• 2/3/2004
  • Alton
  • Josh Stockinger
  • The Telegraph

Looking at 6-year-old Morrisan Henson, you would never know she’s sick. The Alton first-grader bounces into the kitchen and slides to a sock-footed stop at the base of the refrigerator. Her tiny, 3-foot frame is cloaked in a fluffy, red sweatshirt and black pajama bottoms. Morrisan scales the monstrous appliance with her eyes. Looking up, her shoulder-length, light-blond hair falls away from her face, and a slow grin stretches from one fair cheek to the other. “Can I have some pudding?” she asks. Morrisan dances with relentless energy, scooting back and forth, anticipating a response from her grandmother. Pudding and soup are two of the only foods Morrisan can eat these days. “Yes.” A smile replaces the grin. In seconds, Morrisan cradles a container of chocolate pudding in her hands. Her eyes sharpen intensely as she pulls back the tin-foil covering. Thhhwiiiikk! Morrisan scampers back to the living room to play with her sister. “She’s an eater,” says Sharon Connolly, Morrisan’s grandmother and legal guardian. The refrigerator door swings back, closing the appliance — on it, a calendar. The page reads “January.” Connolly can’t help noticing the calendar out of the corner of her eye. Messages like “Surgery” and “Call Oncologist” fill the boxes, now a timeline of the family’s terrifying ordeals of the past month. “We’re going to fight,” Connolly says with a catch in her throat.

Finding Out

In January, Morrisan became the youngest documented person to be diagnosed with a common form of cancer, squamous cell carcinoma, in a rare place — the hard palate in the roof of her mouth. Morrisan lost her front two baby teeth in November. That’s when Connolly said she noticed a pea-sized knot growing in their place. Morrisan’s regular dentist decided to take a look. Baffled, he sent the family to an ear, nose and throat specialist in Alton. Because the lump appeared to be a virus, the specialist put Morrisan on antibiotics. Connolly said the knot grew to be the size of a quarter within a week. The specialist referred the family to Dr. George Heldon, an Alton oral surgeon. Upon a first look, Heldon decided to open the lump, which he thought was a cyst. Connolly said the doctor realized within seconds something more dangerous was at work in Morrisan’s mouth. He quickly took five biopsies and closed the knot.

The biopsies were sent to the U.S. Armed Forces Institute of Pathology in Washington D.C. The reports showed that Morrisan’s mouth was infested with cancer. It was later determined that Heldon’s actions saved Morrisan’s life. If Heldon had removed the tumor at a first look, he might have left some of the cancer, which would have made Morrisan’s other surgeries even more difficult, with less of a chance for success. “He saved her life by not taking the tumor out,” Connolly said. “This is such a fast-growing cancer.”

Over the next few weeks, Morrisan’s family watched the girl begin her battle with cancer. Doctors at St. John’s Mercy Medical Center, in Creve Coeur think they removed all the cancer in Morrisan’s mouth during two surgeries. Morrisan’s family hopes pathology reports will show the same thing. Once surgical removals are complete, Morrisan will begin chemotherapy and radiation treatments at St. John’s. “This is going to have to be treated,” Connolly said. “That’s what makes this thing so difficult and so scary.” Dr. Robert Bergamini, a St. John’s oncologist, and Dr. James Boyd, an otolaryngologist head and neck surgeon at St. John’s, are Morrisan’s physicians. The surgeries already removed most of Morrisan’s upper teeth, her gums and some bone, each area infected with cancer. Her palate was replaced with prosthesis.

On Monday, doctors put in a new prosthesis during Morrisan’s third surgery in less than a month. The procedure went well, her family said.
“She’s decided she doesn’t like to go to sleep in the hospital because people hurt her when she’s asleep,” Connolly said. “We had no idea how aggressive the surgeries would be.” Connolly said the surgeries have been hard on Morrisan, but nothing dims her smile. She gladly forms a wide-mouthed, silly face to show off her battle wounds between laughing and tromping about. Morrisan even demanded doctors save her removed teeth for the tooth fairy. Connelly said the fairy came. “She is going to pull through this because of her age and because of her attitude,” Connolly said. “She’s such a fighter.”

Good cells, bad cells

Morrisan has a strong understanding of her illness. Child psychologists at St. John’s have explained it to Morrisan and her sister Kiersten, 7. “They tell them, ‘There are good cells and bad cells. Sometimes, bad cells can take over,’” Connolly said. “‘Sometimes we have to do bad things to build up the good cells.’” Dr. Rob Hanson, one of Morrisan’s oncologists at St. John, said squamous cell carcinoma is confusing, even to adults, because it refers to a particular cancer that can be found on the outer skin, as well as the oral cavity. Though the conditions vary in treatments, the cells look the same under a microscope. Therefore, they bear the same name. Hanson said squamous cell carcinoma of the hard palate in a child is extremely rare — in fact, it’s unheard of. According to the National Cancer Institute Web Site, oral cancers usually occur in people over the age of 45. Most oral cancers are squamous cell carcinoma. Hanson said the most upsetting factors are the treatments and reconstructive surgeries Morrisan will go through over the years. “I think a case like this is difficult, because she is an absolutely beautiful child,” Hanson said. “What you look at walking through the door is a very healthy-looking young girl.” Hanson said the positive side of the coin is having the opportunity to give Morrisan the chance to keep going. Not that anything could slow her determination.”She’s a pistol,” Hanson said.

Coping

Family and friends agree that Morrisan’s energetic, positive demeanor keeps them going. Nothing seems to get her down. Morrisan even shows off her Broviac catheter — a new attachment on her chest that is capable of drawing blood and injecting food and medicine. She looks down at the mess of surgical tape and tubes –one white, one red — with a perplexed smile, almost as if she’s amazed. Morrisan isn’t afraid to let people know about her illness. Connolly says Morrisan visited her first-grade class shortly after her first surgery. She explained “good cells and bad cells” to classmates, who rewarded her with a group hug. “It was so moving the way the kids were intent to listen to Morrisan,” Connolly says. “They were just so happy she was back and could talk to them.” Mark Twain Elementary first-grade teacher Beverly Crume says Morrisan takes care of her friends. “She’s a very nurturing little girl,” Crume says. “She has that motherly gift.”

Connolly says Morrisan’s illness was a fight she never expected. The battle has been especially hard on Morrisan’s sister, Kiersten. The girls are very close. Connolly says her only breakdowns happen at the end of the day, after putting the girls to bed. “I just can’t figure it out,” Connolly says, shaking her head. “And I’m one of those people that has to figure everything out, and I just don’t understand. “Her eyes shift randomly back and forth across the room. “I gave it to God.