THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 14, 1996 TAG: 9604140065
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B1 EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Paul South
DATELINE: AVON LENGTH: Medium: 77 lines
``The world's turned upside down,'' the elegant older woman said to me as we stood in line, waiting to shake hands with the pastor after Easter service.
With Unabombers and Freemen and every other manner of madness loose in the world, that's not a hard proposition to swallow.
But there's hope for us, good people, and I 'll tell you how I know.
Orrin Gray.
Many of you will remember Orrin, a third-grader at Cape Hatteras School who wanted to play baseball. Those hopes were dimmed last spring, when he was operated on at the Children's Hospital of The King's Daughters in Norfolk to remove a cancerous brain tumor. Folks all over North Carolina, and from as far away as Michigan, rallied to help Orrin and his family with the astronomical costs of cancer treatment.
Doctors now believe they have removed all of the growth. Orrin is back in school, and is getting ready to start the local youth baseball season. He has been cleared to play, as long as he wears a helmet on the field.
And his hair, once wiped out by surgery and chemotherapy, is coming back like fresh spring grass.
``It's been real successful,'' said Brenda Gray, as she brushed a loving hand over her son's sprouting black locks.
``He won't have to have another MRI for four months. He's lost his hearing in his right ear because of chemotherapy and the radiation treatments. His grades are good, especially in reading. He's had some trouble in math, but the doctors said that was to be expected after that type of surgery.''
Troubles in math are the least of Brenda and George Gray's worries.
It wasn't that long ago when they were in danger of losing their little boy.
``There were times when he was so sick,'' his mom said, her eyes glistening. ``I didn't want to think about it. I'd just turn around, turn the lights out, and walk outside. Now, I let him get away with murder. The little stuff doesn't matter anymore.''
George Gray has his own memory of the hospital.
``He'd get hungry, and they had this place over next door at Norfolk General that was open all night. He'd say he wanted fried eggs. I'd go get him some eggs, but he couldn't keep them down. He loves fried eggs.''
Except for the bald patches on his head, obscured by a hat that reads ``I love my bad attitude,'' and an S-shaped scar, there are few reminders of the cancer. And even amidst the sadness, there were moments of joy for this Hatteras Island family.
``We went to Disney World with the Make-A-Wish Foundation,'' Brenda said.
``It was great. But there are people from all over who have sent things. There's a woman at the Dare County Health Department who sends cards, or sometimes she'll send baseball cards or a five-dollar bill. People have been so wonderful.''
Some of Orrin's strongest support has come from his school chums at Cape Hatteras.
``When I drop him off at school, all of the kids come up and pat him on the back and hug him, and say `Hi, Orrin, Hi Orrin.' He hates to miss school.''
Orrin has some simple advice for other kids who face terminal illness.
It's counsel that big folks would do well to follow as they walk in their own bleak, gray valleys.
``Keep your chin up,'' he said, brown eyes flashing.
``Just be strong. And just say it's going to be over soon. That's what I did.''
There are lots of unnecessary reminders that make us think the world is upside down.
But as long as there are fried eggs and baseball cards, and Disney World and warm hugs, and stories like Orrin Gray's, we're a tad closer to being right side up. ILLUSTRATION: Color photo by DREW C. WILSON, The Virginian-Pilot
Orrin Gray, a third-grader at Cape Hatteras School, carries few
reminders of the cancerous brain tumor that was removed last year. by CNB