Final Pill Video

Here is a video of Alex taking his final pill.

We are so proud of him!!!

742 Days

Seven hundred and forty-two days - that is how long Alex battled cancer. Tonight, Alex took his final pills, and we sang "No More Chemo For You" to the tune of "Happy Birthday".

I'm so proud of our family and friends, for all the support we have received over the last 742 days. I am so grateful for the organizations who helped our family through this war.

The war is over. Alex won, although, it won't be "official" until he hits 5 years post treatment. But, to us - the pills, the fevers, the unknown, the endless battle is done.

I will post some video of the final pills tomorrow. I am emotionally drained, and ready for bed.

Tomorrow we start a new chapter. Life AFTER cancer!

Go to hell cancer...go to hell....

Last Days of Chemo

I have had a really hard time starting this post. I'm not exactly sure why...I mean, we are almost done. Alex had his last IV Chemo on Wednesday, and will swallow his last pills this Monday night.

Eric and I both went with Alex to this last appointment. We took the Tram with a full sheet cake box full of six (yes, 6) batches of triple chocolate brownies for the clinic staff, nurses, and doctors who have taken such good care of Alex these past two years.

Everyone was awesome and the tale of the "mountain" of brownies spread quickly. All the doctors who had taken care of Alex came in to see him off. Then, the nurses sang an "End-Of-Chemo" song to the tune of "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain". Then, they gave Alex a great Buzz Lightyear Walkie-Talkie set. Alex hid in my arms as the nurses sang, then was crazy silly again (that's what happens when you let him eat Brownies for breakfast).

I thought I would cry tears of joy, I thought I would be so emotional, but the truth is, I will see all of these people in 6 weeks for Alex's first blood check-up, post treatment. I guess it still doesn't seem real.

Alex will have a pre-op appointment soon to prepare to take out his Port. Then, on December 6th, he will be given "sleepy milk" one last time, and they will remove his Port. He wants to keep it, and asked me "will it be all slimy?". I told him I thought they would clean it up before they gave it to him.

We went out tonight, and selected a box for Alex to keep his Port in. He picked a nice mahogany colored jewelry box. He said he will save all his very special things in it.

Last night, Alex and I talked for a long time about his Port being removed. He is really nervous about it.

"How are they going to get my blood?"

I told him they will use a needle in his arm, just like he has seen Mommy and Daddy do it when we donate blood. His face turned ashen, and his eyes welled up with tears.

"Is it going to hurt?"

I told him we would use the same numbing cream on his arms that we used on the Port.

"I don't want that again, it hurt."

I looked at him a bit confused, as I watched tears roll down his face.

"Honey, does it hurt when you get your Port accessed?"

He said it didn't, and then frustrated, walked over to his toy basket, and my heart sank. He pulled out the arm restraint that he had when he was first admitted to the Pediatic ICU, when he had an IV, and then his PICC line.

"When I wore THIS, mommy! This really hurt, I don't want to do that again!"

The PICC line was the temporary IV in his upper arm, that had to be kept dry at all times, or the IV nurses would need to change the dressing. Since he wasn't even four years old yet, that proved difficult, and it had to be changed a lot. It hit me then, that he remembered that night just as vividly as we do. He remembers the night his life changed too.

"Oh honey, you aren't getting a new PICC line, and they won't be leaving the needle in. They will do a quick poke, draw the blood, and then pull out the needle right away."

That seemed to make him pause a moment, and then he looked me right in the eyes and said something that still makes me cry when I think about it.

"Mommy, if the cancer comes back, I don't want a PICC line, it hurt. I just want a Port."

I had no words at first.

Then, I looked him right back, and said that I didn't think his cancer was coming back. And, if it did, I would demand that he get a Port immediately - no PICC line for him.

This is one promise I hope to never have to fulfill.

Another Worry Gone...

We had Alex's counts checked today to see if he was responding to the increase in his Mercaptapurine dosage. His counts were down to 2,800 - so headed in the right direction. They decided not to adjust his dosage for these final 18 days.

While we were there, I asked about the results from the blood tests to check for precocious puberty. I was relieved to hear that Alex's hormone levels were exactly where they should be for a boy his age.

So, we just need to get him in the shower and wash his face more often - that sounds like a prescription I can handle!

No Worries About the Recall

I just got a call back from Doerenbecher. They have never used that manufacturer for their Methotrexate, and so Alex is NOT at risk, and they DO use filter needles to draw up all their solutions, so a safe-guard has been in place.

Let me say it all with you....

Whew....

One less thing to worry about!

Methotrexate Recall

I just wanted to give everyone a quick update - we are not sure yet if any of the recalled lots were used in Alex's spinal fluid. It's hard to get a hold of anyone at Doerenbecher. I'm sure they are just inundated with phone calls this morning.

Launi, another cancer mommy, calmed my fears a bit when she received information that the standard protocol is to use "filter" needles when drawing up the solution. So, until we know if one of the lots was used in Alex, and the filter size vs. the shard size, we don't have any more to report.

I'll be there in person on Wednesday for Alex's counts check. If I don't hear by then, I won't be leaving until I get an answer...

Worries

With less than 24 days to go, you would think I would be over-joyed at the thought of finishing Chemo. I should be - however, it turns out I most likely am suffering from some variation of Post Traumatic Stress over this ordeal, so all logic goes out the window...

Anyhow, it's Friday night, all the doctors and clinics are closed, and both of my lovely children are in bed. I sat down to read a friends blog, only to find that one of the drugs injected into Alex's spine - INTO HIS BRAIN has been recalled for GLASS SHARDS in the solution.

Yes, I have the lot numbers, but that won't do me a bit of good between now and Monday morning, when EVERY parent of a Leukemia or Lymphoma patient will be calling the hospital to see if GLASS SHARDS were injected into their child's BRAIN. Even if we find that one of the vials in the recalled lots was used - what can we do? Just hope it doesn't lodge itself into his spinal column, and irritate the lining, causing motor problems - or worse? What would a glass shard do to blood vessels in the brain?!?! It's not like you can just change the fluid like at Jiffy Lube. Once it is in there, it's in there for good.

Here are a few links about the recall:

FDA: Methotrexate Recall

Sandoz Initiates Voluntary Recall

We go to the clinic on Wednesday to get check his blood counts. It may take that long to find out whether any of Alex's back pokes used this tainted Chemo.

If cancer wasn't enough to worry about...

I'm going to bed.

28 Days 11 hours

In 28 days and 11 hours, I will give Alex his very last dose of Chemo - his very last steroid pill.

We are exhausted - and so is he.

A Post I Hope Never To Write

I have written about Gage on here before. He is a 9 year old who has been battling cancer for six years.

While our blog has a countdown to Alex's last Chemo dose, that counter has now taken on new meaning for me.

By the time Alex finishes Chemo, Gage's life will be finished as well - his body cannot continue to fight. The cancer has spread, and there is nothing left to do.

His parents pain is so raw in their most recent journal entry. All we can do is hope for Gage to suffer as little as possible.

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/gage

Cancer Sucks.

The End Is Near

7:30 am

"Sara...hello...where is everyone?"

"Snort...huh...oh, NO!"

...and thus we started our day, woken out of a dead sleep by my Mom, who came to watch Tessa while I took Alex to his 8:30am appointment.

I jumped out of bed, got some breakfast in the kids, and Alex and I headed up the hill to get his monthly dose of poison injected into his veins.

Alex has had a cough, and had been so tired the last few days, that I wasn't sure what to expect with his counts. They came in at 3,400 - WAY too high again. So, our doctor notched Alex's Mercaptapurine dose up, and started to talk to us about end-of-treatment.

Before we could begin, I wanted to bring up an issue that was really concerning me and Eric. Alex had developed what seemed like classic teenage acne all over his cheeks. We also were noticing quite a stench in his bedroom (teenage boy stench). I did some research on the issue, and discovered that precocious puberty is a possibility for children treated for cancer at such a young age. Precocious puberty means that his body hits puberty MUCH too early, and can stunt growth, and can have other complications.

Now, don't everyone freak out on me here. He didn't have radiation to the brain, so this could just be that Alex is a stinky kid, who needs to shower every single day... (smile)

The doctor examined Alex and ordered some additional blood tests to check for abnormal hormone levels. We should have the results in a few days. If he does have this, well, it will be a breeze compared to cancer. He would just be on hormone suppressing medicine, until it was the "normal" time for him to hit puberty.

So, back to end-of-treatment issues. Alex will have his final dose of Vincristine on 11/17/2010. His final pill will be a steroid pill on 11/23/2010. I guess we go out with a BANG! He will get his Port out soon after, but will continue to have blood draws once a month for the next 12 months. Then, it will go to once every 3 months, then every 6 months, then every year.

For the rest of his life.

In three months, we will stop the doses of Septra each weekend. In six months, his body should be fully recovered from the Chemo, and we can "catch him up" on his immunizations.

This was an aggressive cancer, and if it was to come back, it most likely would be "relatively quickly" (whatever that means). What they DO know is that they DON'T know if it will return. We hope he will be one of the 80-90% who are cured for good. Every month that he has a clean bill of health, we will be one month closer to "cured". I asked "when can we start using that 'c' word, you know, 'cured'?" Our doctor wasn't sure if it was 5 years from diagnosis, or 5 years from end of treatment. She was going to get back to me with the answer. I'll let you all know.

Either way, the end of active cancer treatment is approaching quickly. The ripples from his treatment will continue on for years...

I guess we truly never will be done with cancer.

I just want cancer to be done with Alex.

PS - to read more about precocious puberty, click HERE.

Light the Night and the End of Treatment

Wow.

Just Wow.

Over 50 people walked with us in honor of Alex. Over 50 people held red balloons to signify their support of our amazing little man. Thank you, does not begin to do justice to the gratitude I feel for all our Warriors 4 Alex - both here and afar.

I am humbled by the generosity of the people who donated their time, and their money to help us support the science that is so desperately looking for a cure for this vile disease. Our team has raised over $9,300 to date, and we hope to break the $10,000 mark before January 31, 2011.

As you may have already read in my previous post, we are on the countdown to the end of treatment for Alex. Our final Chemo day is scheduled for November 19th, 2010. Exactly two years and nine days after diagnosis. Those first few days are still so raw. I tear up thinking about them (even while on Prozac). Our little boy has been so strong, and has grown so much in spite of the intensive treatment, and disruption to his life.

Cancer has been the most horrific thing I have ever dealt with. I'm sure Eric would say the same. Even so, to be perfectly honest, the Chemo and doctor appointments have become the norm, and the idea of stopping cold-turkey on November 19th scares me to death.

These next 36 days are going to be challenging. While I hate the poison that is pumped into our son, there is comfort in knowing that we are actively fighting the cancer. We are waging war daily, with hopes that the cancer cannot gain critical ground. Once we sign the peace treaty with his body, and halt all warfare, who is to say that cancer will not begin an all-out assault once our guard is down?

I can tell you that every time Alex has a swollen lymph node, I will not sleep until cancer is ruled out. I will be THAT mom, pestering the doctors for a CT scan "just to be sure". Every breath will be held until the routine blood test results are returned.

Every time.

For the rest of my life.

And I am SO grateful for the opportunity to worry. It means my son is alive. It means treatment worked. It means I have a son who I can hold, talk to, hug, and watch grow into the fantastic young man I know he will be. It means that my daughter will have a big brother to grow up with.

Not every parent is that lucky. For every ten parents sitting in the waiting room up at the hospital, two of them will have their hearts torn open as they watch their children succumb to a blood cancer. They will sit there, watching as my son gets better, while their child fades in front of their very eyes.

We need a cure.

Please click the link on the right side of this blog, and donate $5 or $10 to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Help us fund research that will someday make blood cancers 100% curable.

Good News

November 19, 2010 will be Alex's last day of Chemo - more info to come - hip hip hooray!!!!

The Latest...

We had Alex's monthly Chemo appointment on Wednesday. Alex had a bit of a cold, and there was talk about holding off on his Lumbar Puncture for another month - due to an increased risk of aspiration while under heavy sedation.

Alex won the anesthesiologist over with his clear lungs, and incredible enthusiasm for his "sleepy milk" (the stuff they inject into his port to put him out).

So, he received his dose of poison to the brain, and poison in his veins, and got to miss a day of school.

We watched him closely for a fever, which never materialized. We were confident that even if he spiked on that evening, that we wouldn't have to go to the Emergency Department, since his ANC was 3,800! - WAY too high, but would keep him out of the In-Patient ward.

So, we are now back on steroids, and have had tears, and defiance, tender moments and back-talk...the roller coaster goes for another round. Today, I heard from Alex's kindergarten teacher that he was in tears, and just about inconsolable at the bus today to go home. By the time I saw him 20 minutes later he was happy. Two minutes after that, he was crying again...poor guy...

I can't wait until this ride comes to a full and complete stop, so we can get off, and find our balance again.

Warriors 4 Alex Video

When Alex was diagnosed with cancer - our world collapsed. With the help of organizations like the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, and the research they fund, our son has an 80-90% chance of a cure. Please consider donating to our team, to help keep the research going.

http://pages.lightthenight.org/or/PortlndL10/SWilkison

It's Not Fair

Yes, I know...life isn't fair. But why does cancer have to hit so hard below the belt?

One of the boys that we met at Camp Agape in 2009 is loosing his battle with his third recurrence of Ewings Sarcoma - a vicious cancer. In the middle of fighting those battles, he also fought (and won!) a battle with AML (a leukemia brought on my the treatment for Ewings).

His battle has been fierce, starting at age 3. Now at age 9, his parents have just signed the paperwork for Hospice care. The agony in their hearts is palpable through the computer monitor, as I read their words with a face drenched in tears.

I do not know their family well, gleaning most of my familiarity through their heart-felt words in his CaringBridge website. But, our hearts are connected through the love of our children, and the terror of fighting the wretched disease.

This heartbreaking update to Gage's condition comes in the same week as news of another amazing kid from our 2009 Camp Agape trip, suffered a relapse himself. I'm sure his family is gearing up for their next cancer battle.

My heart is breaking for both Gage and Josh's families.

As we near the end of Alex's active treatment, I am reminded that we will never fully escape cancer's grasp. The fear of relapse will always be in this mother's heart. I can push it down, I can shove it to the side, but I will never be rid of it.

Ever.

Quick Update

Alex had his Chemo appointment today. His ANC was 2,000 - which is too high!

So, they are upping his Methotrexate and will re-check in two weeks. If his counts can handle the increase in Methotrexate, they will attempt to bump up the dreaded Mercaptapurine dose too.

The roller coaster isn't over yet! I fear I hear the "click click click" as we climb the hill for another run...

Onward...

Another Visit and a Realization

We went back up the hill to get Alex's counts checked again last Wednesday. The ANC was 1,100 - which is right where they want it. There was some talk about possibly adjusting the chemo again in two weeks, if his counts creep up.

This is the stressful part for me, because it's more of a guessing game at this point. I was very comfortable when there was a dosage plan, and everything fell right in line with the protocol (you know, the one with the 80-90% cure rate...). Now, things are more fluid - and while I hate poisoning Alex every night - we know we are doing it in order to reach that cure. While I get it that we have to play with the chemo dosage to find the best fit, I'm terrified that we aren't hitting the cancer cells hard enough... The Oncology mantra in this day in age is "poison them to the brink of death - then pull them back".

I attended a talk by an Oncology doctor, who works closely with Alex's main doctors. He told me something that I hadn't really realized before...

Every day, everyone creates cancer cells, and every day, most people's bodies seek and destroy those cells. Alex's body didn't recognize these cancer cells, and they were left to multiply - doubling every 24 to 48 hours. So the really scary part is that, while I am confident that we will beat the hell out of these cancer cells, what happens if his body makes these cells again sometime in his lifetime?

I came to realize that cancer is truly an autoimmune problem. Alex's body doesn't know to fight off these cells - although it fights off other enemies all the time (bacterial and viral infections to name a few). I was encouraged to hear about all the research to teach our bodies how to recognize the cancer as a threat, and destroy it. Right now, we obliterate the immune system in the effort to kill the cancer - sacrificing the one thing that might be the answer to curing cancer.

It's hard to wrap my head around this - and I'm glad that we have so many dedicated doctors and researchers working for a cure.

Wouldn't it be amazing if Alex's generation was the very last one to use poison to combat the disease????

Crazy Counts

Yesterday, we had Alex's clinic appointment for Vincristine, and to check his counts. His ANC was only 600 - which is 150 below where they want them.

Good grief - we just can't seem to get the exact "mix" of chemo he needs...

In the meantime, it's lots of hand washing, and trying to keep him away from anyone who is sick (yah, right...)

So, the plan is to continue ahead with Steroids this week, and then check counts again in two weeks. From there, the doctors will determine whether to adjust his dosage again or "stay the course".

Speaking (or typing) of Steroids, they have hit hard in this house already. Only 4 more days to go...

We can do it - right?

Steroids and Sleep

Alex is on the lovely steroids this week. He is grazing all day in the pantry and refrigerator. I'm so glad that he likes fruits and vegetables, because this kid is eating non-stop! Cheese stick, after cheese stick...then on to peaches, and plums, carrots, crackers, left-over fried chicken, apple sauce, yogurt, fish sticks, scalloped potatoes, spinach, cheerios, raisins, peanut butter, juice, water... you get the idea.

He was so excited to go play with friends today, and then promptly fell asleep in the car before we got to our destination. I carried him inside to the couch, and he slept from 1:30 to 4pm. I think his counts are crashing down from the height of his fever. I hope they only come down to the "acceptable" range of 750 - 1,500.

We aren't scheduled to go back into clinic until the end of July - so I've got all fingers and toes crossed that he stays fever-free between now and then. We dodged one hospital admission bullet - I doubt we would be that lucky twice...

Clinic Update

We went to Clinic today, and Alex got his beloved "sleepy milk", and a dose of Methotrexate into his spinal fluid and brain. He also received his Vincristine through his Port, and we get to start the steroids tonight.

He still has a fever, and if it is still there at 6pm, we may need to go back to the ED for additional antibiotics.

His ANC was 6,500 today - the doctor (not our normal one) even asked me if I had missed doses of his Chemo. I said "absolutely not"! He said, "not even one?" - I guess I felt a bit insulted. This is my child, and we are making sure we give him his poison EVERY day. This is a fight for his life - not something Eric or I are quick to forget...

Anyway, the counts are "too high"...but that just may be from a possible infection (hence, the fever, with no other symptoms). So, we jump through another set of hurdles that cancer has put in our way.

Hey, if I stretch my neck out, and squint my eyes, I can just about see the light at the end of this obstacle course....

Dodging a Bullet

We got to the ED at 5pm. By 6:30, the labs were back, and Alex's ANC is 5,300! So, we get to go home, and come back tomorrow for his regular Chemo appointment.

We are all so relieved!

Blasted Fever

100.7

The nurse said to call back in one hour - if the fever is the same or higher, it's off to the Emergency Department (ED) we go.

He is hot to the touch, and has no other symptoms...not a good sign...more info to come in an hour

No Fever

Alex woke up in a good mood with no fever, so we'll just keep watching him, to make sure he's ok...

Sleeping at the Dinner Table

Alex fell asleep again at the dinner table at 6pm tonight. My "worry" radar is up, and I'm concerned that he is either getting sick, or his counts are dropping again...

I hope it is just the innocent exhaustion of a 5 year old boy who played with his buddies today, and just wore himself out.

I wonder.

Will I ever get to shake the worry of the chemo and cancer side effects? Even once the cancer is just a ghostly nightmare, separated from my son by time, and healing?

Kyron Horman

Hello everyone, this little boy in the picture here disappeared from his elementary school less than 20 miles from our home. His name is Kyron Horman, and he is only 7 years old. I'm posting his picture here on my blog in an effort to "spread the word" on his disappearance. It is the least I can do.

I cannot fathom the pain that his family is going through. It makes me realize just how "lucky" we are.

Lucky? Cancer? Am I reading the right blog?

Yes.

We get to wake our children up every morning. (Sometimes, they wake us)

They get to play with their friends and each other during the day.

We get to read them stories, and give them kisses and hugs goodnight.

They get to go to bed knowing how much they are loved.

We get to teach them lessons on integrity, and honesty.

They get to teach us lessons on how to remain joyful, and experience the wonder of a new world every day.

We get to watch them learn new things - constantly.

They get to experience the pride of their accomplishments.

We have the opportunity to try and rid our son's body of this cancer.

Our children get to grow up into amazing human beings - in spite of this cancer.

We get to tell them both how much we love them - all the time.

They get to tell us the same.

We get to be together as a family - every day.

Our family, and so much of our community is on "high alert" looking for Kyron. We hope that his family can wrap their arms around him soon, and enjoy a simple "I love you" with their precious boy.

Please take a moment to look at Kyron's picture, and if you have even the "slightest" feeling that you have seen this boy, please call the tip line 503-261-2847. For more information, click HERE

Counts Update...Again

Alex had his ANC checked today. We are stable at 1000, so we are staying the course for another two weeks. We'll evaluate his counts at his next Chemo appointment. Alex is quite excited for that one, since he will get his beloved "sleepy milk"...and a lumbar puncture to throw more poison into his brain...

Silence Is Golden...

It has been quite a while since I have posted on this blog (about a month, give or take a day). After the last blog entry, we were able to release 4 weeks of built-up stress and worry about a relapse and/or a secondary cancer.

I cannot begin to tell you the level of relief we felt. I gave myself some time to just "live in the moment"; that Alex was only battling one cancer, and that a relapse was not an immediate concern.

During the past month, Alex has been on a 50% dosage for his oral Chemo, and even with the reduced potency, Alex's body still had to battle fatigue, and discomfort. Eric and I had to readjust to the "Chemo-normal" behavior - which can be anywhere from cranky to clingy, and everything in-between.

Today, we went back to the clinic to check Alex's counts, and to give him his monthly dose of Vincristine. Good News. His ANC was 1,000 - right in the middle of acceptable range. The doctors decided to bump up Alex's Mercaptapurine dosage a bit over the next month, to see if they can squeeze in any additional poison without sending Alex's counts plunging towards zero.

Since the success rate for his Chemo protocol of 80-90% cure for first-time diagnosis is based on full Chemo dosages, I very much want to see Alex's treatment follow the protocol as best as we can. A 50% dosage just doesn't seem "aggressive" enough - especially after getting a taste of what a relapse/secondary cancer scare is like.

So, in two weeks, we will go back to the clinic for a counts check to see what this higher dosage is doing to Alex's counts.

In the meantime, we will give our son his nightly poison, and hope that the higher dose is tolerated.

If you don't hear much from us in the next two weeks, it probably means that our "normal Chemo" routine is back, and there is nothing really to report. You have heard it all before...the steroid rages, the regressed emotional state, the exhaustion, and manic behavior.

Please remember, that my "quiet time" with the blog, is really just us living our lives with the strength of all of you - our friends and family holding us together. It means there is no crises, and that we are not up against any new problems.

Really.

In this case, our silence IS golden, and we are basking in the warm glow - with fingers and toes crossed...

A Post By My Mom...

I thought I'd clarify for everyone what 2400 means. It's an ANC measurement, or Absolute Neutrophil Count, an indicator of how many white blood cells Alex's body is producing. In the case of T-cell lymphoma, the doctors want to see his ANC counts in the range of 750 to 1200, which is MUCH lower than normal. If his ANC drops below 750, then he is susceptible to infection, and it can be life-threatening. If it is higher than 1200, then that is an indicator that perhaps the chemo drug is not working properly to kill 'bad' white cells, which is what lymphoma is - a rapidly growing number of cancerous white cells. In Alex's case, the type of white cells are T-cells that are involved in normal immune response. Normal T cells assist in killing off infections, but cancerous T-cells do not do that.

The drug Alex has been taking daily for the last 6 months or so is called mercaptopurine, and it is one of the drugs responsible for the 80 to 90% success rate in lymphoma and leukemia patients. Mercaptopurine kills white cells (T-cells in Alex's case) - both good and bad ones, so it's important to get the dose right to keep enough white cells around to fight infection, but not so little drug that the cancerous white cells have a chance to grow. However, Alex seemed to be 'hypersensitive' to mercaptopurine, and for the past 4 weeks his ANC counts were anywhere from 300 to 500, below the required threshhold of 750. During these past 4 weeks he hadn't been taking any mercaptopurine, which means that not taking the drug could have allowed the 'bad' white cells to grow. Last week his count was 500, but the docs decided to wait one more week without the drug to see if his body would start producing good white cells again. We had been concerned because he'd gone 4 weeks without mercaptopurine, but his white cells counts were too low to start taking it again.

Today we had good news: his ANC count went up to 2400. If his counts had come in below 750, the docs would have done a bone marrow aspiration to see if any 'bad' white cells had invaded the marrow. Cancerous white cells in the marrow can grow and outnumber good white cells that are produced there, causing leukemia. When he was first diagnosed, there were no cancerous white cells in his bone marrow, so we were all holding our breath until today's ANC count.

The count of 2400 means his body had started producing white cells, but 2400 is too high, because some of those cells could be cancerous. The docs immediately put him back on mercaptopurine, but at 50% the normal dose. That will continue for a month to see if they can keep the correct ANC range between 750 and 1200.

Much of the trick with managing chemo is getting the dose right: you want to kill 'bad' white cells, but keep enough good white cells around to fight off other types of infection. So, we never want to see a number that is too low or too high, other than in a case like this one which was 'Why are his ANCs staying so low for so many weeks?' We want that ANC range to be between 750 and 1200.

Research is being conducted in clinical trial on the use of immunotherapy drugs, which target cancer cells only, rather than chemotherapy ,which kills ALL rapidly dividing cells both good ones and bad ones. Chemo has such harsh side-effects (hair loss, joint pain, and more), and I'd sure like to see immunotherapy being used in place of chemo. But, Alex's doctors chose chemo because this particular protocol has good outcomes.

Alex is a brave little boy, and we are so proud of how he handles these nasty drugs and their side effects. I remain confident that he will beat this terrible disease.

Diana (Sara's mom)

2400

Complete relief...more soon....

Update on Alex

Hello Everyone,

Yesterday, Alex had a Clinic appointment to see if his counts have come up yet. For the 4th week, with no Chemo - they have still not recovered. The doctors are giving it another week, and if his blood counts don't come up, they will be doing a bone marrow aspiration to see if the cancer has spread to his bone marrow, which would in a sense, be a whole new cancer - Leukemia.

I keep holding onto the hope that since they didn't order the test immediately, that it is just a precaution, and that Alex's body is just taking it's own sweet time to regenerate the blood cells. He has had great energy, despite his low counts, and we are hoping that points away from Leukemia.

So, I'm really not up to talking about it much, since we don't really know anything - we are just in limbo this week...We haven't talked to Alex about it, since we don't have any concrete information.

Thanks for all your support of my amazing boy this year. I hope to have good news to share next week...

A Strong Boy

When we started this process...this journey through cancer hell, I told myself, and heard people tell me "Alex is such a strong boy, he'll make it through this!".

This cancer path we have traveled has been filled with children. Boys and girls, all fighting for their very lives. At times, the path is congested with those all racing towards their cure. Other times, the path is drenched with the tears of those whose children have lost their way, and will never return. And sometimes the road is silent. The shock of a new diagnosis or relapse is just too much to even utter a moan of sorrow.

I have learned that *all* of these children are strong. Strength is something every single child stricken with this vile disease has ten-fold. A strong child does not automatically mean they will beat this disease. A strong child does not automatically mean that they will not relapse. A strong child does not automatically mean that you won't have to say good-bye too soon.

My heart is aching for the parents who hear "Oh, your child is so strong, he will beat this!" echoing in the back of their minds, as they hold their son's hand in hospice, whispering to their boy's cancer-riddled body, that he is loved, and "good-bye". I follow the stories of many of the families that we have met through our battle with cancer. Many of these stories will not have happy endings.

Alex is just as strong as those children, and yet, they are dying. They won't get to see their next birthday, while Alex is celebrating his next week.

I don't take his birthday lightly. I am so grateful to the doctors who are helping my son be part of the survival statistics.

I know we are all looking to find hope, and words of encouragement to give each other in these times. Just remember the power of those words, and how they can turn to such great sorrow in a heartbeat.

Sleepy Alex

I'm sitting next to Alex who is asleep (well, unconscious) next to me. We had a clinic appointment today, and he had a Lumbar Puncture (LP) to inject more Methotrexate into his spinal fluid, and ultimately, his brain.

He *loves* the "sleepy-milk", which is what he calls the anesthesia medicine that the doctors inject into his Port. It puts him under quickly, leaving him limp in my arms within seconds of receiving the concoction.

His counts were down again today. His ANC was only 400. Low enough to stop his Mercaptapurine for the week. He *did* receive his Vincristine in his Port, and will start the Prednisone (steroid) this evening.

The doctors aren't sure why Alex's counts continue to drop at the 100% protocol, so next week, after checking counts again, they will put him on lower amounts, and *ever* so slowly increase the dose over 3 months. They aren't sure if he will be able to get to 100%. That really scares me, since the highest success rates for this protocol are at the 100% dosage levels. It is a true balancing act, and the doctors are doing everything they can to get him the most Chemo without reducing his counts to levels that risk his life.

My heart is aching for him. His little body has endured so much! I worry that with his counts so low, that he will get sick before his birthday party. Since his diagnosis, his birthdays have taken on even more meaning to me. "Take THAT cancer - we made it another year!"

He is sill out cold - it always takes him so long to "come out" of the sedation. I better go now, and see if I can wake my brave boy.

Light The Night 2010 - The Video

I just finished working on a video for our Warriors 4 Alex team.

I hope you enjoy!

By the way, this is what has kept me so busy, and not updating the blog.

Alex is doing well, counts last time were 3,400 - so they increased his Chemo to 100% again. Actually, they increased his Methotrexate by 1/2 a pill per week. The genetic test was normal, so we really don't know why his counts keep dropping. The doctors will have to keep playing with the doses...

I'll update more soon - I promise!

Counts Update

Sorry to be silent for so long - we have been busy celebrating Tessa-Lynn's 2nd birthday. We are so happy that Alex was out of the hospital, and well enough to enjoy the celebrations!

So, on February 16th (my sister's birthday!), Alex and I headed up the hill for a counts check. The results were quite unexpected (at least for me!) His ANC was 8,900. Yes, you read that right. 8,900 - up from 100 in just one week.

Dr. Stork came in and told us "boy, his body really likes being off Chemo!" She could see I was worried that his counts were so volatile. She assured me that with him coming off of Chemo for a week, finishing his steroid cycle, and recovering from a virus probably count for a hug piece of the shift in counts.

She decided to put him back on 75% of Chemo - and not check again for 3 weeks - at his "normal" Chemo appointment.

At this point, we have given up trying to understand how his body is reacting to these poisons, and we have to trust the doctors.

We will hopefully find out the results of the genetic testing at the next appointment. I'm just glad we are back fighting this cancer...

A Lock of Hair

Today, Alex got his hair cut. OK...what's the big deal?

The big deal is that this is his first haircut since September of 2008. The first haircut since he lost all his hair to this dreaded disease...

I kept a lock of it - just like his very first haircut...to remind me of this new stage of life, and what that newly grown in hair means...hope for a long life, with many haircuts, without cancer.

Home At Last

We'll be laying low the next few days - but we are home, together. It sure is nice...

Cleared To Go Home

Eric called. The docs said Alex's ANC is starting to rise *slowly* BUT, enough that they are sending us home later today! I am so relieved!!!!!!

I'm heading back up to the hospital now, to relieve Eric so he can get to some phone meetings. Tessa will be hanging out with Grandma Diana & Grandpa Bob this afternoon until we all come home together!

Morning Update

No fever last night - so, we are over 12 hours into the required 48 before Alex can come home. We also need to see his ANC rising too...

Let's go Bone Marrow, Let's go!

Monday Update

Yesterday Alex fell asleep at 4:30 - and soaked his bed with sweat. Dinnertime came and went, he slept right through it. Finally, and 10pm, I closed my computer, and put my head on my hospital grade pillow, pulling the thin blanket over my exhausted body. Moments later, the CNA rushed in to take Alex's vitals, and change his sheets, waking him up *completely*. My heavy eyelids could barely register my boy who was now bouncing on the bed - asking for his dinner.

I dragged myself up, and got his dinner. Then, I set up a movie for him, and crawled back to bed. Happy he was fever-free, but too tired to jump up and down about it.

Every 10 minutes, he needed something - "I need to pee", "Mom, the movie stopped", "Mom, I want another movie". It finally registered in my sleepy brain, that he wanted me to play with him - he was bored, and wide awake.

We hung out on the hospital bed for a while - then, I started to feel the heat coming off of his body again. His cheeks were flush, and he complained that he was tired. I called in the nurse, and the temperature was 101.3 at 2am. The nurse got him some Tylenol, and both Alex and I drifted off into a dead sleep.

We woke up this morning about 8am. A doctor came in, telling me that Alex couldn't eat today before his spinal tap. I said "nooooooo - he only gets a spinal tap every three months, and he had it only 4 weeks ago". The doctor double checked, and we were cleared to order breakfast.

We got word that the flu swab came back negative, which means Eric and I can leave the room to go to the cafeteria, but Alex's counts are still only 72, so he cannot leave the room.

Our window is showing nothing but blue sky. Alex just wants to go outside and play - it is just breaking my heart!

So, essentially nothing has changed - except that Alex doesn't have a fever this morning (crossing fingers and toes), so the clock has started again on 48 hours. Also, his ANC will need to show a marked improvement before they will let us all leave.

I am falling asleep as I write this, so I will say good-bye for now, and go take a quick nap...if Alex lets me!

Fever Returns

101.3 at 2am...

Sleepy Boy

Alex has been asleep since about 4:30 - he is soaking wet, sweating like crazy. He has hardley eaten anything, all day...I hope this fever is really breaking this time.

Fever Back Again

101.0 - clock stops...

Morning Update

I'm back at the hospital - and Eric gave me an update of what was going while I was gone. So, here we go.

About one this morning, Alex's fever returned - 101.2. Another dose of Tylenol was given, and his fever hasn't returned since (crossing fingers and toes).

Around seven this morning, the nurse noticed that Alex's heart rate was a little low, and they hooked him up to an EKG to monitor his heart rate. The test came back normal. Then, a little later, someone came in asking about a respiratory treatment, which had the nurse and Eric confused. After further research, it was determined that there is another Alex with almost the same last name on the same floor on the other wing, and the treatment was for him. Needless to say, both boys now have big red flags on their accounts to double check the last name...

We got Alex's ANC results from last night, which were only 60 - yes only 60 - so no improvement there yet - ugh.

The doctors came in, and said the first swab came back negative (respiratory infection), and we are now waiting for the flu swab results, which won't come back until tomorrow. So, we are all still quarantined to the room for at least another day.

They are still planning on going forward with Alex's Vincristine Chemo and Steroids tomorrow. We are on hold again for the Methotrexate and Mercaptapurine. Alex's blood work to check for the gene that might be messing with his metabolism rates of the Mercaptapurine will be sent out tomorrow, and takes a few weeks to come back (unlike on TV, where genetic testing takes only hours). Our team of doctors will be meeting on Monday to discuss dose changes for Alex to make sure that we keep these life saving drugs running through his veins, without it causing dramatic drops in his counts.

So, what we know is that we are stuck here for the next 48 hours, his counts haven't improved yet, and we aren't sure what is causing the ANC to stay so low.

I also know it is a great day to go outside and play - please step outside and breath some nice fresh air for Alex - he can only gaze at the day through his hospital window...

Possible Good News...

Eric is staying with Alex tonight at the hospital, so I could come home and have some much needed "Tessa time" with my baby girl. My friend Taegen brought over dinner, so all I had to do was play with Tessa, and read lots of stories to her...so nice. I am so thankful for my friends, and my Mom - I don't know how we would do all this without them!

Eric called during dinner to say that Alex had fallen asleep, and was soaking wet - but not hot. We are both hoping that means that his fever has broken, and the clock can start ticking to getting out of the hospital. I don't know anything about his ANC figures today - they were scheduled to collect them in the evening. We'll probably know in the morning.

I have so much I want to do here at home tonight, but what I really need is some sleep. I think I'll follow my baby girl, and go to bed here shortly.

Fever Still Here

101.9 - the clock just stopped on going home. He has to be fever free for 48 hours + negative blood cultures - this room is getting smaller and smaller....

It took three of us to get Alex's nasal swab. I sat Alex in between my legs, and wrapped my legs around his, then held his head with both hands. Eric held Alex's hands, and the nurse took the swab.

He cried and cried - so did I.

Monday At The Earliest

We met with the doctors, and per the protocol, we are here until at least Monday - Alex's counts need to show improvement, and he has to be fever free for 48 hours, with negative blood cultures (for bacterial infection).

His doctor feels that this is just a cold virus taking advantage of Alex's system - however, the strict protocols are in place for any possible flu.

While we are frustrated by our imprisonment, we truly understand why the procedures are in place. We know how quickly these kids can have a benign cold turn lethal.

I need to be more vigilant with the hand-sanitizer - keeping a bottle in my purse again - and encouraging even more hand-washing. I just hate putting him in an isolation "bubble" when he "feels" great - and has good energy - I have to remember that the amazing energetic boy is fighting such a hard battle, and sometimes we need to protect him a bit more when his counts are low. It sounds so easy, right?

I'm not going to beat myself up over this. I am trying to give our son the most "normal" life while wrestling with his cancer, and the side effects of the poison being injected and ingested into his little body.

So we welcome ourselves back to the hotel Doerenbecher - check out isn't until Monday at the earliest.

Frustration

We just heard from the nurse that the flu test won't even be sent out until tomorrow, so they will need a new swab today. The first swab is being used to do a respritory infection test, so at least it wasn't wasted. The *swab* involves driving a wire up his nose, with a *tiny* piece of cotton on the end - it hurts.

It. will. not. be. pretty.

So, that means we are quarantined for all of today and at least all of tomorrow - I'm hoping to talk to the doctors about it when they do rounds this morning...maybe they will have a more definitive idea of what we are dealing with...

Fever Back

103.8 - I have nothing else to say right now.

Quarantined & Bad Dreams

The doctors took some chest X-rays last night. Alex has a cough, and it is getting a bit more pronounced as we have been going through the night. I believe the doctors said his X-rays were clear, but it was almost one in the morning when we finally got to our room, so I could be remembering wrong. I'll get clarification this morning, during rounds.

The nurse did a nose swab to check for flu. Alex was brave, but it hurt, and he cried. My heart, as broken as it already is, cracked a little deeper with those tears.

We started to battle about his bed adjustments (head/feet, up/down) -and then I realized that he was just trying to gain some little piece of control of his situation. I told him - "you adjust the bed any way you want, honey". It seems to be adjusted just as it was when he was first admitted back in November 2008...but this early in the morning, I could be hallucinating too.

The doctor last night told us that because they did the nose swab, *both* of us are quarantined to his room. If I leave his room, I have to leave the hospital - I can't even go to the cafeteria, or even the family kitchen here on the ward. Room 14 of 10 South is our new home for the next few days. When Eric comes today, he'll be quarantined in here too, until the lab results come back on the flu. I personally don't think it's the flu, but then again, I don't have an MD - so we'll see.

I'm now stuffy, and getting a cough too. The two of us are quite the pair this morning.

Alex is on fluids, and didn't go to sleep until almost 2am. That spelled bathroom accident at 3am...I'm glad I remembered extra underwear and pj's in my distraught packing last night.

Every time he moaned, or mumbled in his sleep, I was awake at his side. Since this happened a lot, I am quite sleepy this morning. Sleep deprivation plus a hospital room equals bad dreams for mommy. I'm sitting here, well aware that it was just a dream, but the ugliness of that dream is still oozing off my exhausted ego. I tried to write the dream down, and the details are fading faster than I can type - although the emotions are still strong.

Alex woke up at his normal time, and is now watching the first of what is promising to be WAY to much TV this weekend. At least it's the Penguins of Madagascar - I need a laugh myself...

Getting Admitted

Alex is getting admitted to the hospital tonight. His ANC was only 100. It will be at LEAST 48 hours before we can go home. All chemo is put on hold again too.

I'll say it again - cancer SUCKS!

103.5

We got to the hospital, and Alex's fever was up to 103.5 - and he seems even warmer now...

I'm still waiting for his counts - that will determine whether he gets admitted or not...

Alex is just about in tears when he asks if we have to stay - all I can tell him is "I'm not sure yet buddy..."

Updates as soon as I know...

101.1 fever

I'm calling the doctor now to see if we need to go in...

I have the sniffles too - so it's probably a cold - but with his ANC at only 800, we'll see if he gets admitted - I'll keep you updated...

Counts Up Again

Alex had his counts checked again today. His ANC is now up to 800. It is still low enough that they want to keep him at 50% dosage rates.

We will have his regular Chemo appointment next Monday, and will check counts again to see if they can increase the dosage.

Maintenance dosage is quite the dance!

Alex is feeling well, although, he is getting tired quicker since re-starting Chemo (which is to be expected).

Next week, steroids. Excellent...

Counts Up!

Whew,

Alex's counts were up to 749.7 - they need to be at 750 at the minimum to restart Chemo.

The doctors rounded up, and we were instructed to start 50% dosage for Alex's Chemo this week. Next week, we'll check again, to see if we can go up to 75%.

Light The Night 2010

Last night, I was very honored to go to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's Light the Night awards reception for 2009. Our team, Warriors 4 Alex earned over $3,000 last year, and we were recognized last night along with a number of other wonderful teams; all doing their part to help rid the world of blood cancer.

But not just blood cancer.

One of the most successful cancer drugs for Leukemia patients, was developed here in Oregon - with huge support from the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS). That drug is now being studied for brain cancers, and rare stomach cancers. It makes what they are doing all that more important. Not only that, but LLS has funded research that has discovered a toe-nail fungus cream that obliterates some forms of cancer in lab mice! A toe-nail fungus cream, people!

The highlight of the reception was the speech made by the 14 year old boy who was the "honored hero" for the Light the Night Walk here in Oregon. He was articulate, he was gentle, and he was empathetic. He has been cancer-free for over 9 years. I cried as I listened to him talk about his journey, and how he continues to do the Light the Night Walk in honor of those who are still battling the disease, and those who have lost the fight. Through my tears my vision blurred and I saw Alex up there, at age 14 - MUCH taller than me, and healthy. It did my heart some good to think about it. His Mother spoke about his diagnosis, and treatment. While the details were different, the common thread was there, weaving through her story. The idea that it only takes a moment to bring us to our knees - to make our heart stop, and for the oxygen to leave the room.

I left the reception feeling good, and energized about what LLS is doing to help people like Alex - and knowing that I was helping with that mission by raising money.

If you would like to join our team, or donate money to our team, please click the HERE to go to our 2010 Light the Night Team page.

Off Chemo - Low Counts - Again!

Alex had his weekly counts check, and his ANC is actually LOWER than last week - AND he's been off Chemo for a week!?!? His ANC was only 300 - still in the danger zone. I'm really worried that he will get a fever, and wind up back in the hospital.

Alex's counts should be in the 750 - 1500 range while on the maintenance phase of his Chemo regiment. Because his numbers are so low, he is off Chemo completely this week, and the doctors want to re-check his counts next Monday. If they are still low, after two weeks off treatment, they will perform a genetic enzyme test to see if Alex is one of the really rare cases where his body just doesn't metabolize the Mercaptapurine Chemo; essentially allowing it to continuously obliterate his immune system, instead of just regulated blasts once a day.

If Alex *is* a carrier for that gene, then they will have to adjust the protocol. I'm scared of that, since this protocol has an 80 - 90% cure rate.

Right now, that is all we know. We just have to wait and see what his body does this next week. I try not to think about the fact that if he doesn't have this enzyme issue, then his body will have been Chemo free for two weeks - and so has his cancer...

We are torn between keeping him home, where we can control his environment more, and letting him go to school each day where he can be a normal kid, but also allowing him to be potentially exposed to the normally benign cold/flu/stomach bugs that for Alex would put him in the hospital. I am so grateful that Alex's class has been so conscientious about letting me know if a child is sick, and adhering so rigorously to the school sick policy - it sure makes us feel better about our decision to let him go to school!

Tonight, Alex fell asleep at 7:45 - really early for him - especially off treatment. I *really* hope he isn't getting sick...

Saturdays

I have been told I have an interesting perspective when looking at time. Some call it unique - others shake their heads and roll their eyes.

I divide my life into Saturdays.

Silly? Yes. Effective and grounding? Absolutely.

Weeks seem to go so fast, and the weekends - those precious two days that I get to spend with my kids and husband all together - seem to fly by at break-neck speed. Weekends are when we plan to get stuff done that we couldn't do during the week. They are the default days to catch-up, to say "Oh, drat - I'll do it this weekend". So, I count Saturdays to help me digest time.

For instance, there are only 49 more Saturdays to get all my Christmas shopping done. Only five more Saturdays until my baby girl turns two. Alex turns five in only 14 more Saturdays. You get the idea.

My friend Erin asked me how many Saturdays until we are done with treatment. I hadn't even thought about it before that moment.

Cancer seemed never-ending, and something that I couldn't even divide into Saturdays. It's something that we deal with every day. There is no "I'll deal with Chemo this weekend", we are forced to battle this disease EVERY DAY.

So, I took a moment and looked it up. There are only 61 more Saturdays until Alex is projected to finish his Chemotherapy. How exciting! But, wait - I decided to break it up even more. Only 15 more steroid cycles. Only 15 more IV Chemo pushes. Only five more back pokes.

Wow. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel tonight for the first time. It's faint, but it's there if I squint a little. Every Saturday takes us one step closer to the end of treatment. We still have about 430 days left of oral Chemo, but being able to count Saturdays until he is done really helps put it all in perspective for me.

Thank you for the reminder Erin. It really helped!

The Routine

Predictably, Alex is wiped out tonight. It always happens at this point in the medication cycle. His tummy hurts, and he is exhausted. It has become "routine".

It stinks.

During the day, he works so hard to be normal, and just play and "be" a 4.5 year old. All that fun just takes it out of him in the evening.

With his counts low, he has a double whammy this week.

I'm signing off so I can go snuggle with him on the couch, and try and make the stomach pain go away...wish me luck.

Cancer Sucks

Grammie Gale got a new tattoo. This one speaks for itself...

Low Counts And A Back Poke

Today was Alex's monthly appointment, and quarterly back poke. We left the house on time, and rode the tram up to the hospital. We ran into Taylor, Alex's Chemo Pal on the way up to the clinic. Alex was shy, and goofy, but got interested in her bag of goodies and the "Build-A-Bear" that she had pretty quickly.

Alex was a champ at getting his Port accessed, and we quickly received word that his ANC was only 400 - still really low. So, we are off of the Mercaptapurine Chemo this week. We were, however, green-lighted for the steroids (Prednisone) and the Lumbar Puncture to push the Chemo drug Methotrexate into his spinal fluid.

Alex was quite excited about the "sleepy milk", which is the medication called Propofol, which puts him under during the procedure. After his body went limp, I put him on the procedure table, and went outside the room to wait. The procedure went quickly, but Alex waking up is another story. That kid can sleep, and sleep! When he finally woke up, he was my goofy boy, all the way to the cafeteria, where he proceeded to eat just about everything I put in front of him!

After the clinic visit, and lunch at the cafeteria, we headed for Alex's school. He was clingy for a few minutes, and then was just fine, and enjoyed his school day.

We have to be careful since his counts are low, that he doesn't get sick. A fever right now would land him in the hospital for at least 48 hours. We are doing lots of hand washing, and hand sanitizer right now, hoping that his counts rise while off the Mercaptapurine, so we can get him back on this life-saving Chemo drug.

We go back in for a counts check next Tuesday to see which way his counts are trending. Up, baby, up!

Make-A-Wish Trip - Day 6

Saturday, October 31, 2009

I woke up on Halloween morning with Alex at the hospital. I ordered breakfast over the phone, and we waited, and waited, and waited. After one hour, I called down to the cafeteria to see what the problem was. They said that since we were in quarantine, they couldn't bring the food to our room (unlike the day before?!?!), and the food was delivered 1/2 hour earlier to the nurses station. Really? Great.

I walked the 20 or so steps from Alex's hospital room to the nurses station. There was Alex's breakfast, just sitting there. Powdered eggs congealing, pancakes turning to rubber, bacon wilting. The nurses (especially the one who was sitting directly in front of the food) said, "huh, sorry about that!" Hmmm, for a kid that could possibly have a bacterial infection, giving him luke-warm food that has been sitting out on the counter in a hospital didn't seem like such a great idea, but then again, I'm not a professional. Good grief!

Eric arrived shortly after Alex finished his new hot breakfast, and we started the waiting game. We had to wait to make sure that his counts were improving, so that our 6 hour pass would be granted.

Finally, around noon, a doctor had us come outside the hospital room to talk. My stomach dropped, thinking Alex's counts weren't good enough for the pass. Thankfully, I was wrong. The doctor just didn't want to put on all the infectious disease control garments to give us the news. We were getting the pass. The doctor choked up, and got tears in his eyes as he gave us the news. He said he sees a lot of Wish kids come through the hospital, and it isn't very often that he can give the pass. We were so relieved.

We came back inside the room and told Alex we were going to get out for a while, but that we had to come back that night. He was so excited, I'm not sure how much he actually heard. We were all so anxious to go trick-or-treating, but we had to wait - until nearly 3pm for them to let us leave, and head for the Magic Kingdom.

Here is a blog entry about our day: Trick Or Treat!

Alex & Eric on the Buzz Lightyear Ride

Alex getting on his costume

Look! Candy!

Tessa-Lynn playing in Micky's Toontown

Alex & Eric soaring over the Magic Kingdom on Astro Orbiter during the fireworks

After the fun was over, Alex was quite sad to have to leave everyone, and head back to the hospital with Eric. We told him we would see him the next day, and that we hoped he would be coming home. We were right!

Next: Day 7 - Back to Give Kids The World, and Good-bye to Grandma Diana and Grandpa Bob

Alex on TV

A few weeks before Christmas, Make-A-Wish asked us if we would mind getting interviewed again for the Believe campaign with Macy's. Of course, we said "yes" - anything to help out the amazing organization that helped make Alex's wish come true!

I'm not a fan of this viewer, but it was the only way to get the footage. The clip of Alexander is the first one on the bottom left side of the viewer - with the red background. Click on it, and the video should play. Don't forget to hit the stop button after his interview, or the player will continue to the next segment.