My 26 Year CML Leukemia Adventure

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

So, the next step in a relapse situation is to form a plan of action. This would consist of a meeting of the oncology minds at the hospital, setting up the consult and preparing myself for what comes next. For what comes next. I had prepared myself three years earlier. It was mental torture. The fear of the unknown and the potential outcome of the transplant was a life or death scenario. As a cancer patient, dealing with the unknown is as bad as dealing with the cancer. Here we go again.

My appointment began as usual. Blood draw, weight check, escort to the exam room and a bunch of questions from unrelenting residents. At this visit, my exam room was a larger version because Dr. Dave would be performing yet another bone marrow aspiration. I can’t wait. It never gets any easier….You just know what to expect. After the procedure we would get down to the business of what comes next. Dr. Dave went about his usual protocol. Walking in with the big stainless tray of big ass needles, it was go time. Grab the top of the table, curl my toes at the other end, feel the huge needle pierce my bone and wait for the big draw. Motherfu#%#$r. This stuff was getting old yet we were starting all over again.

I was given a few minutes to gather myself after the procedure and prepare for the consult. The pain in my hip was just an afterthought. The reveal of my future was minutes away and the only focus I had at the time. What’s the plan Dave? I was on the edge of my seat. Literally. Its hard to lean back when you just got impaled by a freaking ice pick. Anyway, the first item on the agenda was to wait for all of the test results to come back. Aspiration results, Chimerism result, new PCR result and the basic CBC. We already knew that the results were going to show, positive results for CML, but to what extent? The second item was part two of the plan. The DLI.

A Donor Lymphocyte Infusion or DLI would be my next avenue of treatment. This procedure would result in my brother, my original donor, to come into the hospital and undergo a procedure called Pheresis. This would entail having an IV placed in each arm where blood drawn from one arm would travel through a special machine, extract the cells needed for the DLI, then place the original blood back into his bloodstream through the other arm. A several hour long procedure. Not very comfortable to say the least. After processing the cells, I would receive them through an IV drip in another room and hopefully be able to leave as an outpatient barring any major complications. The DLI was supposed to regenerate my brothers donor bone marrow, now mine, to kill off the returning marrow that was my own. We didn’t want my marrow to return. Bad marrow. The Chimerism that was being run would let me know the state of the DNA in my bone marrow soon. Dr. Dave was also running a typing test to see if my blood was going back to O Positive from my current change to B Positive.

This was the grand plan. The DLI would reverse the trend. It would put me back into the desired state of remission for which we all so desired. Again. The course was charted. Two weeks. Let’s get it.

Next Up: Reminiscing

Trying to put myself together, I made my way home that beautiful day. I went from being in such a wonderful place in my life finally, to the lowest that I could ever imagine. All in the matter of a few minutes. AGAIN. Sorry, I know that you can’t tell as you read this but I have paused writing for about ten minutes as I am getting a bit emotional. This is a tough one. If you have or had cancer and gone through the tremendous emotional and physical trials and tribulations of being diagnosed and treated into remission, it is exhausting. “Remission” is such a beautiful word though. “Relapse” not so much.

Very soon I would be breaking the news again to my family. They had been through so much already. Nick was getting to be a big boy and Joe was coming up on his third birthday and fiesty as ever. They wouldn’t understand yet the seriousness of the situation. Everyone else would. Lor reminded me before writing this excerpt, she never forgets anything, about what transpired that day after Dr. Dave broke the news to me. I was in another world and it was a blur. I had to pick her at work and head out to attend a funeral. A sad enough day. Our family was going through a happy time too. My sister Donna and her husband Dave just welcomed their first child Zachary into the world. When I picked Lori up at work, I was in a bad state, she said. I told her what Dr. Dave said and then I broke down. She was so tough. Keeping it together for me. Probably in shock too though. She graduated from having a husband diagnosed with Leukemia three years earlier, a two year old, pregnant and only thirty two years old… to a thirty-five year old with a five year old, a two year old and a husband with Leukemia…again. I was facing the prospect of death for the second time and Lori the prospect of being a young widow with children for the second time. If you get my drift here, the second time just sucks all over again. But worse.

We would wait until the next day to tell my family. The night was somber enough. We wouldn’t say anything to the boys of course, they were just too young to understand. I don’t remember the rides back and forth from the funeral , I’m sure that they were pretty intense. Arriving home, the boys were in bed, our sitter Karen left and I went to each of their rooms to watch them sleep. I told them how sorry I was. How I would fight so hard again. The thought of not being there for them again…was inconceivable. The next morning I called my parents and broke the news. As you can expect, it was devastating to them… Again. And my siblings. And my in -laws. Again.

There would be new treatments, more bone marrow aspirations, more medications, more weekly visits to the hospital, more pain, anxiety, missed work and at this point, no clue about what my future would hold. This was some serious shit… again.

Next up: Charting the Course

Mid July, 1999, it was time for my semi annual trip to see Dr. Dave. It was now three years plus since my original CML diagnosis and life was just great. The move to the new store was going well and at five and three years old…Nick and Joe were just a blast. My whole world. My goal when I was originally told that I had cancer was to see Nick go to Kindergarten and of course meet Joe. This I’d written in my prior blogs and this September Nick would be graduating Pre-K and heading to the Upper Moreland Elementary school to begin his academic big boy journey. My goals were met! Now today, no need for GPS, my car knew all by itself how to drive down to the hospital.

Up the elevator to the 15th floor, a quick left, then another and into the office to see Dr. Dave. My appointments were always made for Thursdays in the late afternoon. I would begin my appointment day at the store and gather everything that I would need to drive down to Jewelers Row and take care of business. I would visit my diamond dealers, setters, lazer jewelers, polisher, findings dealers and gold dealers, engraver and get any needed boxes or bags etc. I would keep my trusted briefcase firmly attached to me and after completing my work tasks head to my appointment. That briefcase never left my side and followed me while my blood was drawn, my weigh-in and my walk to the exam room to wait for Dr. Dave. “Keenan”! Always freaking upbeat, ” How ya feelin”? Always asked about the boys, Lor, my family and business. The obligatory exam followed and within a twenty minute window, I was on my way back to the store. In about 10 days to two weeks , I would call in to get my results and begin the cycle all over again.

Jay Roberts Jewelers was a fine jewelry store in Marlton, NJ. The owner Jay was a super nice guy and very successful in the field. Another guy with humble beginnings in Northeast Philly who made it big, hobnobbing with pro football and basketball players etc. He had a beautiful store and a great business. We did business together providing my store with some added bling and custom jewelry that I would occasionally need on memo for customers. On this particular day, I had driven to Marlton to pick up a few things that I needed. A beautiful afternoon in July. Sunny, bright, warm…but not too. A glorious day. On my way back to the store, I thought that sufficient time had passed since my appointment at Hahnemann and I would give Kim in the office a call. She was the head person in the office and usually conveyed the results of my bloodwork to me. I dialed the phone and asked to speak with Kim directly… like always. I was driving down Rt. 73 in Marlton, windows down, taking in the breeze and the warmth of the sun. “Hey Jeff”. I didnt like the sound of her voice. I asked about my bloodwork and awaited her response of “Everything looks great, see you in six months”. Instead, she told me that Dr. Dave wanted to speak with me.

I waited on hold for what felt like forever. The phone clicked in and he started to speak. “Keenan…how ya feelin”? “Where are you right now”? I told him that I was driving at the time and he asked me if I had a chance to pull over or call him back when I had a chance. I pulled into the parking lot of a Marriott hotel on 73 and parked under the shade of a Maple tree. “Ok Dave… what’s up”? He told me that there were inconsistencies with my bloodwork and that they needed me to come in as soon as possible to repeat the tests. The silence on my end of the phone compelled him to ask if I was ok. I told him that I needed him to be straight up with me…then and there. “Apparently”, he said, my white cell count was trending up again and my PCR test was also positive for the CML markers that confirm that I was relapsing back into the full blown Leukemia that I had fought so hard to overcome. Really?? I was so confident that I was in the clear! Three years out!

Dave asked me if I was ok and his voice was not so upbeat anymore. He told me to keep my head up and that he would put a plan into effect after I came in to repeat the bloodwork again, along with another bone marrow aspiration. He told me to be careful driving home and that Kim would call me to arrange an immediate appointment. “I’m so sorry bud…talk soon”. My sunroof was open and I looked up to the sun. The tears began to flow down my face and my chest tightened up to the point that I felt dizzy as panic and anxiety coursed through my body. Sobbing uncontrollablly, I couldn’t imagine how I would tell Lori that this was happening again! Why me? I couldn’t fu#&*%g believe it!! It was like a huge freaking rock just dropped out of that tree above me… landing on my head and crushing my whole being. This felt ten times worse than the first time they told me that I had Leukemia. And my boys. My Boys. Oh my God. So much for such a beautiful day. “Relapse” is an awful word. Bring it on…Bitch!

Next up: Breaking the News

Summer of 98, my lease in the Roosevelt Mall was coming to an end and it was time to go. Seventy five hour weeks would become a happily welcomed bygone. After what I had lived through since May of 96, it was time to slow down. Business after ten years had been going well and my customer base was growing exponentially. So here we go! I could probably throw a baseball across Bustleton avenue and hit my new store. The store was attached to a Pep Boys Automotive center and was formally an ice cream store called Hillary’s. The store was empty for a few years but had great visibility, parking and traffic in the small strip center. I would have to be ready to move in by November 15th to capitalize on the Holiday season and provide a seamless flow of business without interruption.

We had an blank slate/palate to start with and this made things easy. I always built my own stores with the help of various contractors who were friends of mine. I used to do tenant fit-ups for many retail chains for years, another of my many talents/businesses, so it was easy and cost efficient. Working day and night between stores, we built quickly and with just a shut down for a few days opened right on time. The biggest issue always was moving the safe. So Heavy!

I was able to now reduce the unnecessary business hours we had at the mall and generate the same amount of business. This was sweet! We had a great holiday season as well as our first TV commercial that aired locally on Monday Night Football throughout the holidays! So cool! I was in it as well as two friends and employees. We added billboards all over and promoted, promoted, promoted! The Northeast Times and the Carrier Pigeon were crucial print avenues too! Who needed an “Internet”! Those were the days.

We entered into 1999 with a full head of steam, a new store, more free time to spend with my family and a new lease on life. Life was good. My January visit to HUH went well and I didnt have to see Dr.Dave again until June for my next sixth month check up. “Relax” and “Breathe”were my new words to live by…according to Dr. Dave. “Ok Then”.

Next up: It Was Such a Beautiful Day