Much has transpired since we last updated everyone who follows our journey. Many of you get your updates on Liam via Gretchen's Facebook page, which often provides real time information, but others I know still look to this blog as their source of all things Liam and why I am posting here today. The last few months have been the hardest part of this journey so far. Each time we take a step forward we lose any ground gained and then some just a few weeks later. Liam's cancer has been relentless and none of the therapies he has had over the last few months have held him for more than a few weeks. Since his surgery last summer we have been in the throws of this battle nearly full time. Liam has endured numerous rounds of toxic chemo, damaging radiation, and painful antibodies in just the past couple of months. Each has beaten his cancer back but only for a few weeks at which time scans show it spreading to a new spot or growing back where it was just removed or killed. Up until a few weeks ago we felt we were possibly making headway as scans showed some disease but nothing significant and the decision was made to use antibodies to help his body fight the remaining residual disease. Unfortunately after 2 rounds of antibodies a random x-ray showed a suspicious spot on his right lung. The CT scan that followed showed what appears to be disease in his right lung as well as on his right kidney... again.
This news came just 48 hours before Christmas. And with it the question of did we want to continue to fight. This was a question that required no time to discuss or to think through. The answer was we will fight..start therapy next week. Liam would never quit and we will not quit while there remains hope in our hearts and a smile on his face. His love, passion, joy, touch, insight, and warmth are worth every bit of hope and fight there is to muster and not just from us but all of you. So the holiday we hoped would be filled with joy and renewed hope instead left us searching for the strength to make it through and appear as if all was right in our world for Liam and Ella's sake. The needed break in the country was then cut short because we needed to be back in NY to start chemo just a day after the magical morning of Christmas.
Liam finished the round of high dose chemo nearly 2 weeks ago and has been neutrapenic (no immune system) for nearly 10 days now. The chemo pretty much wiped him out and he has barely eaten, played, or been remotely himself, until last night when he seemed to perk up a bit. As if the neutrapenia and fear of being admitted were not enough, last Thursday we found blood in Liam's urine and it has been persistent since. The cause is unknown and could be due to a virus in his bladder called BK virus, which is spread through transfusions and typically only effects those with compromised immune systems. Liam has had countless transfusions so we all hope that this is the cause since it can be treated with a full month of antibiotics. The test takes 6 days and we should know in just a few days if this is the cause. The other possible causes could be the chemo he received 2 weeks ago or the right kidney due to the tumor that is attached to it. If the tumor and kidney the hope is that it is due to the chemo causing the tumor damage. Liam had an MRI yesterday to get a better picture of his kidney and we hope to hear about the results today or tomorrow.
So as you can see we have been through a bit of hell the last few months and are doing all we can to keep pushing ahead and to keep Liam engaged and fighting. Spending nearly most of each day and week at the hospital has taken its toll on Liam, Gretchen, and our family as a whole. Liam needs your hope and prayers more than ever before. Gretchen and I continue to dig deep to find hope, strength, and courage. We will fight with everything we have as we have done from day one. Liam continues to accept whatever comes at him each and every day like the brave prince he is. His days are filled with very little fun and yet he takes it all in stride and does as he needs to with very little fuss. I hear more complaining from adults about the weather, their jobs, their co-workers, family members, and acquaintances in the course of a week than I have heard from Liam in 4 full years. His almost daily display of bravery, strength, and perseverance is really unbelievable when you think about the fact that he is just a 6 year old little boy. He continues to inspire us and to shape the way we view the world and the people around us.
I also want to take a second to thank those who support our efforts to help bring needed change to the world of pediatric cancer by supporting our Cookies for Kids' Cancer Foundation. A special thanks to The Glad Company for taking a public stand against pediatric cancer. No other national brand has created awareness for pediatric cancer in such a meaningful way. Thank you to the thousands of people who held and supported Cookies for Kids'Cancer Bake Sales last year. Cookies will announce grants of half a million dollars to 5 of the top pediatric cancer centers in the country in the coming weeks and it would not be possible without the efforts of so many. Lastly a special thank you to our dear friend Emily for all you do to keep Cookies growing.
Thank You.
Posted by LWitt
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Saturday, September 18, 2010
PLEASE VOTE FOR COOKIES
Dear Friends,
You might not be aware that Cookies for Kids’ Cancer, the 501(c)3 nonprofit Gretchen and I started after Liam was diagnosed with Cancer, has been selected by the Jimmie Johnson Foundation (Nascar Driver - Lowe’s Team) as a winner in its Samsung Helmet of Hope program. The 13 chosen charities are now in a popularity contest to win and additional $20,000 grant. Plus the winning charity will receive a great deal of publicity and awareness courtesy of the most successful driver in Nascar! Help Cookies win like Jimmie Johnson wins!
VOTE NOW CLICK HERE
(bookmark link so you can return to it easily)
How can you help?
1. Vote for Cookies for Kids’ Cancer via the above link every day between now and September 29th. You can vote from every computer you can find and depending on your internet connection, from different browsers on the same computer!
2. Get everyone you know to vote as well…kids, friends, co-workers, etc.
3. Kids in college? Ask them to champion this effort on campus!
4. Have a Facebook Page? Share it! Like It!
5. Kids have a Facebook Page?…ask them to share it with all of their friends as well.
6. Company website?
7. Newsletter to customers?
8. Business meeting with a close customer or vendor? Ask them and their employees to get involved.
9. Kids in college? Get them to champion this effort on campus!
10. Help make someone aware of how easy it is to help bring awareness and dollars to pediatric cancer research…just the click of a mouse. Sadly September is Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month and I bet many of you had no idea.
Cookies has been in a heated battle for first place with another organization and why I have decided to go to my personal well and to reach out to all of you to help us pull ahead. After you vote the site will tell you what percent of the overall votes each charity in the running has earned. We need as much support as we can get to pull ahead and stay ahead. Voting once is nice but it will take a consistent daily vote from everyone to ensure Cookies comes out ahead. I know many of you are big supporters of our brave son Liam, our family, plus the organization we founded to fight back. This really is an easy way to help make a difference and it will take you just one to two minutes each day! Consider setting a reminder in your calendar or blackberry so you remember to vote each and every day!
VOTE NOW CLICK HERE!!
The winning charity will be announced live at the October 1st Nascar Cup Race at the Kansas Speedway! The exposure at the event and the media attention the winner will receive would provide Cookies with an immeasurable boost as we head into our biggest and busiest season. We appreciate any help you can bring to our effort. Cookies will grant more than half a million dollars before the end of the year to support research at the top pediatric cancer centers across the country. Please help us help Liam and other kids like him win. Vote for Cookies for Kids’ Cancer as the overall winner in the Jimmie Johnson Foundations Helmet of Hope Campaign.
You might not be aware that Cookies for Kids’ Cancer, the 501(c)3 nonprofit Gretchen and I started after Liam was diagnosed with Cancer, has been selected by the Jimmie Johnson Foundation (Nascar Driver - Lowe’s Team) as a winner in its Samsung Helmet of Hope program. The 13 chosen charities are now in a popularity contest to win and additional $20,000 grant. Plus the winning charity will receive a great deal of publicity and awareness courtesy of the most successful driver in Nascar! Help Cookies win like Jimmie Johnson wins!
VOTE NOW CLICK HERE
(bookmark link so you can return to it easily)
How can you help?
1. Vote for Cookies for Kids’ Cancer via the above link every day between now and September 29th. You can vote from every computer you can find and depending on your internet connection, from different browsers on the same computer!
2. Get everyone you know to vote as well…kids, friends, co-workers, etc.
3. Kids in college? Ask them to champion this effort on campus!
4. Have a Facebook Page? Share it! Like It!
5. Kids have a Facebook Page?…ask them to share it with all of their friends as well.
6. Company website?
7. Newsletter to customers?
8. Business meeting with a close customer or vendor? Ask them and their employees to get involved.
9. Kids in college? Get them to champion this effort on campus!
10. Help make someone aware of how easy it is to help bring awareness and dollars to pediatric cancer research…just the click of a mouse. Sadly September is Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month and I bet many of you had no idea.
Cookies has been in a heated battle for first place with another organization and why I have decided to go to my personal well and to reach out to all of you to help us pull ahead. After you vote the site will tell you what percent of the overall votes each charity in the running has earned. We need as much support as we can get to pull ahead and stay ahead. Voting once is nice but it will take a consistent daily vote from everyone to ensure Cookies comes out ahead. I know many of you are big supporters of our brave son Liam, our family, plus the organization we founded to fight back. This really is an easy way to help make a difference and it will take you just one to two minutes each day! Consider setting a reminder in your calendar or blackberry so you remember to vote each and every day!
VOTE NOW CLICK HERE!!
The winning charity will be announced live at the October 1st Nascar Cup Race at the Kansas Speedway! The exposure at the event and the media attention the winner will receive would provide Cookies with an immeasurable boost as we head into our biggest and busiest season. We appreciate any help you can bring to our effort. Cookies will grant more than half a million dollars before the end of the year to support research at the top pediatric cancer centers across the country. Please help us help Liam and other kids like him win. Vote for Cookies for Kids’ Cancer as the overall winner in the Jimmie Johnson Foundations Helmet of Hope Campaign.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
And the clouds give back every time they cry..
Last week was the worst week we have experienced in a very long time and quite possibly the worst since this journey began nearly four years ago. Liam has not been right since surgery 5 weeks ago to remove the small tumor in his chest. His recovery was too slow and he was not the Liam we knew the weeks prior to surgery when he was jumping in the pool, swimming, and enjoying summer like a kid is supposed to be able to do. The reason for his struggles became apparent last Friday when his recent scan results showed that his cancer was spreading. It has once again appeared around his right kidney and it could be that his kidney is now involved. The site in his chest that was just surgically cleared 5 weeks ago has new disease that looks as if nothing was even removed.
This is the most aggressive his disease has been and it has put Liam in a very dangerous place. He is weaker than he has been in a very long time and suffering from the effects of radiation and now the chemotherapy he is receiving this week in hopes of stopping the spread of this relentless, insidious, cancer. He is barely eating because he feels to sick to keep anything down, only making him weaker. We have never felt like we were losing this battle until now. Each relapse has been simply a bump in the road and together we have been able to meet it head on and get back on track to the amazement of many. This time is different. This relapse is much bigger and we have lost precious ground this time. We are scared for him in a way unlike any time in the past.
The conversation with Liam’s doctor was just as different. Each time in the past a game plan was presented and there was never a question of fighting on. Never a question of what do you as his parents want to do…it was obvious. This time we were both summoned to come in and discuss the situation even though everyone at MSKCC knows I have the scan result and game plan conversation alone and Gretchen is allowed to remain focused on Liam and the prize and is not to be brought into such discussions. This time the conversation started off with “this is serious” and then basically we were being asked if we wanted to wave the fucking white flag and surrender our son to this worthless enemy. No matter the words chosen by our doctor this was the question. Surrender to an enemy who’s too much of a coward to fight an adult like myself but rather it looks to steal our small innocent son.
Gretchen and I had already discussed this possibility and unless there was a case presented clearly stating we had no chance of stopping this disease we were going to keep going. We know Liam wants to live. He is one of the most alive people we have ever met and there is no question in our mind he would not want to give up if he had the ability to make such a decision on his own. It is a decision that a parent should never have to make because while we know fighting for his life is the right thing to do but it is tempered with the fact that we know the therapies we must use are taking their own toll on him and we also know it is very unlikely a cure. We all agreed to do a very strong regimen of 5 different chemo agents. It has to work. It must stop the progression we are seeing. We will then likely need to repeat the regimen and it will need to shrink the present disease to a point where it can be surgically removed again. We never stop hoping for a miracle and at the very least looking to buy him more time to experience the sun, moon, stars, sand, his best friend Tabor, and sweet adoring sister Ella. Liam needs your love, strength, support, acts of kindness, inspiration, and anything and everything you can spare for him now more than ever before. He is miserable and the coming weeks and months will only be more of the same for him and all of us involved. I cannot remember the last time I have seen him so beaten down. We need him to remain engaged and fighting. We all need more time to love and adore our Prince Liam. More time for Scientists to unlock the weak link in this cancer.
Last weekend Liam was supposed to travel to South Carolina to meet his friend Jack Johnson, a singer songwriter whose music Liam simply adores. He was going to be Jack’s guest backstage and to see Jack in concert. Unfortunately Friday’s news and the way Liam was feeling forced the trip and meeting to be cancelled. I so wanted him to be able to make this trip and for him to meet Jack whose music has put him to sleep and calmed his mind and heart so many times. I wanted him to leave an impression upon the man’s whose music touches his little soul, knowing Liam would surely touch his soul, as he has done to everyone who has had the pleasure of spending time with him. Instead Jack sang Liam’s favorite song to him and a friend of ours videotaped it and brought it to NY on Monday to share with Liam (thank you Emily we love you and thank you Jack!). The words to the song are below and the most amazing thing is the words are so fitting. It’s as if Jack knew Liam when he wrote this sweet song. It reflects Liam’s outlook on life, love of the sun, weather, the grass, and how his world really is a puzzle he enjoys taking apart and putting back together. Liam like the water gives us all a gift. If we could just give back to him like the clouds give back then the sun would come back out and he could follow it forever.
Talk of the Town by Jack Johnson
I want to be where the talk of the town
Is about last night when the sun went down
And the trees all dance
And the warm wind blows in that same old sound
And the water below gives a gift to the sky
And the clouds give back every time they cry
And make the grass grow green beneath my toes
And if the sun comes out
I'll paint a picture all about
The colors I've been dreaming of
The hours just don't seem enough
To put it all together
Maybe it's as strange as it seems
And the trouble I find is that the trouble finds me
It's a part of my mind it begins with a dream
And a feeling I get when I look and I see
That this world is a puzzle, I'll find all of the pieces
And put it all together, and then I'll rearrange it
I'll follow it forever
Always be as strange as it seems
Nobody ever told me not to try
And the water below gives a gift to the sky
And the clouds give back every time they cry
And make the grass grow green beneath my toes
And if the sun comes out
I'm going to paint a picture all about
The colors I've been dreaming of
The hours just don't seem enough
To put it all together
This is the most aggressive his disease has been and it has put Liam in a very dangerous place. He is weaker than he has been in a very long time and suffering from the effects of radiation and now the chemotherapy he is receiving this week in hopes of stopping the spread of this relentless, insidious, cancer. He is barely eating because he feels to sick to keep anything down, only making him weaker. We have never felt like we were losing this battle until now. Each relapse has been simply a bump in the road and together we have been able to meet it head on and get back on track to the amazement of many. This time is different. This relapse is much bigger and we have lost precious ground this time. We are scared for him in a way unlike any time in the past.
The conversation with Liam’s doctor was just as different. Each time in the past a game plan was presented and there was never a question of fighting on. Never a question of what do you as his parents want to do…it was obvious. This time we were both summoned to come in and discuss the situation even though everyone at MSKCC knows I have the scan result and game plan conversation alone and Gretchen is allowed to remain focused on Liam and the prize and is not to be brought into such discussions. This time the conversation started off with “this is serious” and then basically we were being asked if we wanted to wave the fucking white flag and surrender our son to this worthless enemy. No matter the words chosen by our doctor this was the question. Surrender to an enemy who’s too much of a coward to fight an adult like myself but rather it looks to steal our small innocent son.
Gretchen and I had already discussed this possibility and unless there was a case presented clearly stating we had no chance of stopping this disease we were going to keep going. We know Liam wants to live. He is one of the most alive people we have ever met and there is no question in our mind he would not want to give up if he had the ability to make such a decision on his own. It is a decision that a parent should never have to make because while we know fighting for his life is the right thing to do but it is tempered with the fact that we know the therapies we must use are taking their own toll on him and we also know it is very unlikely a cure. We all agreed to do a very strong regimen of 5 different chemo agents. It has to work. It must stop the progression we are seeing. We will then likely need to repeat the regimen and it will need to shrink the present disease to a point where it can be surgically removed again. We never stop hoping for a miracle and at the very least looking to buy him more time to experience the sun, moon, stars, sand, his best friend Tabor, and sweet adoring sister Ella. Liam needs your love, strength, support, acts of kindness, inspiration, and anything and everything you can spare for him now more than ever before. He is miserable and the coming weeks and months will only be more of the same for him and all of us involved. I cannot remember the last time I have seen him so beaten down. We need him to remain engaged and fighting. We all need more time to love and adore our Prince Liam. More time for Scientists to unlock the weak link in this cancer.
Last weekend Liam was supposed to travel to South Carolina to meet his friend Jack Johnson, a singer songwriter whose music Liam simply adores. He was going to be Jack’s guest backstage and to see Jack in concert. Unfortunately Friday’s news and the way Liam was feeling forced the trip and meeting to be cancelled. I so wanted him to be able to make this trip and for him to meet Jack whose music has put him to sleep and calmed his mind and heart so many times. I wanted him to leave an impression upon the man’s whose music touches his little soul, knowing Liam would surely touch his soul, as he has done to everyone who has had the pleasure of spending time with him. Instead Jack sang Liam’s favorite song to him and a friend of ours videotaped it and brought it to NY on Monday to share with Liam (thank you Emily we love you and thank you Jack!). The words to the song are below and the most amazing thing is the words are so fitting. It’s as if Jack knew Liam when he wrote this sweet song. It reflects Liam’s outlook on life, love of the sun, weather, the grass, and how his world really is a puzzle he enjoys taking apart and putting back together. Liam like the water gives us all a gift. If we could just give back to him like the clouds give back then the sun would come back out and he could follow it forever.
Talk of the Town by Jack Johnson
I want to be where the talk of the town
Is about last night when the sun went down
And the trees all dance
And the warm wind blows in that same old sound
And the water below gives a gift to the sky
And the clouds give back every time they cry
And make the grass grow green beneath my toes
And if the sun comes out
I'll paint a picture all about
The colors I've been dreaming of
The hours just don't seem enough
To put it all together
Maybe it's as strange as it seems
And the trouble I find is that the trouble finds me
It's a part of my mind it begins with a dream
And a feeling I get when I look and I see
That this world is a puzzle, I'll find all of the pieces
And put it all together, and then I'll rearrange it
I'll follow it forever
Always be as strange as it seems
Nobody ever told me not to try
And the water below gives a gift to the sky
And the clouds give back every time they cry
And make the grass grow green beneath my toes
And if the sun comes out
I'm going to paint a picture all about
The colors I've been dreaming of
The hours just don't seem enough
To put it all together
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Finally. An Update. Friday, August 13th.
Friday the 13th of August marked three weeks since surgery. The surgery itself was fine...as far as surgery goes. Dr. LaQuaglia once again literally saved our son's life and has kept him in the game. What that man does as a matter of routine business on a daily basis goes beyond comprehension. It turned out that the lymph node had sprouted tentacles that were branching out from it and ouching his esophagus, pulmonary artery (or was it the vena cava?) and lung. I don't even want to think about what it was ready to do. It was one of Liam's shorter surgeries, but after a too-long wait for a surgery update that left us anxious and nervous and without the benefit of a waiting room filled with friends to keep us preoccupied like we have had for Liam's other surgeries, it felt like one of the longest.
The past three weeks have been very long weeks filled with lots of annoying "little" things that individually can all be explained but collectively make for tense times. The roller coaster we normally ride has been even more intense. We had issues while still in patient after surgery that had me trying to comfort a little boy who was beside himself with anxiety while simultaneously and vigorously explaining to nurses how we were going to deal with a blocked port...an episode that started at 3 a.m. and didn't resolve itself until well after 5 a.m. They were ready to give up after a lackluster attempt and put Liam through something very painful. I was determined that they were going to work at it like I have seen other nurses work at a blocked port until they resolve the issue. In the end, it unblocked without needing to make Liam endure more pain.
After surgery on Friday afternoon, he was up and shuffling along, completely naked except for shoes, at 10 a.m. on Saturday morning. He would painfully shuffle to a fish tank filled with lots of colorful fish, glance up, and beg to shuffle back to the room. While we were still in patient after surgery, our sweet prince endured having his back pounded on every two hours through the night for the first two nights after surgery, including directly over his brand new 6" incision, to loosen the build up of fluid in one of his lungs that was heading towards pneumonia. He would yelp and cry in pain during the procedure while giving me a bear hug...all while listening to "his friend" Jack Johnson sing to him for comfort. He never once complained.
For 13 days post-surgery, he coughed and coughed and coughed nonstop trying to open up his lung and was finally treated with an antibiotic specifically for bacterial pneumonia, even though he didn't have any fever which is the tell-tale sign of a bacterial infection. The coughing was so intense it would make him throw up, cause his stomach to be in a constant state of discomfort and to be exhausted from the effort. It was vicious cycle that finally started to resolve itself around day 17.
Since he was returned to us from surgery, it feels like every time he starts to feel better he's hit with something that sets him back. It doesn't help that his recovery has involved more treatment. In the past three weeks he has gone through two rounds of Rituxan (the first was six days post-surgery), a different antibody he hasn't received before, which is a relatively "easy" experience although one that people have died while receiving so it is monitored very closely and requires a very long day (11 hours) at the hospital. He has also had a round of Irino/Temo low dose chemo between the rounds of Rituxan. He has had no appetite, although in the past 72 hours we have seen it coming back. ("You want cookies for breakfast? Absolutely! Eat as many as you want, honey! Can I get you some ice cream?") (Yes, the insanity of the situation never loses itself on us.) He has lost the weight he worked so hard to put on the weeks before surgery, something that is frustrating to him and us. On top of the pneumonia-like symptoms, he was hit out of the blue with the most awful stomach virus symptoms exactly one week after surgery that had him completely down for the count but increased his white blood cell count from a normal range of 4 - 11 to 21.5. When we got the CBC results with that white blood cell count, everyone...and I mean everyone...on his medical team was a bit wigged out and decided to share that wigged out feeling with me in front of Liam which left my knees ready to buckle as I tried to nonchalantly take in the news while acting like they were telling me the score of baseball game I was vaguely interested in. "He has two key key tumor markers that are incredibly elevated!" I was even asked, more than once, if I was giving him GCSF shots to increase his white blood cell count. ("Oh, yeah, you caught me...I have been giving him the injections he despises almost as much as he despises Temodar capsules just for the fun of it!) Not surprising to us because we knew how sick he was from the rogue virus-like symptoms that plagued him, his white blood count has since gone back to normal. In the 21 days since surgery, he has gone through radiation set up...yet again but this time with Ella by his side...that included another tattoo to help line up the radiation beams in exactly the right spot. This time to help ease his high anxiety, I told him I'd get a tattoo first to show him how it didn't hurt. The technician administering the tattoos thought I was joking. I wasn't. I let Liam pick out the place on my body he wanted me to get the tattoo. He chose a spot on my right forearm to match a freckle on his right forearm. He received the first of 10 radiation treatment to the area where the lymph node was. During the treatment course, he's going to get some more radiation to his scapula to go after it again.
It has been a lot but we're not complaining.
Throughout it all, we have been living and loving and loving living. We have been to the movies (Cats & Dogs isn't so great but the kids loved it), we have stumbled upon an amazing free concert of music from around the world at Lincoln Center that Liam and Ella loved, we have been enjoying the peace and quiet of our home in New Jersey, and with Ella's help ("Come on buddy, you can do it") have been prodding Liam along to get back to the Liam we all very much want and need to see...the little boy with boundless energy and enthusiasm. He's getting there. Slowly.
Next Friday is August 20th. It's my birthday. It's the fourth week after Liam's fourth surgery and the fourth birthday I'm marking (noting, not celebrating) since this journey began. Next Friday, August 20th, Liam has a CT scan scheduled. I have two favors to ask. 1. Please pray/believe/hope/chant/meditate that the CT shows what we all want and need for it to show...nothing. 2. Please have a bake sale this fall to support pediatric cancer research. Our incredibly supportive supporters at Glad just announced a bake sale match period from September to December. We want to take full advantage of this match. We have to...Liam and his friends are counting on it.
It has been a hard few weeks but we have never lost our faith...and he has never lost the essence of who he is...a sweet little boy who wants to do nothing more than to be a little boy and big brother.
In the past few days, Liam has been planning a party he wants to have this fall. He's calling it a fun party for everyone to come and have fun. While receiving antibodies and chemo, he has slowly and diligently written out invitations, come up with a schedule for the party, and deliberated on every aspect of the party. We will keep planning the party because that's what we should all do...look at life as one big party to enjoy and celebrate.
The past three weeks have been very long weeks filled with lots of annoying "little" things that individually can all be explained but collectively make for tense times. The roller coaster we normally ride has been even more intense. We had issues while still in patient after surgery that had me trying to comfort a little boy who was beside himself with anxiety while simultaneously and vigorously explaining to nurses how we were going to deal with a blocked port...an episode that started at 3 a.m. and didn't resolve itself until well after 5 a.m. They were ready to give up after a lackluster attempt and put Liam through something very painful. I was determined that they were going to work at it like I have seen other nurses work at a blocked port until they resolve the issue. In the end, it unblocked without needing to make Liam endure more pain.
After surgery on Friday afternoon, he was up and shuffling along, completely naked except for shoes, at 10 a.m. on Saturday morning. He would painfully shuffle to a fish tank filled with lots of colorful fish, glance up, and beg to shuffle back to the room. While we were still in patient after surgery, our sweet prince endured having his back pounded on every two hours through the night for the first two nights after surgery, including directly over his brand new 6" incision, to loosen the build up of fluid in one of his lungs that was heading towards pneumonia. He would yelp and cry in pain during the procedure while giving me a bear hug...all while listening to "his friend" Jack Johnson sing to him for comfort. He never once complained.
For 13 days post-surgery, he coughed and coughed and coughed nonstop trying to open up his lung and was finally treated with an antibiotic specifically for bacterial pneumonia, even though he didn't have any fever which is the tell-tale sign of a bacterial infection. The coughing was so intense it would make him throw up, cause his stomach to be in a constant state of discomfort and to be exhausted from the effort. It was vicious cycle that finally started to resolve itself around day 17.
Since he was returned to us from surgery, it feels like every time he starts to feel better he's hit with something that sets him back. It doesn't help that his recovery has involved more treatment. In the past three weeks he has gone through two rounds of Rituxan (the first was six days post-surgery), a different antibody he hasn't received before, which is a relatively "easy" experience although one that people have died while receiving so it is monitored very closely and requires a very long day (11 hours) at the hospital. He has also had a round of Irino/Temo low dose chemo between the rounds of Rituxan. He has had no appetite, although in the past 72 hours we have seen it coming back. ("You want cookies for breakfast? Absolutely! Eat as many as you want, honey! Can I get you some ice cream?") (Yes, the insanity of the situation never loses itself on us.) He has lost the weight he worked so hard to put on the weeks before surgery, something that is frustrating to him and us. On top of the pneumonia-like symptoms, he was hit out of the blue with the most awful stomach virus symptoms exactly one week after surgery that had him completely down for the count but increased his white blood cell count from a normal range of 4 - 11 to 21.5. When we got the CBC results with that white blood cell count, everyone...and I mean everyone...on his medical team was a bit wigged out and decided to share that wigged out feeling with me in front of Liam which left my knees ready to buckle as I tried to nonchalantly take in the news while acting like they were telling me the score of baseball game I was vaguely interested in. "He has two key key tumor markers that are incredibly elevated!" I was even asked, more than once, if I was giving him GCSF shots to increase his white blood cell count. ("Oh, yeah, you caught me...I have been giving him the injections he despises almost as much as he despises Temodar capsules just for the fun of it!) Not surprising to us because we knew how sick he was from the rogue virus-like symptoms that plagued him, his white blood count has since gone back to normal. In the 21 days since surgery, he has gone through radiation set up...yet again but this time with Ella by his side...that included another tattoo to help line up the radiation beams in exactly the right spot. This time to help ease his high anxiety, I told him I'd get a tattoo first to show him how it didn't hurt. The technician administering the tattoos thought I was joking. I wasn't. I let Liam pick out the place on my body he wanted me to get the tattoo. He chose a spot on my right forearm to match a freckle on his right forearm. He received the first of 10 radiation treatment to the area where the lymph node was. During the treatment course, he's going to get some more radiation to his scapula to go after it again.
It has been a lot but we're not complaining.
Throughout it all, we have been living and loving and loving living. We have been to the movies (Cats & Dogs isn't so great but the kids loved it), we have stumbled upon an amazing free concert of music from around the world at Lincoln Center that Liam and Ella loved, we have been enjoying the peace and quiet of our home in New Jersey, and with Ella's help ("Come on buddy, you can do it") have been prodding Liam along to get back to the Liam we all very much want and need to see...the little boy with boundless energy and enthusiasm. He's getting there. Slowly.
Next Friday is August 20th. It's my birthday. It's the fourth week after Liam's fourth surgery and the fourth birthday I'm marking (noting, not celebrating) since this journey began. Next Friday, August 20th, Liam has a CT scan scheduled. I have two favors to ask. 1. Please pray/believe/hope/chant/meditate that the CT shows what we all want and need for it to show...nothing. 2. Please have a bake sale this fall to support pediatric cancer research. Our incredibly supportive supporters at Glad just announced a bake sale match period from September to December. We want to take full advantage of this match. We have to...Liam and his friends are counting on it.
It has been a hard few weeks but we have never lost our faith...and he has never lost the essence of who he is...a sweet little boy who wants to do nothing more than to be a little boy and big brother.
In the past few days, Liam has been planning a party he wants to have this fall. He's calling it a fun party for everyone to come and have fun. While receiving antibodies and chemo, he has slowly and diligently written out invitations, come up with a schedule for the party, and deliberated on every aspect of the party. We will keep planning the party because that's what we should all do...look at life as one big party to enjoy and celebrate.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Swimming on Wednesday - Surgery on Friday
Be aware this post will start as an urgent update on Liam and end as a rant with a political and social bend...just the mood I am in and I make no apologies.
Last weeks scans show that the treatment over the last month has stopped the progression and both his shoulder and the spot in his chest show slight improvement. His team of doctors at Memorial Sloan-Kettering have decided that it is best to remove the soft tissue disease in his chest and we agree. The plan was to get him on the surgery schedule sometime next week but late today, around 5:30 pm, a slot became available this Friday. While we would love to pass on the earlier slot and let him enjoy another week of swimming and bonding with his little sister Ella, we want the cancerous mass out and we want it out now. The thought of it sitting inside him and knowing based on last Fridays scan that it is alive means it is likely growing. Think for a minute of someone you love and think about what it might feel like to sit there and not be able to stop what you know is trying to take them from you. Surgery while scary and risky is the one sure way of gaining ground on this relentless cancer. Chemo has it's limits and children can only get so much before it starts to do more damage than good. It is the number one reason we need new therapies to fight pediatric cancer and ones developed specifically for kids and their unique cancers and we need them desperately. Liam's type,neuroblastoma, is one of the most insidious and least understood of all pediatric cancers and yet it is the most common type of solid tumor and one of the most deadly. Today about 40% of kids diagnosed survive and kids who relapse have odds so low there is no reason to speak of them. I know many of you reading this know these facts or have heard Gretchen or I discuss them at various times in the past. This is simply a reminder so you know that nothing has changed! Each month we watch as more kids lose their battle as more are diagnosed and as those who seemed to have won fall victim to relapse and are plunged back into the abyss.
I know many have been truly bothered by the BP oil spill in the gulf of Mexico. We have all watched helplessly as an ecosystem was being destroyed before our very eyes. We all felt helpless and it gripped the nations attention for weeks and weeks on end. People wanted to stop it but felt helpless because they simply couldn't, they didn't have the power or ability to make a difference. BP is one of the villains in the saga of the oil spill much like our government policies and our beloved wall-street centric pharmaceutical companies are the villains as it relates to the disaster that unfolds each time a child is diagnosed with cancer in this great country of ours. The key difference being that with pediatric cancer you can make a difference, you can get involved and your efforts truly help. You don't have to sit on the couch watching this disaster unfold...you can do so much to make it better. Hold a Bake Sale, an Alex's Lemonade Stand, shave your head for St. Baldricks, write a letter to your representatives, tell your friends, scream, volunteer to help a small local non-profit that supports any facet of pediatric cancer, volunteer at a local pediatric cancer center, donate money, buy cookies, educate everyone you know and can influence so they know the facts about pediatric cancer and the need for their involvement in some form or fashion. To help us help Liam and others more advocacy needs to take place. Liam's story needs to be shared...people need to learn how to take action again and not feel helpless. One of the biggest problems in this country is that people don't feel they can make a difference in anything that happens and have given up trying...it just isn't so.
We with the help of many of you and thousands of others across the country have raised millions to support the needs of those on the front lines in the fight against pediatric cancer. True change will not happen until the majority takes action instead of a small minority. We know many of you will be praying for Liam and it is greatly appreciated but the best way any one of you can truly honor him and his fight is to fight with him...
Larry
Last weeks scans show that the treatment over the last month has stopped the progression and both his shoulder and the spot in his chest show slight improvement. His team of doctors at Memorial Sloan-Kettering have decided that it is best to remove the soft tissue disease in his chest and we agree. The plan was to get him on the surgery schedule sometime next week but late today, around 5:30 pm, a slot became available this Friday. While we would love to pass on the earlier slot and let him enjoy another week of swimming and bonding with his little sister Ella, we want the cancerous mass out and we want it out now. The thought of it sitting inside him and knowing based on last Fridays scan that it is alive means it is likely growing. Think for a minute of someone you love and think about what it might feel like to sit there and not be able to stop what you know is trying to take them from you. Surgery while scary and risky is the one sure way of gaining ground on this relentless cancer. Chemo has it's limits and children can only get so much before it starts to do more damage than good. It is the number one reason we need new therapies to fight pediatric cancer and ones developed specifically for kids and their unique cancers and we need them desperately. Liam's type,neuroblastoma, is one of the most insidious and least understood of all pediatric cancers and yet it is the most common type of solid tumor and one of the most deadly. Today about 40% of kids diagnosed survive and kids who relapse have odds so low there is no reason to speak of them. I know many of you reading this know these facts or have heard Gretchen or I discuss them at various times in the past. This is simply a reminder so you know that nothing has changed! Each month we watch as more kids lose their battle as more are diagnosed and as those who seemed to have won fall victim to relapse and are plunged back into the abyss.
I know many have been truly bothered by the BP oil spill in the gulf of Mexico. We have all watched helplessly as an ecosystem was being destroyed before our very eyes. We all felt helpless and it gripped the nations attention for weeks and weeks on end. People wanted to stop it but felt helpless because they simply couldn't, they didn't have the power or ability to make a difference. BP is one of the villains in the saga of the oil spill much like our government policies and our beloved wall-street centric pharmaceutical companies are the villains as it relates to the disaster that unfolds each time a child is diagnosed with cancer in this great country of ours. The key difference being that with pediatric cancer you can make a difference, you can get involved and your efforts truly help. You don't have to sit on the couch watching this disaster unfold...you can do so much to make it better. Hold a Bake Sale, an Alex's Lemonade Stand, shave your head for St. Baldricks, write a letter to your representatives, tell your friends, scream, volunteer to help a small local non-profit that supports any facet of pediatric cancer, volunteer at a local pediatric cancer center, donate money, buy cookies, educate everyone you know and can influence so they know the facts about pediatric cancer and the need for their involvement in some form or fashion. To help us help Liam and others more advocacy needs to take place. Liam's story needs to be shared...people need to learn how to take action again and not feel helpless. One of the biggest problems in this country is that people don't feel they can make a difference in anything that happens and have given up trying...it just isn't so.
We with the help of many of you and thousands of others across the country have raised millions to support the needs of those on the front lines in the fight against pediatric cancer. True change will not happen until the majority takes action instead of a small minority. We know many of you will be praying for Liam and it is greatly appreciated but the best way any one of you can truly honor him and his fight is to fight with him...
Larry
Thursday, July 15, 2010
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