Month: July 2020

My ” D-Day”. Departure date. In three weeks I would be leaving my home to go to Hahnaman Hospital in Philadelphia to begin my long stay in the Bone Marrow Transplantation Unit. July 30th was my day to report at 9 am. Linda, the transplant team coordinator would send me the list of what I could bring, what I couldn’t bring and the final test preps needed to complete before I was admitted. This included a Cardiac stress test, Echocardiogram, more bloodwork, chest xray and dental clearance. A lot to do. No time for mental or emotional stress. Too busy.

In addition to all of this mayhem, Mr. Bob, my neighbor across the street, was starting construction on our house about the same time I was leaving. We were having a total exterior rehab being done. Siding, roof, Windows, Doors, new porch, etc. Lori would have to be the liason for me. Oh boy. Good times. Again, no time to stress.

So anyway, my sister Donna mentions to me that she was going camping in the Lehigh Valley the next weekend. Not too far away, I thought that I could maybe take Nick on our first ever camping trip. My thought process at this time was “What if”? What if I dont make it? Never got the chance to do this? I should take advantage of every opportunity to do things with Nick before I go in the hospital. It would be great! Finish some prerequisites this week then head to the Great outdoors. We would leave Mom to some peace and quiet and head out early Friday afternoon.

When Friday came we packed up the car, strapped Nick in his carseat, said goodbye to Mom and we were on our way! Pitching tents, making campfires, toasting marshmallows, going fishing. I couldnt wait to get there!

Next up: Champagne Supernova and the shortest camping trip ever!

My son Nick was only two years and 2 months old. My first born. My son was my world. The pain I felt in my heart was excruciating from the moment Dr. Terzian told me that I had Leukemia and every day thereafter. The thought of leaving him fatherless at two years old could never happen. But what if it was the other way around? If my son was diagnosed with cancer. My first boy. The birth of Nick was by far the most important, emotional, exciting and amazing event in my life. I watched a miracle happen. I couldn’t imagine this situation being reversed. I would be beyond devastated.

I saw this devastation in my dad. I could feel it when I told him the news, feel it at the hospital and hear it in his voice when we spoke on the phone. My mom was a strong woman. Her bout with Colon Cancer and its successful outcome made her a survivor. She felt that punch in the gut when they tell you you have cancer. But managed to do what was needed to defeat it. My dad was by her side as she was operated on and finished her recuperation. It was a happy ending. Without her diagnoses I would probably have never had mine. Lucky for me.

I was their first born. I know that my dad had to feel that same amazing way that I felt when Nick was born. So how else could he feel now. Devastated. And helpless. My Father was a proud hard working exec of a large company. Type A leader and great at what he did. When something like my cancer diagnoses happened, no matter how much you might want to control the situation, there is nothing you can do. Helplessness is a nasty and a terrible feeling. You can’t control Cancer. You need to trust your doctors, trust your faith and support as best you can.

My Dad was very close to his Mom. An only child, they grew up together in very hard times. When my grandmother was diagnosed and passed from lung cancer at a young age he was devastated. The first time I ever saw my Dad cry was graveside at her funeral. I was 13 years old. As they were lowering the casket into the ground, I will never forget the way he squeezed my hand so hard as he bowed his head and cried. It pained me to feel that I could possibly have him put in that same position again…with his first born son.

As time went on, my mothers mantra was always that “Everything would be alright”. My dad had kept his emotions close to the vest. He always needed to keep busy. He loved to do projects and he would volunteer to get Joe’s room ready while I was in the hospital. That helped him keep busy and it helped us. I never saw him cry during my journey. He had to be strong, support me and do anything in his power to get me well. I’m sure the tears flowed down when he was alone. Just like mine.

Next up: Preparations for 07/30/96