Lesson in Life : In Wedertz, They Find Compassion, Hope for Weak, Themselves
She is twirling slowly in the hallway like a tiny ballerina, dancing as little girls do to an orchestra all her own. Her hair is gone but for a few, thin tufts. Cancer and chemotherapy have taken a toll. As she walks, the portable IV unit to which she is attached trails her down the hall.
A few yards away, in room 328, Darren Wedertz is propped up in his hospital bed, trying to express the anguish he feels for his younger, cancer-ridden peers. Wedertz, 17, has been in the hospital for the last year, battling not only leukemia but the effects of the traumatic head injury he suffered from a football game last Nov. 6. He can barely speak, he is partially paralyzed on his left side, he is facing two more years of chemotherapy. But the only pity he feels is for the children outside his door.
They are the ones he prays for each night, the ones he aches to see get better. Unlike him, they didn’t experience 16 years of good health before getting sick, he says. Their concept of home is limited to the hospital. For some, it probably is all they’ve ever known. This tears at Wedertz’s heart like nothing else.
It is a remarkable thing. A boy who a year ago was a popular high school junior and football player at Santa Margarita High, now lying in a hospital bed worrying about children he barely knows. Children who, when feeling up to it, run up and down the halls, laughing and playing in spite of it all.
It will be some time before Wedertz can do the same, though this morning he takes a big step forward. He is going home. Home to his house in Mission Viejo. Home to his street that, thanks to several neighbors, will be decorated with balloons and banners. Home to a new downstairs bedroom equipped with TV, VCR, stereo, overhead fan and automatic bed--all with remote control.
It might seem little consolation, but for Wedertz and his family, his homecoming is a very special event. The house will seem complete again, the dinner table, too. Thanksgiving and Christmas will be Thanksgiving and Christmas again instead of holidays without Darren.
Charlene Wedertz said she always believed her son would pull through, even though doctors warned the family not to get its hopes too high. It was a year ago Saturday when Darren collapsed after making a tackle in a junior varsity game. He was rushed to a Mission Viejo trauma center, where doctors performed surgery to stop the bleeding in his brain. His leukemia wasn’t diagnosed until six days later.
Wedertz remained in a coma for four weeks, his friends and teammates holding prayer vigils in the halls outside his hospital door, singing psalms, getting shooed away when they stayed too late. Wedertz slowly came to, then managed his first word in more than a month: “Mom.”
In the months since, it has been anything but easy. A team of nearly 20 doctors and therapists worked with him daily, the combination of cancer and a head injury making his recovery all the more complicated. Chemotherapy seems endless. Wedertz’s thick, brown hair is gone. His scalp is marked by two large scars. To relieve the swelling in Wedertz’s brain, doctors surgically removed a large piece of his skull, keeping the bone frozen until reattaching it two months later. Between surgeries, Wedertz was required to wear a protective helmet whenever he got out of bed.
Through it all, the boy known as Santa Margarita’s ace practical joker has managed to keep his sense of humor. During a lesson on fractions at the in-house hospital “school,” Wedertz told the instructor he didn’t care to discuss pieces of pie--he preferred cheesecake. When his mother asked recently why he was teasing her so, he said don’t blame me, blame the doctor that fixed my brain.
His sister, Julie, 24, says sometimes she can’t believe it. Since the injury, Darren has never once cried, never once asked “why me?” He was frightened, she said, when he first understood he had leukemia. It’s in remission now, it could come back any time. Another relapse might require a bone marrow transplant. Still, Julie says, her brother has been nothing short of inspirational. His courage has to be witnessed to be believed.
The support from the community has been overwhelming. Darren’s bedroom is so packed with get-well posters, cards, stuffed animals and such, you can hardly walk through it. During his year in the hospital, Clipper Danny Manning came to visit, Muhammad Ali sent an autographed pair of boxing gloves, the USC football team (Darren’s favorite) sent a game jersey. Just recently, a father of a Santa Margarita student put up $38,000 to buy the Wedertzes a special van that accommodates wheelchairs. Charlene says she cannot possibly thank everyone enough.
Her son, whose short-term memory is now redeveloping, is still a little fuzzy on some old friends’ names and faces. That’s why his family keeps a “Memory Log” to record visitors names or important moments in his recovery: “Sept. 8--Recreation therapy. Sang a song about a bear . . . Sept. 22: Practiced using call light . . . Oct. 20: Worked on standing in parallel bars . . . “
Recovery might be slow. Wedertz is determined to get there. His goals--walking, showering without help, feeding himself--are basic to most, all-important to him. Asked what he wants most, he looks you in the eye and whispers three short words.
“My life back.”
Barbie Ludovise’s column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Ludovise by writing her at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, 92626, by calling (714) 966-5847 or by fax at 966-5663.