T-cell A.L.L.

The next 24 hours was spent anxiously waiting for the results of different tests.  We met Dr. Michelle Vander Heyden in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit, she was the first doctor to see James.  Michelle was young and confident and though we knew we were looking at a form of cancer,  she did not give us a false sense of hope, but her demeanor was somehow calming.

James was very sick, his body was rigid, he ran a fever and was crying a lot. His liver and spleen were inflamed and causing him stomach pain. It had been two weeks since we had first noticed that something was wrong and we were about to get some answers. Michelle told us that James had leukemia and described the disease as being "cancer of the white blood cells". Immature cells called "blasts" multiply in the bone marrow and crowd out the good cells and then infiltrate the organs. Now that we knew that it was leukemia, we had to find out the type and the sub-type.  This would involve more tests, including a bone marrow biopsy, which would involve taking bone marrow from James' femur with a very large needle (a very painful procedure). During the biopsy Kristen and the nurses held James (positioning him on his side on the exam table). He was screaming as they tried to position the needle.  The scene was intense and unbearable for me to watch.  I wanted to stay by James' side and be strong for him as well as Kristen.  I could tell by his screams that he was in agony, he tried to fight but they held him tight.  I told James "It's alright buddy" as I clenched my fists and watched in horror. I wanted to scream, I wanted to save him but I knew that I couldn't. Anger and sadness flooded my body so much that I could no longer watch and slipped out of the room.  I had never been more upset in my life. I sobbed in the hallway until it was all over. 

Hours later Dr. Vander Heyden concluded that James had Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia (A.L.L.) and the sub type was called T-cell. He was considered "high risk" (as opposed to "standard risk") because of his age and his high white blood count. Our first question was survival rate, we wanted to know what percentage of children survive with this type of diagnosis I recall the statistic being somewhere around 70%, however we did not understand that figure was based on a 5 year survival rate. We held on to the 70% hope rate as we began our journey.

Our Baby Boy Is Diagnosed With Cancer

The next day the pediatrician arranged for us to see a specialist in Worcester, MA.  Although we were concerned as to what exactly was going on with Mr. James, we were not panicking. The ride in to the city was nothing more than light hearted conversation  regarding James' condition.  

We arrived at UMass and checked James into the clinic. We were then escorted into the exam room.  Dr. Moriarty began by ordering tests on James' blood work. During the examination he seemed to be paying close attention to his abdomen and to the swollen areas in and around his neck and shoulders. We were both asked a series of unusual questions about our medical histories. Questions seemed to revolve around immune deficiency disorders, as well as HIV. Though there was nothing in our histories that was out of the ordinary, his line of questioning raised our level of concern.  Dr. Moriarty completed the exam and excused himself from the room. 

 Kristen and I discussed our concerns regarding the questions he had asked. We began to wonder what kind of news Dr. Moriarty was going to give us when he returned. The news was devastating. "We are looking for a tumor" he said. My heart pounded, as I didn't want to believe what I had just heard. I felt as though I had just been hit with a baseball bat. My face went flush immediately and I responded with "Do you mean cancer"?!! The answer was a a resounding "yes". We both began to panic.  Kristen began to ask several questions, as if she were trying to change his diagnosis or sway his decision.

 The rest of the conversation was a blur, I just remember a feeling of utter helplessness. I made a phone call to my parents. I broke the news first to my mother.  Her reaction was shock and disbelief,  and she suggested that we get a second opinion.  As anxious and upset as I was, I tried to calm her worries and remind her that we still didn't have all of the details. I asked her to pick the girls up that afternoon from the bus stop, and to have them pack an overnight bag to stay with them.  James would not be going home that night.