Hallie Kyed was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia in April 2023, nine months ago, at the age of two. Sadly, Hallie lost her life on January 21 at the age of 2, as her father, Doug Kyed, an NFL reporter for the Boston Herald, revealed on Instagram.
Kyed claims that after his daughter experienced a relapse after receiving a bone marrow transplant, things took a turn for the worst. Her chemo had run its course.
Doug writes, “On Sunday morning, Hallie passed away peacefully in her sleep while Jen and I held her hands in bed.” “Without Hallie, we’re sad and totally lost. Never again will our lives be the same.
Doug went on to say that his young daughter “was a special kid.” Furthermore, “she made a positive impact on so many people she met,” even at the age of two.
Olivia was blessed to have the greatest baby sister, and we were fortunate to be her parents.
The family “spent special time at the hospital last week, but we held out hope for remission because of how brave, strong, and resilient Hallie had been through her entire nine-month battle with acute myeloid leukemia and all of its complications,” the reporter said, adding that they “knew the prognosis was poor when she relapsed after her bone marrow transplant.”
However, despite Hallie’s bravery and fortitude in the face of such adversity, “her aggressive form of leukemia had grown out of control by the time she started a trial treatment, and chemotherapy after transplant was ineffective.”
Doug gave Boston Children’s Hospital’s physicians high marks for their efforts because “they did everything they could to help Hallie, and she beat AML every day for over nine months straight.” After her successful transplant in October, or even when she was first diagnosed in April, nothing could have possibly prepared us for this moment.
Hallie would shout “DADDDDYYY” at him, requesting that he “take her on a walk around the hospital floor.” The bereaved father revealed that Hallie would also give him “sweet little pats on the back when I took her out of her crib.”
Hal, my koala baby, my tiny Hallie Bear, my Sour Patch Kid… was incredibly gorgeous, hilarious by nature (and knew it), and destined to be a dancing class star. The medical personnel, doctors, and nurses enjoyed guessing which princess attire she would be sporting that day (or at that certain hour).
Doug also hopes that those who are grieving for his daughter will learn one thing from her: “to know exactly what you want and to be persistent in asking for it, whether it’s going on a walk, riding in the car, or wearing one particular Disney dress (usually Cruella).” Despite the fact that “the world is a worse place without Hallie in it,” he hopes.
I will miss giving her a head kiss, petting her hair, and telling her how much I adore her. Hallie indefinitely.
On January 26, Hallie will be laid to rest. The Kyed family is in our thoughts and prayers during this especially trying time.
I COMPLAINED ABOUT MY NEW NEIGHBORS’ HORRIBLE FOUNTAIN & RECEIVED A THREATENING NOTE FROM THEM.
The quietude of Elm Street, once a symphony of birdsong and gentle laughter, had been shattered. The arrival of the new neighbors, the Morlocks, had thrown the idyllic tranquility of their little community into chaos.
Initially, I had tried to be welcoming. A plate of freshly baked cookies, a warm smile, a friendly “Welcome to the neighborhood!” But my overture had been met with a chilling silence. The woman who answered the door, pale and gaunt, had regarded me with a suspicion that bordered on paranoia. “Ew, it smells awful,” she had muttered, her eyes darting nervously around as if I were some sort of disease.
Then came the fountain. A monstrosity of wrought iron and gargoyles, it stood imposingly in their yard, a constant, jarring presence. The incessant gurgling and splashing, day and night, had become the soundtrack to our lives. Sleep became elusive, replaced by the monotonous drone of the water.
The neighborhood, once a haven of peace and camaraderie, was now a battleground. Tempers flared. Arguments erupted at the weekly community meetings. Finally, a vote was taken – a unanimous decision to request the removal of the fountain.
And so, the unenviable task of filing the official complaint fell to me. I, the self-proclaimed peacemaker, the neighborhood’s unofficial ambassador of goodwill, was now the bearer of bad tidings.
That evening, as I returned home, a small, ominous package lay on my doorstep. No return address. A shiver ran down my spine.
Inside, a single sheet of paper, scrawled with menacing handwriting:
“I KNOW YOUR SECRET. YOU WILL BE POLITE TO YOUR NEW NEIGHBORS, OR EVERYONE WILL KNOW.”
Fear, cold and clammy, gripped me. Who was it? The Morlocks? Or someone else, someone watching, someone waiting for the right moment to strike?
The following days were a blur of paranoia and unease. I checked every window and door lock multiple times a night. I slept with the light on, the faintest sound sending shivers down my spine. My once peaceful neighborhood had transformed into a place of fear and suspicion.
The police, after much persuasion, agreed to investigate. They questioned the Morlocks, of course, but they denied any involvement. The woman, her face gaunt and drawn, maintained her innocence, claiming she was simply trying to enjoy her own property.
The investigation yielded nothing. No fingerprints, no witnesses, no concrete evidence. The threat remained, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of our seemingly idyllic community.
I started carrying a small can of pepper spray, my hand instinctively reaching for it at every rustle of leaves, every unfamiliar sound. I avoided going out alone at night, my days filled with a constant sense of unease.
The incident had changed me. The once friendly, outgoing neighbor was now withdrawn, suspicious, constantly scanning the shadows for signs of danger. The peace and tranquility of Elm Street, shattered by the arrival of the Morlocks, had been replaced by a chilling sense of fear and uncertainty.
And the fountain, that monstrous, discordant symbol of their arrival, continued to spew its icy water, a constant reminder of the darkness that had seeped into the heart of their once idyllic community.I COMPLAINED ABOUT MY NEW NEIGHBORS’ HORRIBLE FOUNTAIN & RECEIVED A THREATENING NOTE FROM THEM.
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