Serena

Yesterday I went to Johns Hopkins to meet four-year-old Serena Lambert (with her mother Becky above), who is fighting Stage 4, high-risk neuroblastoma (a cancer that spread from her adrenals throughout her body). During the past year since her diagnosis, she's had seven high-dose chemotherapy treatments, a bone marrow transplant from her own body, and 12 rounds of radiation. And despite it all, she's the brightest little thing I've ever seen. She is bravery personified, going through a day-to-day barrage of procedures without complaint. And perhaps because of it all, there's a wisdom in her beautiful eyes.

I only had a little time with her, as her body had a bad reaction to the transfusion, which manifested itself in some scary symptoms like trouble breathing. During, Becky seemed so calm, as if it was another day at the office. Only after reading her blog did I learn that she was as scared as the rest of us.

I photographed Serena for her family, and also for an upcoming article in a local Baltimore paper to raise awareness for a fundraiser for Serena on July 25th. Anyone who is in the area, please try to make it out to spread some positive energy or give a donation - anything you can, the family can use both. I'm told the entire treatment costs around $1.5m, and though they have amazing health care, it only covers - at best - 90%.

For more information, download the fund raising event flyer or take a look at Serena's family's blog.

It's impossible to take life for granted after seeing such courage, acceptance, and understanding in a girl who's barely known anything else ...

Last weekend, I had a conversation with a homeless man in downtown Manhattan. It seems unrelated, but now I can't help but think of it juxtaposed with Serena. I just listened, and couldn't even get the chance to ask his name as he recounted his life story. He was in his mid forties with light crystal blue eyes and wore an old hospital bracelet. His father dealt drugs and his mother was an addict, so he and his brother would steal his dad's stash to sell at school and take all his mother's methadone when - later - she tried to get clean. He was an alcoholic and had tears running down his face when telling me about his brother's death. This man lives wherever he can live, sleeps wherever he can sleep, and beats himself down relentlessly. Beating his body down is his full-time job, and yet he's still going, heart beating strong, stumbling around the city and spending his time on earth aimless because he's broken - because nobody ever gave a shit about him. Ever.

And then there's Serena, with the world to live for, an unbelievable family around her and whole galaxy of friends or even near strangers who happen to have fallen in love with her spirit. And all of us in her world (though far removed, I'd like to consider myself its newest member) are about the task of willing her body to make good on its end of the bargain. But hope and willpower are a damn good medicine, and the Lamberts have more of it than I've ever seen, and for good reason. After meeting her, you can't help but think that full remission is not a possibility, but just a matter of time.

(click for larger photos)