Month: February 2021

Yes…Santa Claus was coming to town. We were busy little Elves at Belaggio Jewelers. Christmas 1999 was crazy like usual. The last ten days of the season were always intense. Every day that came closer to the 25th would get busier…exponentially. This year, the tenth day before xmas, I would break away to my Oncology appointment and yet again test my blood for any sign that the DLI procedure was successful.

We all know the drill. Nothing this day was any different. The ride down to the hospital always slowed by traffic and the ride back….the same. In between, the usual pleasantries, quick exam and “We’ll see the results in about ten days.” Just in time for Christmas. “Enjoy the holiday, hope you are really busy!” “Thanks, Dr. Dave”. Back to work ASAP. I would work non stop the next ten days. Quaterbacking the crew was a lot of fun. I would listen to five conversations at once while my team were selling customers. I had to make sure that each customer was getting the right service, price and wished a Happy Holiday. Gift wrapping always complimentary. 🙂

I also had to get my shopping done. My job every year was to shop for the boys. I would bring all of their gifts I had bought to the store and do all of the wrapping. Christmas eve, I would bring the gifts home and put them under the tree after the festivities were over and the boys were finally asleep. Lor’s gifts too. Locking the front door of the store at 5:30 pm on December, 24th was always punctuated with a big “Whew!”. My drive home was so peaceful, especially if it was a white Christmas. Nobody was ever on the road. I reflected on the year of business. With everything that was going on with the Leukemia, up until a few minutes ago, the worrying was put on the back shelf. We would have the best Christmas possible for the boys. They were at such a great age, five and three. I guess Dr. Dave was being compassionate when he didnt give me a call before Christmas. I’m sure my PCR results were ready. He would have called me before, rather than after, if all was good. Maybe the results weren’t in yet. Who knows?

Everyone had a great holiday. Santa was very good to all. Our mantra would be “No news, is good news”. Until the phone rings and the verdict gets delivered. As far as I was concerned, Santa was a no show. I needed results now. The wait was killing me. Where was my Christmas gift Santa?

Next up: Happy New Year

Thanksgiving was just a week away. My Thursday appointment, the third week of November, marked sixty days from the DLI procedure in September. My bloodwork was back from my last appointment and again it was basically unchanged. Unremarkable in most cases but again… my WBC was not dropping. The normal reading of 6k to 10k was never reached. I was still hovering around the 20k to 25k range. My count had dropped somewhat but the progress needed to successfully reverse the course of the recurring Leukemia was not evident. More bloodwork today and the hope for better results lay in the balance for my recovery. Dr. Dave was cheery as usual since what other way could he be. He knew this was a serious situation. We both did. I wasnt really sick though. I felt pretty good. I was essentially in the same shape and situation that I was in when I was diagnosed originally. I felt fine then too. Dave just told me to keep my head up and we’ll see what the new bloodwork results yield next week. “Have a nice Thanksgiving, regards to the family and I’ll see you in December”. Yep.

I had my sights set on better news for the family, for my boys and for Lor. I could put on a great game face though. “Status quo” would be my go to reply. I’m feeling great, all is good and the waiting game continues. Sounds good. Holidays were so special to me now. I loved being around my family. I wanted to enjoy every moment. Things could go south very quickly for me. Let’s soak it in. Thanksgiving was great. The food, the fam and the conversation. My sights were set ahead to the following day. Black Friday is the start of my big season for Christmas. My team will be working twenty seven straight days in a row until Christmas Eve. Like crazy! We really do love it though. The customers are always so cheerful, happy and in the moment. Their gift from our store was usually the most expensive, biggest and most treasured gift of the season. Jewelry is so loved by wives, moms and daughters. A happy gift of gold and diamonds that can last forever and be passed through generations. The month, for sure, will wear us all out. I will miss spending time with the boys and Lori like every year but business is business…I am a Jeweler.

My next appointment for bloodwork will be mid Christmas season, mid December. I will have to break away from the madness to find out whether we have finally progressed towards remission or have taken a step backwards. If we don’t show any progress over the first three months, we’ll probably have to go back to the drawing board…. Or Dr. Dave’s Leukemia playbook as I called it. Time to get my head in the game though. The season begins next week. Honestly, my head was hurting. My heart was hurting. No excuses. Its time to play Santa. Ho Ho Ho.

Another side note: I got a call last April 2020 from a friend asking to open up my store during the pandemic shutdown. Her daughters fiance was just diagnosed with brain cancer and they needed wedding rings asap so they could marry that weekend. The diagnosis was dire and they literally had their first major consultation the day that they met me at the store. Wedding bands set and wedding successful their journey began. They had a baby daughter and many plans. Unfortunately, the brain cancer had other plans and the young man passed yesterday. Cancer sucks. It really sucks. Rest in Peace Joe Bosak. Another wonderful husband, father and friend gone too soon.

Next up: Santa’s a No Show

It was just another usual Thursday in October. I had been heading downtown every week to Sansom Street to handle my Jeweler business on Thursdays and now again to see Dr. Dave…every week after my DLI. Since mid September when the procedure was completed, I needed bloodwork to check my relapse status. It was my fourth visit now and basically not much had changed. Last week my blood counts had stabilized and there had been no real change to my situation. Slightly disconcerting this was since we were hoping for a better reaction. This weeks visit would include a PCR blood test to venture molecularly for a deeper look into my response.

I arrived around 2:30 pm at the office and ran the usual gamut of checking in, weight check, blood draw and escort to the exam room. I settled in and put my briefcase behind the examination table since I had been running all day and needed to use the rest room. I left the room for about ten minutes and returned to find a gentleman sitting on my table. What the heck? He had long gray curly hair covered by an old baseball cap. A baggy sweatsuit on and old sneakers. A little disheveled, I thought. It took me a second to recognize him. Of course we spoke and agreed that there must have been a misunderstanding. He said that a nurse had placed him in the room and told him that the doctor would be in soon. I guess since the room looked empty that it was clear. Nope.

I introduced myself and he shook my hand. “Nice to meet you coach”. The gentleman was the current Philadelphia Flyers coach… Roger Neilson. Not just the Flyers coach, the former Maple Leafs, Sabres, Kings, Canucks, Panthers and Senators coach. An NHL icon. Now, I’m not a real celebrity hound or overwhelmed by celebrity but it was very cool. I told him that I needed to get my briefcase under the table and that as soon as Dr. Dave came in we would straighten the room situation out. He asked me about my visit and I gave him a quick rundown of my cancer situation. He asked me if I had ever had a Bone Marrow Aspiration before? “Multiple Sir”. He looked scared. He was scheduled to have his first aspiration today. Oh boy. I gave him a quick tutorial on the procedure and my technique of holding the table, curling your toes… you know the deal. “Does it hurt”? He asked, I couldn’t lie. “Big time!”. Really scared him then. “Knock…Knock”.

Dr. Dave walked in and lightened up the room like he always did. “Well Coach, looks like you met Keenan!” “Two hockey guys with Leukemia just hanging out”. The conversation was mostly about our connection to the game of Hockey and of course our disease. Coach Neilson actually had Multiple Myeloma, a form of blood cancer associated with Leukemia. He had just been diagnosed and this was his first major testing of his marrow and blood. Poor guy. I answered a lot of questions for him and left him at ease. I think. But what about the room dilemma? Dr. Dave handled that. “Keenan, you are the Vet here and Roger you are the Rook”. Wow! Dave was the man. He would have the nurse escort Coach Neilson to another room and that he would see him after we were finished. Pretty sweet.

I shook the Coaches hand and we wished each other well. The conversation between Dr. Dave and I was short and to the point. The bloodwork would be back in about a week for the PCR result. My White Cell count was stable but not going any lower like we had hoped. This was not good news but Dave was still holding out hope for a positive outcome. So was I. Dave had to get going to skewer the coach. I had to hit the road for the trek back to the store to finish out my day. I never saw Coach Neilson again. I know that through reading articles in the newspaper that he was undergoing treatment and was relieved of his coaching duties soon thereafter. He made a comeback after his recovery to become an assistant coach with the Ottawa Senators who made a run to the Stanley Cup finals that year. They failed to win the series and he failed to win his battle. Roger passed the next year in 2003 at 68 years old. Another warrior succumbing to this insidious disease. Soon after his passing, Roger was inducted into the NHL HALL OF FAME. One of the most innovative coaches in professional hockey, his style was legend. If you are a hockey fan, check out his Wiki page. Unique. I would have given up my room to him. Just sayin’.

Next Up: Two Months In.

During my journey with CML I have heard so many horror stories. I have seen terrible things. Watching fellow patients that I had met suffer and succumb to the disease. Friends of mine, their parents, relatives and children… succumb to the various forms that are Leukemia. Some of the saddest stories I encountered were those concerning donor possibilities. Families so fractured that they refused to be tested to be potential donors for their immediate family members.To choose to be unavailable or just unwilling to be the potential lifeline for a bone marrow transplant for a family member, especially a brother or sister? How sad is that. There are movements all over the world to enlist potential unrelated and anonymous donors through drives and media where people are unselfishly excited to become a life saving hero. Yet, I found out that these family divisions exist more frequently than you would know. This wasn’t the case in my family.

I knew that my siblings would be there for me. They were ready and able and excited to be tested and possibly be the one to save my life. We know that my brother Glenn would be the eventual winner. Sure, we all all had our differences, arguments, disagreements and tiffs growing up. We still do. I know that no matter what though, we will always back each other up. This time, the DLI would be worse for Glenn than me. Not as bad as the first procedure, but it would suck.

It was now mid September. We made our way up to the 15th floor of Hannahmen Hospital. It was DLI day. Today I would receive the new lymphocytes generated from Glenn’s blood that would hopefully stimulate my failing transplant. After some basic blood testing and consult with Dr. Dave, we made our way down to the Pheresis lab to get started. I felt really bad for my brother. I watched after he was hooked up to the machine. How he had to constantly squeeze a tennis ball to keep the blood flowing. This went on for hours. There was nothing that I had to do but wait. When it was finally my turn to receive, like Brady to Gronk, I laid there for the TD and watched the life saving plasma enter my veins. Along with some Benadryl and Saline, we waited until the concoction slowly and effortlessly drained in its entirety. As my brother rested and my family waited in the lounge, I waited for any strange or dangerous reaction to occur. Everything was going well. No severe allergic reactions or negative reactions were apparent and after about four or five hours we were able to be on our way. Both patients, Glenn and I, would need to rest for a day and take it easy. Thanks and sorry again bro.

I would need to begin the weekly hospital visits again. The frequent aspiration testing again. The constant and unrelenting bouts of anxiety again. Not just for me though, for everyone in my family too. This was uncharted territory. A positive response was so key. Good times and bad. We we’re all in.

Next up: Hey Coach