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I knew that this appointment was going to be a doozie. I’m already wrapped like a Cobra ready to strike. So much information to take in along with the infamous bone marrow aspiration. Lost count at this point but whatever. I’m in a bad place. No sleep, horrible stress and losing hope. Get me through this day. I need a little something…a little good news.

I hit the scale…180 lbs. I sat in the blood draw chair and got the usual four to five vials of my B Positive/ 0 Positive blood drawn for my Chimersm, PCR, CBC, Etc…tests. I did the perp walk to a large exam room and assumed the position on the exam table. Now I waited. After a few minutes, a big, husky, young Persian looking Doctor came in. I’d never seen him before and after introducing himself, he let me know that he would be performing my bone marrow aspiration. Well buddy, that would be my decision. Dr. Styler was the only other doctor than Dr. Dave to attempt one before and he absolutely killed me. Dr. Terzian actually performed my very first but I didnt know what to expect at that time. So, Dr. Dave was the man, not this guy. The new doctor told me that Dr. Dave would be delayed and asked if he could begin the process. Ok then. I’ll give you a shot. One shot. I assumed my usual position, curled toes, hands wrapped around the front of the table and clenched teeth. It started out ok but went downhill very quickly. He was definitely a rookie and his inability to pierce my hip bone was getting ugly and beyond painful. I stopped him after the pain became unbearable and requested Dr. Dave immediately. The wait seemed like forever. A huge canula needle impaled halfway into my hip bone. Blood running down my ass and leg and pooling under me. It seemed like forever. He barged in, took over the situation and Dr. Dave finished the job like the pro he was. The nurses cleaned me up and prepared me for my next move to the consult room. New gameplan time.

As I waited for Dr. Dave to clean himself up and gather his thoughts, I languished in the fact that this new resident doctor had rendered me almost immobile and in some major agony that would last for hours and my long drive home. I wasn’t too happy. I was tired. The next conversation I have will determine my outcome. Will I stay or will I go now? What’s my odds Doc? Then came the usual knock on the door. “Keenan.”..

“Well, your white cell count is up to 80k. Highest ever eh”. Thanks for the NOT GREAT news Dave. What’s the plan? ” Ok, there is a new drug called STI-571 or Gleevec that just finished its initial FDA study 1 with great results.” ” Phase 2 starts in June across the country with only about 400 participants being carefully selected to be a part of the study”. “I am in contact with several programs and lead doctors holding the trials around the country trying to get you in one of the study groups”. The only caveat of this study was…that you had to have been unable to have a positive reaction to treatments after using Interferon A injections for six months straight to try to beat back the Leukemia. This meant that I would immediately have to begin injecting myself with this awful drug. Interferon had terrible side effects and only a slight chance of working. I would have to use a special needle to inject the drug into my stomach or thigh every other day. A terrible prerequisite for admission into the FDA trial. But my only chance for survival at this time. I took my first shot right there in the office. A pen like instrument that was simple to use but was still a needle. It burned going in. My six months started right now. Let’s see if we can turn this shit around. Let’s see if we can get in this new FDA program. Let’s see if I might get lucky. Really lucky. Please. I need a break.

Next Up: Interferon A

So, as I was expecting, the results of my bloodwork at the end of the three month wait period were not what we expected. This was the culmination of two Donor Lymphocyte Infusions over a seven month period. The collaboration of all to stop the proliferation of the Leukemia from aggressively attacking my body. A valiant effort that fell far short of expectations. My White Cell counts were rising… Rapidly. Ok, Dr. Dave… Now What?

This failure was very disheartening to me. We were approaching the fourth anniversary of my original diagnosis. It was panic time as far as I was concerned. How could this be possible. I had so much faith in the process, so much faith in my doctors, so much hope in my heart and my mind. There were these two beautiful little boys counting on me to pull through for them. Nicky and Joey were too young to understand the dire situation unfolding before their eyes. It was beyond my comprehension four years ago that I could possibly not see my beloved boys grow up. To be there for them. My Dad was such a positive and guiding influence in my life. He always had my back. Especially now. He always took care of me no matter what the situation. All of my siblings could count on that too. I would emulate that role model. My boys would also be able to count on me no matter what. I was so fortunate to have known this love that my current situation made it all the worse in my mind. As bad as I felt four years ago, I felt ten times worse now. I felt hopeless. I needed to live…not leave.

Dr. Dave had his office call me to set up an appointment for the second week of May. He would need to perform another Bone Marrow aspiration to get a better in depth scenario of the extent of my disease. He also wanted to discuss information he had received about a new drug that was in its first FDA trial. A drug that was showing promising results. A drug that could possibly save my life. At this point, I was up for anything. The window on my world was closing quickly. Aside from this new miracle drug, the only other option to treat me at this point was another Bone Marrow Transplant. I wouldn’t survive a second one. That I knew.

Next Up: The Appointment from Hell

It was now the end of March 2000. I had just reached the end of my second month post my second DLI procedure. The blood and PCR results that were coming in were not very encouraging. This was getting really scary. There were no great answers for the lack of progress. The bottom line was that the standard three month waiting period for a positive reaction for the DLI procedure was only four weeks away and we were going backwards.

Lori and I were planning a vacation to Disney World for August. A chance to get in some away time and since Joey was now going to turn four, he would get his first chance to meet Mickey. This would be my next goal. A family vacation to ease the stress of our current situation. The boys were so excited. This trip to Disney would hopefully be much lighter and happier than the last and we would be staying inside the park. The planning was complete and all that was needed was to get this transplant reignited and my health back on track again.

Dr. Dave was of the opinion that my body needed that one more month, the extra thirty days, to get the full effects of the Donor Lymphocyte Infusion. My marrow would hopefully come around and bounce back. He was holding off on completing the last Chimerism until the full three months had passed. The test that would see if my brothers DNA in my marrow had taken full control of the relapse situation and we were back on track to a full state of remission. The ultimate and most important goal in our plan. I was of the opinion that I was screwed. Everyone around me, my full support system, were holding out hopes for the best for me. I appreciated the support so much. My journey was going on four years now and I was getting very well versed on the results of the various tests that predict the outcome of my treatment. I knew that Dr. Dave was always the optimist. I also know how I felt. How my body was reacting to the procedure or not. I knew in my heart that the next thirty days were going to result in a huge disappointment. The wait would be agonizing. Mentally exhausting. We’ll have to keep the faith though. My beautiful babies need a break. They need their Daddy. Mommy needs a break too. Seriously.

One more thing to do now. Nick loved the boy band N’sync! I was driving down I 95 on a Thursday headed to Sansom street for my weekly jewelry run and LAAA! A billboard showing that the band N’Sync were going to be playing at the Spectrum in South Philadelphia! On Nick’s 6th birthday! March 26th! I called Lor for the ok and then Ticketmaster for two fabulous tickets, center stage! Here we go buddy!

We got dressed up nice and sharp for the show and Nick was lookin good! What an energized crowed of 50,000 insane five year old to fifty year old women and girls we were surrounded by! We were like the only guys around for miles! The concert started with a relatively unknown performer named Pink…yes PINK! SHE WAS AWESOME! Nick was a little uncomfortable with the loud music but hung in there through Pink’s set. It went all downhill from there. N’SYNC hit the stage at a billion decibels. Nick freaked out! I covered his ears with muffs I had brought but that only helped little. He screamed and cried to go home, but for $200 bucks a ticket, that wasn’t happening. After surviving “Bye,bye,bye”, “”It’s gonna be me” and “I want you back”…Justin Timberlake and his crew broke out the tear jerker “This I promise you”. The crowd mellowed and Nick calmed down as the words softly echoed through the crowd.”And I will take you in my arms , and hold you right where you belong, til the day my life is through, this I promise you, this I promise you.” I held him tight to my side as the tears flowed down my face. “Daddy, why are you crying” he said. “I just love you buddy”… I told him and hugged him even tighter. These were the best of times, these were the worst of times. I had a night that would be forever cemented in my heart. And hopefully his too. Happy Birthday Buddy.

Next up: Now What?

Well, all the hopes and prayers and wishing and hoping were for naught. The Donor Lymphocyte Infusion had run it’s course and the Leukemia was running amok throughout my body. January saw weekly trips to the hospital for constant bloodwork and consultation about the next course of treatment. We needed to keep a close watch on how rapidly my white cell count was accelerating. The major issue with CML is that at any instant the disease can progress to what is a called a Blast Crisis. When this occurs, the bone marrow begins to turn out lymphocytes so fast that the immature cells are useless in fighting infection and begin to overwhelm the marrow. Coming back from this situation is rare and ultimately occurs in death. Dr. Dave knew this all too well and planned our next move.

The first week of February, we would return to repeat the DLI. Another full day of my brother Glenn having to go through Pheresis on the machine that would again have to harvest the white cancer free cells from his blood. Kind of rinse and repeat. After the cells were processed, I would be waiting in another room to receive the hopefully life saving infusion. Everything went as planned. It was old hat by now. I felt bad, as usual, for Glenn. It was really uncomfortable for the donor during the procedure and there was always some recuperation needed afterwards. Same for me. This was it though. If this DLI doesn’t work there will not be another. Back to the playbook. Back to the desperation that is fighting cancer and realizing that you might be losing your battle. It really fu@%#ks with your mind. This was a very difficult period for me. I could only try to keep my composure around my family and co-workers and battle on. DLI number two was in the books.

A week had passed since the Infusion and I felt pretty normal. No side effects were evident and my bloodwork results were trending positively. Dr. Dave was somewhat pleased with my first visit back. He was very positive as usual. He always was very positive. His job had to be so stressful. So many souls depending on his every move. The waiting room was always full of patients in various stages of distress. You could classify them by their appearance. You get the picture. The office staff were also very accommodating and compassionate. Their job wasn’t easy either. Dr. Dave gave hope to one and all. Until he couldn’t. For all of the patients he saved there were many he could not. The cycle of life. Here I was again. Depending on his every move, depending on his expertise and depending on him.

Weekly appointments would be my life now for the next two months. There wasn’t much to do but wait and hope for the best. Everything would play out in that time and we will see whether the second time is the charm or we’ll be back to the drawing board. I have to remain positive. Right?

Next up: March On

Married with young kids…New Years festivities were never that crazy given the circumstances. We still had to finish out the Christmas season through New Years Eve. Luckily, our gift returns were always minimal. Sometimes our after holiday sales were great too!

The call came during the middle of the week right before New Years. It wasn’t good news. Dr. Dave seemed sullen as he very technically described the ins and outs of DLI failure. My bloodwork was not great. White cells had climbed at a faster pace and additional Leukemia markers were becoming more agregious. In other words, we had a failure to communicate in the marrow and the cancer was coming back strong again. This New Years will suck. I can’t get a break. I would begin taking the Hydroxyurea again to try to control the white cell count and break the news to everyone that the DLI was a failure. Step up to plan B. Plan B was Plan A all over again. Starting mid January, Glenn and I would repeat the same process step by step. Deja vu. He’s going to be so happy! Not.

So here we were. Celebrating another year. Up until July, I was on top of the world. No worries…all good. Now, back to the grind. I’m going to have to come up with a great resolution this year. How about… I’ll do whatever it takes to stay alive and find that cancer free spot in my life again. That would be good. That’s my resolution. As the ball dropped and the countdown commenced, I hugged my wife and boys tight and gave them big kisses when the clock struck twelve. Some tears fell for sure but our thoughts were always positive.

Our ninth wedding anniversary was coming up on the 29th of February…a leap day wedding. At that point we would be into the second DLI procedure hoping for good news. Fingers crossed!

As I write today, the 28th of February 2021, Lori and I celebrated or 29th wedding anniversary. We dined in covid style and I cooked her Steamed Lobster and grilled Asparagus. Finished with assd cheesecake slices and some hot tea. I hope for our 30th we can celebrate eating Pasta Carbonara in a quaint Italian city near Bologna or Belaggio. She deserves it. Happy Anniversary Honey…Love You.

Next up: Round 2…Lets Go

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

A friend of mine called me this week to remind me of an occurrence in my life that was less than pleasurable. He had seen a video of a horrible auto accident that was identical to one that I was in back in 1994. The first time I thought that I might not be there for Nick. He was barely a newborn and the first time we left him with our In-laws. Our friends Roseanne and Khourosh were having an engagement party in Boston on a Saturday afternoon. The plan was to leave Nick at my In-laws home in the Bronx and fly local to Boston with Lors friends. Wasn’t happening. It was supposed to be bad weather in Boston so we bagged that idea and decided to drive. Michelle and Ed, our friends from Florida,via New York, would drive up with us. About a 4 hour trip. Lor and I gave Nick a big hug and kiss and left him alone for the first time since he was born, to stay overnight in the Bronx. A couple tears for sure. Nonno and Nonna were in heaven! We loaded up our new Isuzu Rodeo, buckled up and went on our way.

I was driving this morning, Lor was my copilot, Michelle behind Lor and Ed behind me. Traffic is always crazy in New York and you have to be on top of your game…always. Our route would take us all the way up I95 North crossing through New York into Connecticut and straight to the Mass Highway towards Boston. Simple enough. It was a bright day, good visibility and traffic was moving at a pretty fast clip…around 70 mph. I was driving in the inside lane of the three lane highway doing about 70 mph skirting the concrete barrier separating the highway and noting that we were 2 miles from the Greenwich CT. Exit. The road was curving to the left and in one instant Michelle screamed “look out”!! And pointed to the oncoming traffic. With nowhere to go and about one half second to react, I screamed for Lor to duck! I slammed the brakes! At that moment, the missile that was a full wheel and tire, coming from the southbound lane, launched off the median, impacted the hood, windshield and roof beam like a nuclear missile. It was like a huge explosion from a bomb. It bounced off the center of the hood, into the windshield and the the center of the roof. The impact had crushed the center of the roof down into the center console between Lor and I in one violent second. The left side of the roof hit me in the head as I tried to steer safely towards the guardrail concrete barrier. All at seventy miles an hour.

When the action stopped. Michelle was screaming, having an anxiety attack. We couldn’t see Lori. She was beneath the majority of the crushed roof. I ran outside the car and ripped open the passenger door. The whole roof was literally halfway below the door frames. I found her in a cocoon like position. Curled up safe in a ball of steel that was the dashboard, Roof and doorframe. I grabbed her to see if she was ok. She was in shock and reciting the Lords prayer. Luckily, she was wearing sunglasses. They were impaled with shards of windshield glass as well as her face, arms, chest and legs. There was so much traffic that day. It was backed up for miles as ambulances needed to get through to us. We were fortunate to have had two EMS workers behind us to help right away. Michelle needed oxygen as she became hysterical when she saw Lor. I left my wife to the EMS workers and went to assess the damage to the truck. As I was leaning on the concrete meridian, I looked at the vehicle and couldn’t believe that we were alive. An older gentleman came up to me and handed me some Dunking Donuts napkins. Apparently I had a pretty good gash on my head where the roof had hit me during the impact. Hadn’t noticed the blood. The gentleman gave me some play by play as he was driving along side of us. “That was the best Fuc#@%g driving I have ever seen” he said. I had only a very small section in the left bottom of the windshield to see through and just skidded as close to the median at 70 mph as I could. The girls were loaded into one ambulance and rushed to the Greenwich hospital ER. Ed and I followed soon after. The Isuzu would be towed to a local body shop.

We got to the hospital and were examined for a minute. Got a head bandage and left to find my wife right away! In a few minutes I heard her voice from behind a curtain. Thank God. She was ok. The doctors were removing pieces of glass from all parts of her body. I felt so bad. Michelle called her father to pick us up, he was the closest, and we went to the truck to get our overnight bags and head back to the Bronx. It was a sobering vision to see the condition of the truck. And scary. The girls were in pretty tough shape too. I felt so bad. When we walked into Lors house her parents were in shock too,I think. We looked like we were in a war. Bloody ripped clothes. Bruised and bandaged. I just wanted to hug my baby boy. I couldnt let him go. This was so close. Too close.

Lori came to me and said “We still have time to make it”. Are you shitten me? She was still in shock. But this was her best friend’s engagement party. And I almost lost her. Lets goo! Anything you want honey. We piled into my In-laws car and headed back the same way we just came from. Four hours later we walked into the hotel lobby like a bunch of zombies. I couldnt wait to wash the blood off of me. We were a sight.

And we had a wonderful time.

On a side note…the wheel that hit us bounced over 4 lanes of traffic into the woods. The troopers said that they usually were calling the morgue on these types of accidents and a very apologetic Hispanic gentleman asked to speak with me. He had a very old van that just had tires put on it. He said the wheel started to rattle and eventually flew off. His vehicle continued along I95 until the momentum slowed and his van fell to the ground. The Troopers found him a quater mile down the road and he asked to go to the hospital to apologize and see how we were doing. He had no insurance.

We made it back home in one piece the next day. We had to borrow my mother in laws car to drive to Philly and it took forever to get our car back. It should have been totaled. Just another terrible memory that lingered into the future only to be trumped two years later. Nine lives…yep. Thank God my wife had an Ah Hah moment and made us get life insurance right after. It became the only life insurance that I could ever get again. She was right. Thanks Lor.

Next Up: DLI TIME