Three-year-old Aubrey and her best friend Sophie, 2, sat side-by-side savouring fluffy bites of cotton candy, as the circus swirled around them.
Aubrey was dressed from head to toe in soft pink tulle, wearing fairy wings and a crown of flowers, while holding a magic wand.
The friends watched illusions unfold before their wide eyes, filled with wonderment and the belief that anything is possible.
One thing is certain – today they are free to be kids.
On Tuesday, Aubrey was the star of her own circus in the Pipe Shop at the Shipyards, which was transformed into a big top, courtesy of the Make-A-Wish Foundation of B.C. and Yukon and their community partners.
While most kids who are sick dream for trips to Disneyland or Hawaii, Aubrey’s wish was more modest. She asked to share a circus experience with her friends who are past or present patients at BC Children’s Hospital.
Aubrey has always been open to sharing with others, says her dad.
When summer touched fall two years ago, Aubrey and her parents, Megan Davis and Allan Hirsch, started on a challenging journey they weren’t prepared for. The diagnosis came out of the blue.
“She had a fever and was pretty lethargic,” recalls Davis, who took her daughter to the doctor, fully expecting Aubrey to be back to her vivacious self in no time.
But when Aubrey didn’t get better, Davis brought her to BC Children's Hospital. The first-time mom thought it was “probably overkill.” It was far from that.
“They took one look at her, did bloodwork and within two hours we knew we were inpatients for a minimum of six months,” says Davis.
Aubrey was diagnosed with acute myelocytic leukemia, a cancer that starts in blood stem cells and develops quickly. The doctors knew early on that Aubrey would need a bone marrow transplant.
After a worldwide search, a bone-marrow match for Aubrey was found, but in the end the person decided not to donate. Plan B was Aubrey’s dad, who was a half-match and became her donor.
“The difficult aspect of that is not to be too down on yourself if it doesn’t work or something goes wrong,” says Hirsch. “You can just hope for the best, knowing that it’s the best possible option to have.”
For six months – in toddler years, no less – Aubrey lived on her hospital bed in isolation, hooked up to an IV tree full time. Her window looked into a playroom, so Aubrey would perch on her bed and watch the other kids enjoy a break from their treatment.
“She’s just been a trooper through all of this,” says Hirsch.
Aubrey’s parents would keep her spirits up while she was in seclusion, with lots of singing and dancing. They wore out The Little Mermaid soundtrack.
“It’s almost harder in retrospect,” says Aubrey’s mom. “Looking back at pictures, it takes my breath away. But when you’re in it, you’re in it.”
Aubrey is a year and a half out of transplant. She has suffered some long-term complications associated with the intensity of the cancer treatment. Aubrey is mostly blind in her right eye, and some of her organs have been damaged.
But at the circus, Aubrey is not a cancer patient. She prances around the Pipe Shop with unbridled energy and a smile on her face.
On Aubrey’s dream day there was endless candy served by a circus performer orbiting the room in a mobile carousel. Contortionists, aerialists, a juggler and a magician entertained the guests.
Two North Vancouver companies were instrumental in pulling off Aubrey’s day at the circus. Communities are called upon to help with the 130 or so wishes that are granted each year, says Stuart Chase, marketing and communications director with Make-A-Wish B.C. and Yukon.
“In this case, Vancouver Circus School stepped right up, and the Pipe Shop (events venue) came forward,” says Chase. “That’s part of the magic of a wish, is how people are willing to come together to grant a wish.”
Aubrey’s mom and Sophie’s mom became friends in university. Years later, they would learn their daughters had the same type of cancer.
The biggest piece of advice they have for other parents is to enjoy every moment with your child.
Her mom smiles as Aubrey’s effervescent personality on is full display. For one afternoon, the family forgets they live with a 50 per cent chance that Aubrey might relapse.
Aubrey has big dreams. She says she wants to go to moon and scoop ice cream, or that she wants to be a mermaid when she grows up.
Her parents just enrolled Aubrey in gymnastics, and will watch as she leaps for the sky.
“You just have to keep that hope alive,” says her dad.
