The doctors, nurses, and pharmacists who need to be here to administer chemotherapy to my Mom are on lockdown in their homes after a violent night shook my city to its core. An MIT police officer and one of the presumed Boston Marathon terrorists are dead. The other suspect is on the run, armed with rifles, explosives, and an icy cold heart, and he’s hell bent on going down with a firefight.
The cowardly attack on my beloved city has always been personal. My Mom—my source of beautiful, unfiltered light when my world turns dark— has recurrent, metastatic ovarian cancer. She needs this treatment to lessen the severity of her debilitating symptoms. She needs this treatment stay alive.
That sinister terrorist in the white hat—the one who actually dropped the bombs at the finish line—is screwing with my Mom’s chemo schedule and shutting down my city. Now it’s really personal. She’s been waiting three weeks for her platelets to rebound enough for her to get this treatment!
Police are knocking on doors, tipping over dumpsters, combing through cars, and making their presence known on every street corner. All I hear are the sounds of sirens, news reports playing on patients’ smartphones on full-volume, and a small group of nurses strategizing on how they can help people like my Mom.
I continue to be surrounded by heroes in this great city.
They just announced over the loud speakers that Dana-Farber is on full lockdown now. I will update you later. Stay #BostonStrong. We Are Boston.