On March 17, 2008, my son CJ had a routine tonsillectomy because his large tonsils were causing loud snoring and apnea episodes. Little did my family know at that time that we would be in for a big surprise! This also came as a huge surprise to the ENT Doctor and Oncologist as they have never experienced a case such as CJ's before. CJ had no outward symptoms of the Lymphoma and it was a miracle that it was found after the biopsy was done on his tonsils. He was diagnosed with Large B-Cell Lymphoma on March 25, 2008.
I was in the Chicago, IL area on a business trip when I got the worst news a parent could possibly hear. I felt helpless and cried till there were no tears left as I fell to my knees in prayer after I got the call. I had to present a plan to Ace Hardware Corporation the next morning in front of all their top executives and I was wondering how I was going to do it in under the emotional condition that I was in. At the time, I didn't know anything except for the fact that my son had cancer. I had a million questions running through my mind, anxiety was wearing on my heart, but I just kept praying. The next morning came and I told my colleague that was with me on the trip over breakfast about it before we left for Ace Hardware's corporate office. He gave me some words of encouragement and God got me through the presentation. The next day, I flew home and the first clinic appointment for CJ was the following day.
We learned that CJ's lymphoma was isolated to one tonsil and we felt very fortunate that it was caught early. Dr. Mark Mogul felt that CJ had a 100% chance of a full recovery and all the tests performed on him showed that there were no other signs of cancer spread throughout his body. Although the prognosis was good, he still had to undergo chemotherapy for 8 weeks (initially thought 6 weeks) to kill any possible cancer cells that may have been in his body and make sure that the lymphoma wouldn't return. CJ's lymphoma was a very aggressive type of cancer. His treatments included chemotherapy, medicine therapy, and routine lumbar punctures to test for cancer cells that like to hibernate in the spinal fluid. All of his treatments were administered through the portacath that was surgically placed on his chest April 1, 2008.
CJ was a very strong trooper throughout the experience. I will never forget his courage and bravery as he went into the clinic for the first time and listened to his Doctor explain his cancer and explain the surgery that he was going to have the very next day with the portacath inserted into his chest. He teared just a little asking if it was going to hurt. Dr. Mogul assured him that he would be asleep and wouldn't feel a thing. They checked his blood on this visit by pricking him in his arm which caused CJ to cry in pain a little. CJ asked if he would have to get pricked in his arm again and he was told that this was one of the reasons why he needed to get the portacath so he wouldn't feel the pain of being pricked for blood. We would put what was called "magic cream" on his chest before every chemo treatment so his skin would be numb when they would insert the needle into his portacath.
The only time CJ ever cried again during his entire treatment was a day I will never forget. CJ was going to pre-school at the time and while he was going through treatment, we were warned that his hair would start to fall out. Well, one day at school, some patches of his hair started falling out and he would grab it and show it to his teacher saying with excitement, "Look, my hair is falling out!" Excitement is the key word here because what adult do you know in your right mind would get excited about such a thing? His teacher was struck with sadness and didn't really know what to say other than, "Oh...well, you'll have to show your parents." CJ loved school and he would never contemplate leaving.
Later that day, I came home from work and saw him in the kitchen. He showed me some of his hair that fell out again in excitement as if it was cool. I was deeply saddened but had to hold back my emotions from bursting in tears. I wanted him to see a strong daddy and I just smiled, knelt down on one knee to look at him at eye level, and told him that we were going to have to shave his head as we had talked about before because we knew this day would eventually happen. He had patches of hair missing on his head and I told him that his hair would grow back eventually. He said, "OK...but when will it grow back?" I said that I didn't know but I assured him that it would. He had a solemn look on his face as we entered the bathroom to shave his head.
After I was done shaving his head, he looked in the mirror to see what he looked like. He immediately started crying as he looked in the mirror. As I held him, I had to hold back tears of my own. I just smiled at him and told him he was very handsome over and over again while assuring him that his hair would grow back. He stopped crying and then he went right back to playing with his toys as if nothing had happened. I was amazed by this! Meanwhile, I went upstairs to my room, closed the door so he wouldn't see me, and cried. I cried for many reasons as you can imagine but I also cried tears of joy because of the fact that he didn't sulk like an adult would in the same situation. He just started playing right away and he showed his courage and bravery at school when he would continue to attend (his decision) even though some classmates picked on him for being bald. His hair eventually came back.
CJ is cancer free after he completed his treatments and I take him in for routine check ups to have his blood levels evaluated. CJ is a very bright and loving boy who was 5 years old at the time of his treatments. He loves to play and has tons of energy like any 6 year old! He will be 7 years old in November and time has just flown by like the wind. He loves comic characters such as Spiderman and Wolverine, often running around the house pretending to be each super hero! He loves going to the park, coloring, watching his favorite cartoons, and playing with his friends. He loves to make people laugh just like daddy, often imitating me and my jokes.
Heroes can come in many different shapes, sizes, and numbers. Some people may have many heroes and some may only have one. CJ is definitely one of my heroes! He taught me how to laugh, play, and live in the face of adversity. In many ways, he reminded me why we must have a heart of a child to enter God's kingdom as it says in the Bible. I will always remember his fighting spirit and heart of gold. Godspeed!
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
The Revolutionary Cleaning War
Crumbs on kitchen countertops, pee on toilet seats, tiny hand or fingerprints on walls, food on kitchen floor, dust everywhere, clothes thrown from here to there, diapers everywhere, and the endless supply of dirty hands with happy dirty faces ready to grab and greet you after every fine meal. In the revolutionary cleaning war, the only thing more accurate than incoming enemy fire is incoming friendly fire. When you have little babies or toddlers, this is especially true. Trying to evade the direct stream of pee flying at your face from your baby boy at about eighty miles per hour is like running out of your foxhole in a combat zone yelling, “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
The direct hit of pee on your face only confirms the fact that war is indeed rottener than politics. The only sadder part is that your baby boy is smiling and laughing back at you as you clean your face off. Yes, I took the direct hit from Tyler when he was an infant and remember it vividly. It wasn’t the first time that it’s happened to me. CJ did it too when he was an infant as I was bathing him in his infant bathing tub. Madison used to throw food on the floor from her high chair for the dogs that we used to have, but when the dogs left the house for good, I became her next victim. She decided to start throwing food at me as if I was starving and needed to eat. In addition, she would leave food trails on the floor forgetting that the dogs were no longer with us.
Now that they’re 2, 3, and 6 years old respectively, I don’t have to worry about direct fire coming at me with extraneous waste or food, thank God! However, the cleaning battles still exist. Tyler is in the process of potty training and doing pretty well with it so far. He is going to the potty all by himself and he’s got the peeing in the potty part down like an officer in the field. We are working on the pooping part and that is proving to be a challenge for him. All the praise and candy offerings don’t seem to be working at this point in time.
Recently, as I was preparing dinner one night, I heard this little grunt and squirm come from little Tyler. I scrambled to get him as I dropped my cooking utensils and picked him up as if I was carrying a wounded soldier and ran to the bathroom as “bombs away” thoughts were running through my mind. I was just hoping that his turds would land in the toilet instead of his wolverine underwear. As in the old saying, I was a day late and a dollar short. All of it came out in his underwear and the cleaning began. We strive to conquer the pooping part in due time.
Cleaning over and over and over again is what you do when you’re a parent. The amount of cleaning escalates when all your kids bring their friends to your house. How many times have you toiled to clean your carpets and hardwood floors by vacuuming, sweeping, dusting, and mopping…only to have it ruined minutes later by a herd of excitable children? The thundering stampede come running in with their shoes covered in mud leaving the clean floors dirty again when you weren’t looking. Thus, the cleaning starts all over again and the traditional working husband wonders why he finds his stay at home wife and mother wallowing in a fetal position sitting in the corner of their kitchen floor when he gets home from work. The look of insanity on her face and one mud foot track away from explosion.
This is why I believe Bill Cosby once said, “I am not the boss of my house. I don't know when I lost it. I don't know if I ever had it. But I have seen the boss's job and I do not want it.”
Another parent once told me that cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is much like shoveling the drive before it has stopped snowing. My advice is keep on keepin’ on and to all you working dad’s out there, just do your best to help your stay at home wife and mother as much as you can because they have the hardest job. Take it from me, a single dad who knows the ropes and is still learning how to climb. Although the war may be at its peak when you have little ones destroying your house day in and day out, every parent knows that the revolutionary cleaning war never ends.
The direct hit of pee on your face only confirms the fact that war is indeed rottener than politics. The only sadder part is that your baby boy is smiling and laughing back at you as you clean your face off. Yes, I took the direct hit from Tyler when he was an infant and remember it vividly. It wasn’t the first time that it’s happened to me. CJ did it too when he was an infant as I was bathing him in his infant bathing tub. Madison used to throw food on the floor from her high chair for the dogs that we used to have, but when the dogs left the house for good, I became her next victim. She decided to start throwing food at me as if I was starving and needed to eat. In addition, she would leave food trails on the floor forgetting that the dogs were no longer with us.
Now that they’re 2, 3, and 6 years old respectively, I don’t have to worry about direct fire coming at me with extraneous waste or food, thank God! However, the cleaning battles still exist. Tyler is in the process of potty training and doing pretty well with it so far. He is going to the potty all by himself and he’s got the peeing in the potty part down like an officer in the field. We are working on the pooping part and that is proving to be a challenge for him. All the praise and candy offerings don’t seem to be working at this point in time.
Recently, as I was preparing dinner one night, I heard this little grunt and squirm come from little Tyler. I scrambled to get him as I dropped my cooking utensils and picked him up as if I was carrying a wounded soldier and ran to the bathroom as “bombs away” thoughts were running through my mind. I was just hoping that his turds would land in the toilet instead of his wolverine underwear. As in the old saying, I was a day late and a dollar short. All of it came out in his underwear and the cleaning began. We strive to conquer the pooping part in due time.
Cleaning over and over and over again is what you do when you’re a parent. The amount of cleaning escalates when all your kids bring their friends to your house. How many times have you toiled to clean your carpets and hardwood floors by vacuuming, sweeping, dusting, and mopping…only to have it ruined minutes later by a herd of excitable children? The thundering stampede come running in with their shoes covered in mud leaving the clean floors dirty again when you weren’t looking. Thus, the cleaning starts all over again and the traditional working husband wonders why he finds his stay at home wife and mother wallowing in a fetal position sitting in the corner of their kitchen floor when he gets home from work. The look of insanity on her face and one mud foot track away from explosion.
This is why I believe Bill Cosby once said, “I am not the boss of my house. I don't know when I lost it. I don't know if I ever had it. But I have seen the boss's job and I do not want it.”
Another parent once told me that cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is much like shoveling the drive before it has stopped snowing. My advice is keep on keepin’ on and to all you working dad’s out there, just do your best to help your stay at home wife and mother as much as you can because they have the hardest job. Take it from me, a single dad who knows the ropes and is still learning how to climb. Although the war may be at its peak when you have little ones destroying your house day in and day out, every parent knows that the revolutionary cleaning war never ends.
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