Joey's Story: Life's Changes

The last few years of my life have not been the easiest years I have had to face, but they have not been the worst either, because I am living today to tell the story of a hard-nosed athlete who had to face reality within a matter of hours. My story is indeed much longer than what I am going to tell you, but what I'm going to tell you is the most heart-wrenching part of the whole experience.

March 23, 1996. The day I turned sixteen, and I was looking forward to taking the family car out that weekend with my girlfriend by my side. To my surprise, two days after my birthday I received a phone call from my family physician saying that I would have to be rushed up to Dartmouth Hospital because my platelet count was so low. After my mother got off the phone with the doctor, I immediately knew that something was wrong. I gave my mother a hug and grabbed the stuff I would need to spend the night in the hospital. My mother and I waited for my dad to come home before we left for the hospital. The oncologist they referred me to was the first person to clue me in on what was making me lose an average of two pounds a week for the last month and a half. He greeted me with the normal handshake and asked me if I knew why I was here. My reply was, "Yes, I think I have leukemia." I suspected this because I had recently done a report on leukemia in my health class.

The doctor said he had looked at my blood work and was not sure if I indeed had leukemia, but in the morning I would undergo a bone marrow test to find out what was going on. So the next morning, the nurse who later became my second mother performed my test and wished me the best of luck. The bone marrow test came back positive: I had acute lymphocytic leukemia (ALL). The next day, I would be given a day pass out of the hospital so I could sleep in my own bed and see my family before I underwent the first phase of the cancer treatments.

That day went by extremely fast, and before I knew it I was back in the hospital waiting to receive my first treatment. The first treatment was not any different than what anyone else would have received, the difference was in the way my body responded to the treatment. I do not remember what happened to my body when they gave me my first treatment- in fact, I do not really remember getting it. All I remember is that I felt sick and that they had an oxygen mask on my face because my lungs were not working properly. From that point on- for the next month and a half- I have no recollection of what happened. All I know about that time period is what my friends and family members tell me. Most of the time, I do not want to know. What I do know is that I have many scars from the different types of procedures they performed on me.

I do remember vividly how it felt to wake up from sedation I had been in during my treatments. My family and friends were by my side the whole time. After this, I stayed in the

I.C.U. for about another week or so before being moved on to the floor unit. Being on the floor was much better for me because I had my own room all to myself. I never knew how important even the simplest things were to a person until I woke up one morning wanting an ice cream and could not hold it because I was so weak from being sedated for such a long time. Not only was I too weak to hold an ice cream, I could not write, walk, or even talk properly anymore. I immediately started intensive physical therapy, which consisted of hand and eye coordination motor skills. I will never in my whole life forget the first time I started to walk again. To the normal human being that would be a feat not to worry about, but for me it was like the first time I ever took a step, and I can remember it (unlike people who took their first step as a baby)! The next few weeks were extremely tough, but every day I would walk a little further and talk a little better. Getting out of bed and dressing myself was the next step I had to complete. I was able to master this one pretty quickly.

Before I knew it, the doctors were talking about the possibility of me going home. But before I could go home, we had to make a few alterations to our house so I could receive the proper care that I needed. For example, we had to add a railing so I could climb the stairs when I was strong enough to do so. Finally, the day arrived when the doctors said I could go home. That evening, we loaded the family car with all the stuff in my hospital room and began the half-hour ride home. That evening, I got adjusted to my house and socialized with my family and friends that were there to welcome me home.

The rest of the summer was not much fun. Between the bi-weekly hospital visits and the nurses coming over every morning, I did not have much of a vacation. I continued to have physical therapy for the rest of the summer and into the beginning of my junior year in high school. I could not play football that year since I was still recovering from leukemia. That year was indeed a challenge, not only physically, but mentally as well. I continued to weight train the rest of the school year and into the summer to get ready for football in the fall.

And here I am, finishing up my senior year. I was able to play football, and I earned a captain's position and the Most Valuable Lineman award. My remission is in full swing, and I am nearing the end of my treatments. Changes in your life can come suddenly or over time, but whatever the case may be, you must take the change with an open mind and never think negatively about the ordeal. The changes in my life were indeed significant, and I will never forget them as long as I live.

To the parents of kids with a chronic disease: do not think it's your fault. There is a reason for what happens, and whatever the reason, there is always something good that comes out of it.