Post by pedro el leon on Mar 27, 2007 19:17:57 GMT -5
www.yakima-herald.com/page/dis/288499114075942
Teammates rally behind teen with bone cancer
By SCOTT SPRUILL
YAKIMA HERALD-REPUBLIC
SARA GETTYS/Yakima Herald-Republic
Shayla Holwegner's teammates on the Spikers penned her
number, 11, on their hands when they played in the Northwest Junior Jamboree tournament last weekend. From left are Abbi Davison, Cati Mineard and Kelsey Dix.
Young as she is, Shayla Holwegner always saw it. Whatever the outcomes of the games we play, the true treasure of sports is being a teammate.
Trusting in those next to you, supporting and believing in them at any turn.
That's the kind of teammate Shayla was last fall as the starting middle blocker on Eisenhower High School's volleyball team and into the winter on the school's off-season club team, Spikers.
During those brief, still moments at the net, just before a serve sails into the back row during a tight match, the 6-foot sophomore might catch the attention of an outside hitter and the words wouldn't have to be spoken.
Come on girl, we can do this, her eyes would say. We're in this together.
These are subtle thoughts, little nuances of a game, shared among girls who would be sisters. But then along comes one shattering day when nothing is subtle anymore. When life isn't as simple as a high-five after a thundering spike or a consoling tap after a miss.
When now it's about her life.
KRIS HOLLAND/Yakima Herald-Republic file
Shayla Holwegner (No. 11) celebrates with Eisenhower teammate Cati Mineard after winning a first-game point against Davis in a match played Sept. 26.
It was one month ago today when Shayla, two weeks after her 16th birthday, suffered a badly broken leg while playing in a tournament in Pasco. While horrific enough -- a metal rod had to be surgically placed alongside her cracked left femur -- the injury revealed a far deeper problem.
Concerned with odd tissue found in the broken bone, doctors ordered a biopsy. It wasn't the scarring remnants of a previous stress fracture, as originally thought, but the unimaginable -- a rare form of bone cancer called osteosarcoma.
Rare hardly describes it. There are only 500 new cases of this type of cancer in the United States each year, and only half that number fall in Shayla's age group. Moreover, it's twice as common in boys as in girls.
While these are random cases with no detectable risk factors, osteosarcoma appears to be related to rapid bone growth in the teenage years. In Shayla's case, the tumor had weakened the bone over time and led to the fracture in her leg.
Renee and Michael Holwegner imparted these painful details to their daughter the night before taking her to Seattle to see a specialist.
"She was amazing," Renee says. "Her dad and I were much more emotional than her. She seemed to approach everything with a desire to just get to Seattle, get to the bottom of this and move forward."
Except that each attempted step forward in the following days was a step down into an even darker, more foreboding future. Each time there was news, it did not come with a smile.
The Holwegner family would have to be torn apart. Shayla and Renee would be forced to move to Seattle while Michael and Sadie, Shayla's eighth-grade sister, stayed behind in Yakima. Renee is staying with her daughter at the Ronald McDonald House near Children's Hospital, with eight to 10 months of arduous treatment ahead.
Since the move, doctors have discovered that the cancer has spread into both her lungs; some of the tumors are dangerously close to her heart and spine.
Given these complications, Shayla's desire to confront and contest the disease right now has been tempered with an extended need for patience. She must undergo three months of chemotherapy before doctors can operate on her leg -- a procedure grimly called limb salvation -- and that will be followed by another four to five months of chemical treatment before surgery can be done on her lungs.
As these ominous developments mounted, Michael finally said to a doctor one day, "It's time we hear some good news." And they finally got some.
Recent tests have shown that Shayla's other vital organs are clean, and the hope is that the chemotherapy treatments will shrink the infected areas of her lungs and make it easier to operate when that time comes.
Dealing with all this in a stoic manner that belies her age, Shayla understands the daunting challenges that face her and writes openly about them on her myspace.com site.
And that's what pains her as much as anything physical -- the uprooting from her school, her friends and her teammates. Instead of chatting in the hallways of Eisenhower, Shayla uses her blog, e-mails and text messages to stay in touch.
"I'm not resentful for this happening at all," she writes, "but I'm starting to find out that it's gonna be hard to stay positive."
She's getting help with that.
Shayla has discovered that the extent of her warm-hearted reach, especially through her passion for volleyball, is much greater than she ever realized.
As her story touches more and more people, what comes back is a different kind of medicine. And it's just what she needs.
Five days after she crumpled onto the Pasco court, Shayla and her family came to a Spikers practice to let everybody know it was much more than a broken leg.
Shayla wanted her dad to say these things because he had the best chance of getting through it without crying. Didn't work, but he got it out.
Shayla had cancer.
She was leaving town ... for nearly a year.
"It's wonderful that she has these girls behind her," Michael says. "Shay's at that age when kids keep their parents at arm's length, and that night we wanted so much to hug her. She was like, 'Not here, Dad.' But she got in the middle of those girls and hugged all of them. Before long they were all laughing and giggling."
Once the tears ebbed, one unanimous thought took over.
What can we do?
Maggie Olson, Shayla's club coach and a sophomore setter at Central Washington University, organized a support fund for Shayla and steered her players into action. They take turns writing letters to make sure she gets one each day. They bought her an iPod and filled it with music, started a scrapbook and toured Yakima's businesses last weekend circulating fliers about the Shayla Fund to help pay for Shayla's family housing in Seattle during her treatment.
"These girls are so close, and this way they can feel a part of it. They'll do anything," Olson says. "For me, I'm a young coach and I feel like an older sister most of the time. It's hit me so personally."
Sophomore Traci Schweyen, who was at Riverside Christian as a ninth-grader, quickly befriended Shayla when she arrived at Eisenhower and their inter-circles have overlapped ever since.
"Being away from her is the hardest part," Traci says. "She felt like she was losing all her friends and we have to make sure she knows that won't ever happen."
Once her teammates and friends got started, Shayla's story swept through Yakima and deep into volleyball's youth network. The circle has expanded out in a wave and is gaining speed still.
More than 200 club volleyball teams were in Yakima last weekend for the Northwest Junior Jamboree, and people from all over the Northwest came to know -- if they didn't already -- of Shayla's ordeal. Parents in the Spikers program, who have also planned a benefit yard sale, raffle and silent auction, manned concession stands where contributions poured in. And they definitely poured in, from a parent handing over a $20 bill for a hot dog -- keep the change -- or $10 for a cookie. This was an extended family reaching out for one of its own.
In Seattle, more spirit-
raising support literally walked through her door. The University of Washington volleyball team, which Shayla reveres, brought Husky gifts, signed a team ball and insisted she attend practices and matches this fall and become part of the team.
Knowing the special meaning of this to her daughter, Renee stood back and said a prayer of thanks. Please, she thought, let there be more.
There was.
Christal Morrison, an All-American hitter who was the MVP of the Huskies' national championship season in 2005, has been especially attentive. At the end of Shayla's first cycle of chemotherapy last week, Morrison brought a Jamba Juice to the hospital, hoping it was something she could keep down.
She managed. Until just after her idol left.
"Oh my gosh, the UW team was amazing," Shayla wrote in an e-mail. "Christal has really been great, though. She's gone out of her way ever since the first visit. She took my phone number and has kept in contact through this first round of chemo.
"These girls are all just amazing. It's crazy to think of me making an impact on them when it's always been the other way around."
It's still very early in this fight, but Shayla has aligned her defenses well whether she consciously means to or not. It's just the way she is.
Renee admires her daughter's brave qualities -- "feisty, stubborn and smart," Mom says -- and how she confronts the realities of her illness head-on.
But she is still just 16.
"It's complicated and I'm so scared," Shayla reveals through her blog. "It's easier to say that out loud than it is to think it."
She does not hold back, and that's how she deals with it best.
"I'm hoping a lot right now," Shayla adds. "I'm hoping I have two legs when I'm done, and I'm hoping I'm still alive and breathing. And I'm hoping that I'm going to be a success story for the next person that comes in with these rare complications.
"I can't wait to come back, and I hope everyone will be waiting for me because I need all the support and prayers I can get."
That's exactly what her teammates and extended volleyball family want to offer the friend they know as Shay. It's only a game they play, but they have discovered that true treasure.
We're in this together.
* Sports reporter Scott Spruill can be reached at 577-7686 or sspruill@yakimaherald.com.
______________________________
i wish they had a contact where you could help out or send money. i cannot stand seeing young people in this kind of situation. BTW, i'm really proud of what the Huskies are doing, especially Christal, that is a very kind thing to do.
Teammates rally behind teen with bone cancer
By SCOTT SPRUILL
YAKIMA HERALD-REPUBLIC
SARA GETTYS/Yakima Herald-Republic
Shayla Holwegner's teammates on the Spikers penned her
number, 11, on their hands when they played in the Northwest Junior Jamboree tournament last weekend. From left are Abbi Davison, Cati Mineard and Kelsey Dix.
Young as she is, Shayla Holwegner always saw it. Whatever the outcomes of the games we play, the true treasure of sports is being a teammate.
Trusting in those next to you, supporting and believing in them at any turn.
That's the kind of teammate Shayla was last fall as the starting middle blocker on Eisenhower High School's volleyball team and into the winter on the school's off-season club team, Spikers.
During those brief, still moments at the net, just before a serve sails into the back row during a tight match, the 6-foot sophomore might catch the attention of an outside hitter and the words wouldn't have to be spoken.
Come on girl, we can do this, her eyes would say. We're in this together.
These are subtle thoughts, little nuances of a game, shared among girls who would be sisters. But then along comes one shattering day when nothing is subtle anymore. When life isn't as simple as a high-five after a thundering spike or a consoling tap after a miss.
When now it's about her life.
KRIS HOLLAND/Yakima Herald-Republic file
Shayla Holwegner (No. 11) celebrates with Eisenhower teammate Cati Mineard after winning a first-game point against Davis in a match played Sept. 26.
It was one month ago today when Shayla, two weeks after her 16th birthday, suffered a badly broken leg while playing in a tournament in Pasco. While horrific enough -- a metal rod had to be surgically placed alongside her cracked left femur -- the injury revealed a far deeper problem.
Concerned with odd tissue found in the broken bone, doctors ordered a biopsy. It wasn't the scarring remnants of a previous stress fracture, as originally thought, but the unimaginable -- a rare form of bone cancer called osteosarcoma.
Rare hardly describes it. There are only 500 new cases of this type of cancer in the United States each year, and only half that number fall in Shayla's age group. Moreover, it's twice as common in boys as in girls.
While these are random cases with no detectable risk factors, osteosarcoma appears to be related to rapid bone growth in the teenage years. In Shayla's case, the tumor had weakened the bone over time and led to the fracture in her leg.
Renee and Michael Holwegner imparted these painful details to their daughter the night before taking her to Seattle to see a specialist.
"She was amazing," Renee says. "Her dad and I were much more emotional than her. She seemed to approach everything with a desire to just get to Seattle, get to the bottom of this and move forward."
Except that each attempted step forward in the following days was a step down into an even darker, more foreboding future. Each time there was news, it did not come with a smile.
The Holwegner family would have to be torn apart. Shayla and Renee would be forced to move to Seattle while Michael and Sadie, Shayla's eighth-grade sister, stayed behind in Yakima. Renee is staying with her daughter at the Ronald McDonald House near Children's Hospital, with eight to 10 months of arduous treatment ahead.
Since the move, doctors have discovered that the cancer has spread into both her lungs; some of the tumors are dangerously close to her heart and spine.
Given these complications, Shayla's desire to confront and contest the disease right now has been tempered with an extended need for patience. She must undergo three months of chemotherapy before doctors can operate on her leg -- a procedure grimly called limb salvation -- and that will be followed by another four to five months of chemical treatment before surgery can be done on her lungs.
As these ominous developments mounted, Michael finally said to a doctor one day, "It's time we hear some good news." And they finally got some.
Recent tests have shown that Shayla's other vital organs are clean, and the hope is that the chemotherapy treatments will shrink the infected areas of her lungs and make it easier to operate when that time comes.
Dealing with all this in a stoic manner that belies her age, Shayla understands the daunting challenges that face her and writes openly about them on her myspace.com site.
And that's what pains her as much as anything physical -- the uprooting from her school, her friends and her teammates. Instead of chatting in the hallways of Eisenhower, Shayla uses her blog, e-mails and text messages to stay in touch.
"I'm not resentful for this happening at all," she writes, "but I'm starting to find out that it's gonna be hard to stay positive."
She's getting help with that.
Shayla has discovered that the extent of her warm-hearted reach, especially through her passion for volleyball, is much greater than she ever realized.
As her story touches more and more people, what comes back is a different kind of medicine. And it's just what she needs.
Five days after she crumpled onto the Pasco court, Shayla and her family came to a Spikers practice to let everybody know it was much more than a broken leg.
Shayla wanted her dad to say these things because he had the best chance of getting through it without crying. Didn't work, but he got it out.
Shayla had cancer.
She was leaving town ... for nearly a year.
"It's wonderful that she has these girls behind her," Michael says. "Shay's at that age when kids keep their parents at arm's length, and that night we wanted so much to hug her. She was like, 'Not here, Dad.' But she got in the middle of those girls and hugged all of them. Before long they were all laughing and giggling."
Once the tears ebbed, one unanimous thought took over.
What can we do?
Maggie Olson, Shayla's club coach and a sophomore setter at Central Washington University, organized a support fund for Shayla and steered her players into action. They take turns writing letters to make sure she gets one each day. They bought her an iPod and filled it with music, started a scrapbook and toured Yakima's businesses last weekend circulating fliers about the Shayla Fund to help pay for Shayla's family housing in Seattle during her treatment.
"These girls are so close, and this way they can feel a part of it. They'll do anything," Olson says. "For me, I'm a young coach and I feel like an older sister most of the time. It's hit me so personally."
Sophomore Traci Schweyen, who was at Riverside Christian as a ninth-grader, quickly befriended Shayla when she arrived at Eisenhower and their inter-circles have overlapped ever since.
"Being away from her is the hardest part," Traci says. "She felt like she was losing all her friends and we have to make sure she knows that won't ever happen."
Once her teammates and friends got started, Shayla's story swept through Yakima and deep into volleyball's youth network. The circle has expanded out in a wave and is gaining speed still.
More than 200 club volleyball teams were in Yakima last weekend for the Northwest Junior Jamboree, and people from all over the Northwest came to know -- if they didn't already -- of Shayla's ordeal. Parents in the Spikers program, who have also planned a benefit yard sale, raffle and silent auction, manned concession stands where contributions poured in. And they definitely poured in, from a parent handing over a $20 bill for a hot dog -- keep the change -- or $10 for a cookie. This was an extended family reaching out for one of its own.
In Seattle, more spirit-
raising support literally walked through her door. The University of Washington volleyball team, which Shayla reveres, brought Husky gifts, signed a team ball and insisted she attend practices and matches this fall and become part of the team.
Knowing the special meaning of this to her daughter, Renee stood back and said a prayer of thanks. Please, she thought, let there be more.
There was.
Christal Morrison, an All-American hitter who was the MVP of the Huskies' national championship season in 2005, has been especially attentive. At the end of Shayla's first cycle of chemotherapy last week, Morrison brought a Jamba Juice to the hospital, hoping it was something she could keep down.
She managed. Until just after her idol left.
"Oh my gosh, the UW team was amazing," Shayla wrote in an e-mail. "Christal has really been great, though. She's gone out of her way ever since the first visit. She took my phone number and has kept in contact through this first round of chemo.
"These girls are all just amazing. It's crazy to think of me making an impact on them when it's always been the other way around."
It's still very early in this fight, but Shayla has aligned her defenses well whether she consciously means to or not. It's just the way she is.
Renee admires her daughter's brave qualities -- "feisty, stubborn and smart," Mom says -- and how she confronts the realities of her illness head-on.
But she is still just 16.
"It's complicated and I'm so scared," Shayla reveals through her blog. "It's easier to say that out loud than it is to think it."
She does not hold back, and that's how she deals with it best.
"I'm hoping a lot right now," Shayla adds. "I'm hoping I have two legs when I'm done, and I'm hoping I'm still alive and breathing. And I'm hoping that I'm going to be a success story for the next person that comes in with these rare complications.
"I can't wait to come back, and I hope everyone will be waiting for me because I need all the support and prayers I can get."
That's exactly what her teammates and extended volleyball family want to offer the friend they know as Shay. It's only a game they play, but they have discovered that true treasure.
We're in this together.
* Sports reporter Scott Spruill can be reached at 577-7686 or sspruill@yakimaherald.com.
______________________________
i wish they had a contact where you could help out or send money. i cannot stand seeing young people in this kind of situation. BTW, i'm really proud of what the Huskies are doing, especially Christal, that is a very kind thing to do.
