I am well aware that my writing on this site usually happens when I am stressed about some aspect of my health and asking for prayers.  While it took me a while to write after my Houston trip, I m please to report that everything went as well as can be.  Th doctor even cancelled my last appointment telling me that I was dong fine.  No leukemia, no prostate cancer, my lungs and heart seem to been doing well.  Thank you for your prayers.  I can’t imagine why else I am still around.

Today I am writing for the opposite reason. On June 2, 2011, thirteen years ago today just before 5:00 pm my life changed forever when I got that phone call telling me I have leukemia.  There is no doubt that the suppport and prayers (and the best in the world medical care) I got saved my life.  So much had to come together for me to be heard today. Dr. Durabi and the great Sanford nurses carried me through the first two months. Ed and Jeannie and Sanford Health got me to Houston so I could get a stem cell transplant from who I now know is the best doctor in the world.  I have had so many doctors in the last thirteen years look at my chart and ask me if I am aware that my doctor is Dr. Richard Champlin.  And I smile and say I do know.  One more domino that just fell into place to let me survive.  Patty slept next to me in my hospital room for three months. I got dozens of cards willing me to live. Every break turned my way.  I never got sick in those months.  My sisters both had perfectly matching stems cells.  My cells engrafted just like they were supposed to. My friends covered for me at work, others totally cleaned, repainted, and refloored my entire house so I could come home to a germ free house.  My mom sat, mostly in silence, next to me in my room for hours a day not believing her son could die.  I know how hard it was on her now.  Sadly she has dementia and doesn’t know who I am.  But she knows she sat with me for those months.  I can only imagine the stress of that time burned into her mind more than anything else in her life.  Then the transplant started messing with my heart and yet again a doctor told me that I didn’t have much time left.  Until God sent Dr. Pritzker who somehow put together a miracle cure.  I sat in his office one February day in 2018 and he told me I should expect a life expectancy of up to 4 years.  18 months later, I sat in his office and he told me that I was the first patient he had ever seen get better after getting this disease.  I never used to think I was a lucky person.  I do now.  

I have told this story several times, but the message that hit me hardest was one that simply said “My wish to you is that someday you wake up and your first thought isn’t about cancer.”  When I first read that I couldn’t image that could ever come true.  But this morning I woke up and then about 11:30 when I looked at my phone and “June 2, 2024” read on its face, I remembered for the first time today my battle.  I never want to forget but I am happy that it wasn’t the first thing I thought of when I woke up.  So thanks to everyone who has gotten me this far.  Thanks for your prayers when I need them most and thanks to God for keeping me around.

For at least this year, I think 13 is gong to be my lucky number.