JP Loves Happy Wheels!

For years now, Tuesdays have meant something special to JP, and to us. What might seem like just another day on the calendar has quietly become a source of comfort, consistency, and joy in the middle of some really hard seasons.

Since 2019, one of the things JP has been able to count on, no matter what, is Happy Wheels rolling into clinic. And if you’ve ever watched a child walk into an appointment they’re dreading, only to light up at something familiar and fun waiting for them… you know how powerful that is.

Because the truth is yes, you have to go to the clinic, you have to get poked. It sucks. There’s no way around that. But Happy Wheels doesn’t.

Happy Wheels isn’t just a cart or a visit, it’s a break from being a patient. It’s a moment where kids get to just be kids again. It’s laughter in hallways that can otherwise feel heavy. It’s choice, excitement, distraction, and a reminder that there is still so much good, even here.

For JP, it’s something he looks forward to. Something predictable in a world that often isn’t. And that matters more than I can fully put into words.

If you’ve ever wondered whether small acts of kindness make a difference; this is your answer. They do. Every single time.

If you’re able, I encourage you to consider supporting Happy Wheels. Your donation goes directly toward creating moments like this for kids who truly need them. Kids who are fighting battles most people will never see. Kids like JP.

We are so grateful for the people who show up week after week to make this happen. You may not always see the full impact of what you do, but I promise you, it’s there. And it’s everything.

JP’s story didn’t start with a single moment. It unfolded in ways we never could have prepared for. What began as concern turned into diagnoses that changed everything: Severe Aplastic Anemia (SAA) and Paroxysmal Nocturnal Hemoglobinuria (PNH). Two rare and serious blood disorders that meant his body was not able to do something as basic and as vital as make healthy blood.

Back in 2019, when all of this first began, JP did not have a donor match. So instead of a transplant, we had to take a different path. Treatments to manage the disease, to buy time, and to give him the best quality of life possible while we waited and hoped for more options. And he fought through all of it. Transfusions, medications, hospital visits, year after year.

Fast forward to 2026, and everything changed. This time, he did have a match. And with that came a new kind of hope, the opportunity for a bone marrow transplant (BMT), not just to treat, but to cure.

The transplant process is intense. His body had to be pushed to its absolute limits with chemotherapy and radiation to make space for new, healthy cells. Watching him go through that has been one of the hardest things we have ever faced, but JP continues to meet every challenge with a quiet kind of strength that leaves me in awe.

There have been moments of pain, setbacks, and so much waiting. Waiting for counts to rise. Waiting for signs that the transplant is working. Holding onto the words we say out loud every day, that he WILL engraft.

But there have also been victories. Small ones that feel huge. A better lab number. A little more energy. A smile in the middle of it all. These are the moments that carry us forward.

JP is still in this fight. Still showing up. Still pushing forward.

And through it all, he continues to show us what strength really looks like.