Care beyond treatment: the compassion we found at St. Jude

Not many people know about the immense emotional support I received during one of the most difficult times in my life. I was far from my home in Mexico, far from loved ones, from friends and from everything familiar. 

I was with Emma, my youngest daughter, who was referred to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital® in 2022. We arrived following a diagnosis of bilateral retinoblastoma, a cancer affecting both eyes that occurs most often in young children, usually before age 3.  

I went to Memphis, Tennessee, relieved to know that families never receive a bill from St. Jude for treatment, travel, housing or food. But I was worried about being in an unfamiliar city, not knowing where to find diapers, basic necessities or simply how to manage daily life. 

Early in Emma’s treatment, I met the hospital’s psychosocial team and realized I was no longer alone. They were a group of professionals who were thoughtful and attentive to everything we were going through. By showing us their human side, they reassured me that we were in good hands.  

First, I was assigned a social worker who guided me through everything I needed — from finding stores to arranging home delivery services. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without her support. 

With the social worker’s help, I also learned how to manage our hospital appointments and found a space where I could speak openly about my anxieties and concerns. 

Soon after, Emma began showing signs that she needed additional support. She was having a hard time adjusting to so many changes and deeply missed her two sisters and her dad. 

Our social worker referred us to the psychology clinic at St. Jude for an evaluation. What we didn’t expect was the joy that awaited us.  

The psychological assistant not only spoke Spanish, but she was also from the same state we are from in northern Mexico! 

The connection between them was immediate. They talked about the traditions of our hometown and about something they both love: animals. 

The psychological assistant told Emma that when she visited her grandfather in Mexico, he had chickens. Emma lit up right away because we have chickens at home too, along with dogs and parakeets. 

Today, Emma is 6 years old. In 2026, she graduated from preschool and she’s incredibly bright. Wherever she goes, she makes friends and loves to play. Recently, one of her sisters got a horse and it has become Emma’s newest fascination.  

She now understands that she lost part of her vision as a result of her disease. Sometimes she says to me:  
— Mom, I can’t see out of one of my eyes. 

So, I ask her:  
— Does that bother you? 

And she answers, as naturally as can be:  
— No. I live my life normally, and I can play just fine. 

When I ask what she wants to be when she grows up, she doesn’t hesitate:  
— A doctor. 

Every time I hear her say it, I think about all the people who helped us when we needed it most. People who went far beyond medical care. People who made us feel supported, understood and, above all, that we were in good hands.