toxic treatments, we have to hit Rhabdo with a sledgehammer. This is the best bet we have for survival.

POTCF: How did Avery’s siblings handle his cancer diagnosis and the aftermath?

Amy: His older brother Evan (now age five) was too little to understand and unfortunately it is all he has known. He does a great job of being compassionate and understanding, but then at other times he has said that he wished he had cancer too. Their little brains are trying to make sense of it all, and we just approach each day with honesty and reassurance. Avery’s two older sisters (Savannah, age 17 and Sydney, age 23), who live in Arizona, have gotten the shorter ends of the sticks because they have not been physically here with us. Visits were canceled due to COVID and they worried a lot. Everyone needs counseling in their own ways.

POTCF: What would you say to the Treasure Chest Foundation contributors? Please elaborate on the importance of their continued contributions.

Amy: I think it is hard to know the impact your dollar can make. Therefore, I want you to imagine a scared, tearful child who has just endured their port being accessed (so scary for all of them), sedation and spinal taps (for Leukemia patients), chemo treatments, nurses and doctors everywhere using really big words, having your port deaccessed (this is sometimes worse because of the bandage removal) and then you are just supposed to go home. I then want you to imagine being able to lean down to your precious baby and saying, “Would you like to pick something out of the Treasure Chest?” Their tears are dried as they approach the special box of wonder and for a moment both your superhero and you are lost in the fun of picking out any toy they want. You take a deep breath and walk out of clinic with your warrior and their new toy in hand. The Treasure Chest doesn’t take away the cancer, but it also makes sure that cancer doesn’t take away the joy.

POTCF: Please elaborate about the Treasure Chest Foundation, perhaps a personal story.

Amy: Baby Yoda day! Avery had experienced a really rough day at clinic. We knew we could rely on the Treasure Chest, but I had no expectations. As I helped raise the top, Avery gasped, “A Baby Yoda!!” It turned the whole day around. He took pictures with it, told everyone he received it, and couldn’t wait to get home to show his brother. These are the moments I wish donors could see.