Audra’s Story

It's hard to know where to even start because I feel like this endeavor we've named A Step Up is a culmination of my entire life story. We'll bypass the early stuff and start around five years ago. I had been married for 13 years with three kids. Call it a midlife crisis or marital problems or whatever, but in 2019 my then-husband Troy and I separated and later divorced. I moved to a small town outside Rochester and started my kids in a new school. They were all struggling immensely with all the changes. That summer on my middle child Ethan's 13th birthday, he had a tonic clonic (also known as a grand mal) seizure, and he would go on to have many more seizures and require lifelong medication to attempt to control them (he still struggles with seizures today). The following year the pandemic hit. We were all still having a very difficult time adjusting when unbelievably Ethan was diagnosed with cancer, completely unrelated to his epilepsy. Adding to the irony of the situation was the fact I'm a pediatric nurse at Mayo Clinic, working on the same unit where Ethan would be treated for his cancer. I've worked there since 2010, treating numerous other pediatric oncology patients. This turned out to be both a blessing and a curse, because I was a fantastic advocate for him yet knew what lay ahead. Ethan suffered multiple complications from treatment, including a stay in the PICU where a severe infection threatened his life. Those months during his treatment were my own personal hell on earth. I have so many indescribable vividly painful moments of seeing him suffer. The guilt I felt was crushing. I was certain all these things happening to my children were my punishment for the divorce.

In the months before his diagnosis, something very random had occurred on social media. I had a Ugandan man named Alex friend request me on Facebook. I saw we had a mutual friend in common who I went to church with, and this woman had an adopted child from Africa. I naively assumed at the time her child came from this orphanage and didn't think twice before accepting the request. Almost 100% of the time when people do this, it's a scam. People want your money and they lie. Oddly enough, Alex didn't ask me for money. He would just say hello on occasion or share something about one of the children in his care. I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I didn't think it odd that this man halfway across the world was randomly messaging me on occasion. I started paying closer attention to his posts because I've always loved children and was curious. And then Ethan got sick... I made a caringbridge website to keep people updated and posted about it online because I needed to talk about it or I'd go crazy. Alex started sending me encouraging messages. He sent me prayers and videos of the children and him praying for Ethan and letters they had written encouraging us. When Ethan was in the PICU, Alex and the 24 children in his care decided they would participate in the holy practice of fasting on behalf of Ethan, begging God to heal him.  I was desperate for anyone and anything that might help, and I video chatted with them several times. We developed a friendship over this time, and I learned the background stories of each child in his care. 

There were several other supporters Alex had from around the world, and we connected too. It reassured me to know other people had visited him in person and had seen the orphanage and children firsthand. 

During Ethan's treatment the idea to create a nonprofit organization arose in my mind so that we could channel the funds to Alex easier. Once his treatment was complete and he was declared in remission, I really started to dream about what an organization like that could do in Uganda. 

Those months in the hospital wrecked my family. Ethan had been struggling before all of the cancer stuff, but afterwards I was scared he would never be the same kid ever again. My daughter had been neglected by me because I had spent every waking minute with Ethan, and due to the pandemic she couldn't ever visit him in the hospital. When he rang that bell declaring he was cancer-free, I was finally able to let go and breathe. This was supposed to be the moment we all celebrated and gave shouts of joy. Everything would be great from here on out. We wouldn't need to worry anymore. But that's not what happened. For four months I hadn't done anything to take care of myself. I had barely slept. Images of my son laying in the PICU, looking like he was on his deathbed, haunted me day in and day out. I started self-harming whenever the painful memories of those days became too much. One day I couldn't get out of bed. All I wanted to do was sleep and not have those thoughts and images run through my mind anymore. I stayed in bed for three days straight. The following Monday was my birthday, and that's the day I realized how badly I needed to get help (if not for me, for my children). My love for them was greater than the pain in my mind. I checked myself into Generose, and that was the huge turning point for me. I began writing and journaling, pouring out all those feelings that had been bottled up inside me. The nurse who I connected with the most was from a small village in Africa, and I talked with her about Alex and the kids in his orphanage. It turned out her good friend Roselyn was from Uganda and still had family back home. 

One afternoon towards the end of my stay I was writing an uplifting poem about fighting to get back up on my feet. I titled it A Step Up (it's now hanging on a painting above my bed). I had been thinking about what I could call the nonprofit organization, and it came to me then that this would be the perfect name for it. One thing I had learned was I needed something positive to throw all that painful energy into, and this was it. I realized I needed this project more than they needed me. 

When I got home a couple days later and opened one of my notebooks I typically take to church with me (shoutout to Andy and Christy Cass at The Echo Church in Rochester, Minnesota), a page fell out, and goosebumps completely covered my body. They were notes from about a month before when the topic of the sermon was about taking steps forward...and our pastor had asked us all what our step was. I had written that my step was A Step Up. When I was writing that poem in Generose I had completely forgotten about the sermon, and it wasn't until getting home and coming across those notes that I remembered. 

At Mayo we see patients from all over the world. Last year I took care of an oncology patient named Kyle who came to Mayo for a second opinion. He was from Uganda, and his doctor there had told him he needed to have his leg amputated to save his life. At Mayo our doctors were able to save his leg, and he is now cancer-free and a healthy, active teenager. I had the pleasure of taking care of him and got to know him and his family fairly well. 

Last September I was able to travel to Uganda to finally meet Alex and the children in person. My driver was a friend of Roselyn, whom I met through that nurse when I was hospitalized. We were able to go meet Roselyn's mother one day too, and she actually lives just down the road from the new home we have built for Alex and the orphans.

I was able to spend time with Kyle and his family as well. They were able to make connections for me I never would have made otherwise assisting the orphanage. We are still in contact today. 

We just finished the brand new home for Alex, the 24 kids in his care, and a woman named Sauda who cooks all the meals and is the primary caregiver assisting Alex. They moved in about two weeks ago. It is a beautiful home that has been a long time coming. Now we are working on finding sponsorships for the children for food, school tuition, transportation, etc. 

I still work as a pediatric nurse for Mayo. It hurts sometimes when a patient reminds me of things that happened during Ethan's treatment, but I'm grateful for the connection I'm able to make with the other cancer families. It's something that changes your family forever, even after treatment is done, and it's something no one can understand unless you've been through it. I'm honored to walk this road with all the others and give them the best care possible. 

The future for A Step Up is looking so bright. I never in a million years would have imagined coming this far. I've been able to chase my dreams halfway across the world and have fallen in love with all these kids. I will keep sharing my story and looking for sponsorships until every one of them is covered and they each have the things every child should have--food, shelter, clothing, an education, and love.

As for my ex-husband Troy? We've been back together for a year and have never been happier ;)  Ethan has been in remission for three years and counting, and we are working on getting those seizures under control. His siblings Alaina and Vince are also doing really well. Nothing in life is ever picture perfect, but this is about as close to a fairytale ending as you can get. God's long-term plan has been so, so good.

Thanks for reading (if you've gotten this far).

With love,

Audra