Final Test of the Success of the "Abby Treatment"

[Photo Description: Ollie lies in the CT scanner with his feet going in first and his arms above his head.]

Yesterday we finally got those elusive scans following an extra month of "scanxiety" after we had to delay first for a cold and then we got bumped last week because 4 CHEO MRI technicians were out sick last week with COVID-19. This made for a very tense month around our house as we waited for illness to pass and for scan day to finally come..

It didn't help that Ollie's cold was in his sinus and caused eye pain, eye goop (diagnosed as viral conjunctivitis) and headaches, when in the past symptoms of his relapses were eye pain and headaches. 

[Photo Description: Ollie readies to have an IV inserted in his arm]

As always Ollie was amazing at getting through his scans day. Handling the IV insertion like a total pro, drinking the yucky contrast for 3 hours and waiting patiently for his turn.

While waiting and drinking he had a great session with his original child psychologist who is back from mat leave and couldn't believe how well-adjusted and amazing he's doing after everything he's been through. "The rumours really are true, Ollie. You're amazing!", she teased him.

[Photo Description: Dawn wears a mask and bears her arm to show a bandaid after getting her flu shot at CHEO]

I snuck off during his session for a short while to get a flu shot while there because I am a CHEO volunteer for the Oncology Patient and Family Advisory Council (PFAC) and the Research Institute. I had tried to encourage Ollie to be with me later as I took my turn being poked for once, but he had little interest. 

[Photo Description: Ollie is dressed in a hospital gown and pants and wearing a mask with a masked Dawn seated beside him defile waiting for his MRI at CHEO.]

We had to wait a bit for the MRI, so he was getting tired by the time they took us and had to lie still for 1.5 hours while they did full head and body scans. By the end he was getting wiggly and uncomfortable, but he hung in there. As usual I sat on the very hard plastic chair and prayed a lot. Naturally for my Ollie' s wellness, but also for other CHEO warriors like Griffin who was starting his chemo for his stem cell transplant at Sick Kids Hospital yesterday, too. 

[Photo Description: Dawn poses for a selfie wearing her mask and standing in front of a creepy clown painting in CHEO's MRI waiting area. Clearly Dawn is not generally a fan of clowns, with CHEO's now retired therapeutic clown Molly Penny being the exception.]

Totally worth the discomfort and seemingly never-ending wait as we got great news today - CLEAR SCANS!!! No evidence of disease after stopping the miracle drug Lorlatinib 93 days ago that has been our insurance policy against relapse for two years. So now we know definitively that the transplant with Abby's amazing overachieving half match stem cells was a real success! I've pretty much been in tears all night once again over the gift she's given him, and the gifts that God has given us.

This was a huge milestone to pass! There were minor things seen in the scans, like evidence of the sinusitis that he's had for the past month and inflammation still in his left eye that he had surgery on 4 months ago, but all exactly what we would expect to see and they said it was otherwise unremarkable. Unremarkable is amazing news in the cancer world! 😆

Monday we're back at CHEO for bloodwork and checkup, plus his final 3 doses of his childhood re-vaccinations after transplant. We're also sending his blood to Germany again to participate in an Anaplastic Large Cell Lymphoma (ALCL) study and to do the Minimal Residual Disease (MRD) test that can detect if there is any evidence of cancer cells left in his body. If this test is negative like last time, we rejoice. If positive we have decided with his medical team to put him back on the Lorlatinib as we won't take the chance of relapse again. Wish us luck, but honestly we're feeling pretty positive and hopeful right now.

So thank you all for your positivity and prayers. God and science are so unbelievably great and we are divinely blessed. If you could, please send some prayers for Griffin and his mama Tamy for a successful transplant. He's been battling off and on the past 4 years of his almost 6 years of life and deserves to get to true wellness, too. 

Scan and Biopsy Results

[Photo description: Ollie found the free popsicle stash in CHEO's Medical Day Unit (MDU) oncology clinic while waiting between scans and cheekily kept asking if his tongue was blue!]

It was a really long 3 weeks waiting for biopsy results, but in our usual way we found that keeping busy and letting go while letting God worry about it all is best. Thankfully we had plenty of distractions to keep us busy.

[Photo Description: Four of the senior grade classes and some of their parents attend the first in-person school mass at St. George's Parish since the pandemic began in March 2020.]

We've all prayed an awful lot the past few weeks and have heard from so many of you saying that you were praying with and for us, too. It means the world to us to have our incredible army still here sending us light and faith. As it happens we also recently had our first opportunity to actually set foot in our parish for the first time since Abby's confirmation in February 2020. 

Just after Easter and the week after his biopsy, we got a message at home saying that Ollie's was one of four classes attending mass in person and parents of those classes were welcome to come or watch online with the rest of the school. Given Ollie's osteoporosis in his back and hip makes it too hard for him to walk all the way (it's 1.4 km each way from the school and back), his Vision Itinerant teacher had me drive him and met us there. Most students were still masked, all teachers were still masked and Ollie never takes his off, so we felt relatively comfortable doing this. 

[Photo Description: Ollie is in the grey jacket in front of his Vision Itinerant teacher and sitting with his classmates and dear friends during his school's mass.] 

It was both a joy and pretty emotional for me to be back given the last time he had just relapsed in his brain and our journey stretched further ahead of us than behind us like now. Ollie was very reverent and asked to stay and pray a bit extra at the end. I knew he was praying that he was still well and for so many of our CHEO friends who are still fighting. When I drove him back to school he seemed upset and upon further discussion I learned that he'd felt left out that he couldn't yet get communion like his friends. He did his Reconciliation recently, but we're still prepping for First Communion and hope to schedule it before the end of the school year. Yet another reminder of how much he's missed these past 2.5 years, but we're almost caught up!

[Photo Description: Ollie has a blast using Nurse Julie's scanner during his routine CHEO oncology appointment for bloodwork and check up. Julie is incredible with the kids and was wearing a Batman shirt with cape. She laughingly said it was great to work in a place where any day is dress up day!]

We had his routine visit with CHEO Oncology the following Monday. Bloodwork looked good other than slightly higher levels for his liver function (not super concerning and likely attributable to a change in the disagree of his Lorlatinib to 75 mg a few weeks before) and Dr. Abbott looked at the remaining bumps and the stitches from his biopsy and commented that she could see why I had been concerned and felt it was good that we biopsied. She said she would push for results sooner than the 2-3 weeks dermatology had quoted, but knew that all departments across hospital were short-staffed due to COVID.

[Photo Description: Dawn holds up her favourite snacks after donating blood at Canadian Blood Services recently.]

Later that week I went with my "blood buddy" Marie-France to make my 9th blood donation at Canadian Blood Services. It is our ritual now that every 84 days we give blood in Ollie's honour to pay it forward to other families trying to survive what we have. Each and every time I feel grateful to every single selfless person who gave to save my child and know that mine is saving someone's child, too. In just a few weeks I'll pass two milestones...my tenth donation and two solid years of donating every time I have been able (my hemoglobin was too low one time, but otherwise I have given every 84 days). I started when we were waiting for Ollie to get back into remission and I knew that the pandemic was causing dangerously low levels of donations. They told me before his transplant that they couldn't guarantee that there would be blood available if he needed it and I told them just to hook me up and give all of mine to him. I knew they wouldn't do that for real, so I decided to start getting it into the blood bank myself and to try to get more people to help me. 

[Photo Description: A screen capture of Dawn's GiveBlood App showing that so far 16 donations have been made by members of the "Donate for Ollie & Abby" team.]

Given so many people in this province have been sick with COVID in recent months and not donating, there is once again a 25% shortage in the reserve of blood. If you are able or have never tried it but are willing, I encourage you to donate. It's so easy, takes less than an hour and honestly there are so many like Ollie whose lives depend on it being there when they need it. You can even join our team, "Donate for Ollie and Abby" through the "Partners" section of the Give Blood app or when you are online scheduling your donation. 

[Photo description: Ollie washes the van using a power sprayer.]

Ollie enjoyed the recent super warm weather by helping mama wash the van at a DIY car wash. He'd never done it sighted before he went blind and was so excited to hold the pressure washer and feel its power. The entire time he yelled, "Woohoo!" and laughed his head off. Worst actual wash van ever had, but best time doing it!

[Photo Description: Ollie sits on the deck at a table playing Tech Deck finger skateboarding.]

He's also gotten out more with the nice weather, but we are always careful to diligently use sunscreen, have him wear a hat and sit in the shade whenever possible as having had chemo, radiation and a transplant he is more susceptible to getting skin cancer and sadly he also has a Vedic pre-disposition to it as it runs in my family, too. In fact recently I had a sun spot removed by a GP Specialist in Dermatology just in case. After all of this you are so much more aware of every little unusual mark on your body and want to be diligent to get it checked early. 

[Photo Description: Abby's birthday donuts from Suzy Q's that read Happy Birthday.]

Abby's 14th birthday happened recently. Now that she is older they don't really do "parties", but simply hang out, marking the day with simple-gifts and lots of candy it seems. She was happy with that, so while I mourn the loss of her last real years of kid parties, she had a lovely day and was satisfied. 

[Photo description: Abby and Dawn having pedicures at a local spa for Mother's Day/Abby's birthday.]

Abby's birthday fell on Mother's Day this year as it often does, so she and I went for mother daughter pedicures to mark the social day for both of us.

[Photo Description: At CHEO on scans day Ollie holds a cup of orange flavored contrast with a straw in it as he sticks out his tongue making a grossed out face.]

Ollie's scans went well, but it was a long day at CHEO from 9 am arrival to begin driving the contrast and appointments all day until 5 pm. Fighting cancer even when in remission is definitely way harder than any job I've ever done. 

[Photo Description: Ollie spouses his eyes and braces for the buses to remove the first stitches from his shoulder where the biopsies were.]

The hardest part of the day for him ended up being the removal of his biopsy stitches. I had asked at the last minute if someone in the Medical Day Unit (MDU oncology clinic) could possible remove them as they were really bugging him and we didn't have an appointment to see dermatology to remove them until the following week which would be four weeks with them in and they should have been removed after two. Apparently they are using non-dissolving stitches due to supply issues, so one more side effect of COVID and further strain on our hardworking nurses. Kind nurses in the dialysis unit attached to MDU made time to do this for him. Unfortunately it was very stressful and apparently painful for him as the stitches were pretty entrenched by then. With lots of Kids Kicking Cancer power breathing and mama coaching him, he got through it, but there were a lot of tears from a kid who's pretty tough. 

[Photo Description: Ollie lying on the CT bed with his arms reading on a wedge above his head and his hands holding a small stuffed koala bear given to him during treatment by his friends Henry and Dylan. The IV with a coiled cord to the contrast to be injected is in his right arm.]

Although he doesn't like the contrast he's now a complete pro at both drinking the contrast and the injected kind, so had no problem with the insertion of his IV nor drinking a cup of contrast every 30 minutes for 3 hours! 

[Photo Description: Ollie poses with Quickly Koala  while waiting for his next scans in Nuclear Imaging at CHEO. His right arm is covered to protect his IV.]

Before scans and while drinking contrast we had scheduled an in person visit with his child psychologist in MDU and it was a pleasure to finally meet her in person after 10 months of seeing her exclusively online. 

The rest of the time we hung out in MDU's playroom doing crafts with wicki sticks and visiting with MDU staff who happened by. One child life specialist came over to say help and reminded us that she had been a student doing a placement at CHEO in oncology when Ollie was first diagnosed and now works there! She was so pleased to see that he was doing well. Unbelievable that it's now been 2 and a half years since this all began! 

[Photo description: Ollie getting ready to do a drop in at The Yard on his skateboard while instructor Jordan holds his hands until he is ready.]

Ollie missed one week or skateboarding due to the biopsy, but was insistent he was ready to go back the second week. He's progressed so much this year that it's amazing. To see some videos, go check out his Instagram account (cnib_ollies_hope)! Also our episode of AMI-TV's "We Are One" telling Ollie's story and how we all adapted to his blindness airs June 2nd at 8:30 pm. You'll see Ollie starting his skateboarding last fall and be able to compare how he's progressed! Here is the trailer. 

[Photo description: Hope sits on the kitchen wearing her and Ollie's CNIB Pup Crawl bib. Our new LG  SMART stove that can be voice activated and run from an accessible SMART phone so that Ollie can use it in future sits behind her.]

Ollie and Hope are also participating in the CNIB Pup Crawl again this year in memory of his friend Mason's Buddy Dog Queenie who became ill this year and had to unfortunately cross the rainbow bridge long before her time. 

In other developments, our old stove died and was going to cost almost as much as a new one to repair, so we had to get a new one. This is also part of Ollie's story now because we took the opportunity to research and buy a me LG SMART range. This is so that in future as Ollie agrees he will be able to use the active himself because the oven is voice activated with Google Home or Amazon Alexa and you can run it from your SMART phone which one day he'll also have. Since a stove lasts 10-15 years it made sense for us to do this for him to ensure accessibility. Just one more example of what we are learning about how to help him have an accessible life.

[Photo description: Cover of the children's book, "Ollie's Telescope" written by Samantha Smadella and illustrated by Kaitlyn Blanchard, showing a drawing of a bald Ollie standing on a black planet with a black dog beside him looking out into a multicolored universe with many stars and other planets.]

In other exciting news, two sweet Algonquin College Therapeutic Recreation students have written a book based on Ollie's story with cameos of other actual CHEO oncology patients, too. It was their end of the year project and they decided to self publish the book and give all proceeds to Candlighters Childhood Cancer Support Programs. You can pre-order yours here on Sam's Therapeutic Recreation website! 

The story is about Ollie who loves astronomy (creative license taken here so the story arc works better), gets cancer and loses his vision, learns through a therapeutic recreation specialist in hospital that he can still enjoy stars because each has a unique sound, then meets another boy at hospital who used to love skateboarding, but is now wheelchair bound because of his cancer. The boys trade telescope for skateboard so each can learn a new passion that they can still enjoy thanks to accessibility options. Hope makes a cameo in the book (and is on the cover), as does a brave CHEO kid named Sophia who is now a star in the heavens. This book is so positive and deals with cancer effects and death in the most beautiful ways. We are grateful to Sam (whom we met through the Snow Angels for CHEO Campaign this year) and Kaitlyn for their interest in Ollie's story, for making the kids in the story the brave, unstoppable heroes that they really are and for their generosity in donating all proceeds to help other kids like them who are still fighting. 

[Photo description: Ollie celebrates clear scans by viewing out a candle in a brownie.]

Two days after Ollie's scans our amazing oncologist Dr. Lesleigh Abbott called me to report on the scans. I was in the car running errands and as I held my breath she began with, "He's stable with no evidence of disease." Huge breath released. She's so used to this that she even waited for me to breathe before continuing. How difficult her job is when she has to deliver the bad news! I've been there with her and was so grateful for her compassion then, too. 

She also configured that she'd talked to dermatology and pathology about the biopsy results and they were certain that it was NOT any form of cancer or infectious disease. She did say they were still running a few tests to see if they could pinpoint what the spots actually are and they would follow up with us.

She then explained that what minor change there was in his scans just confirmed that they are now identifying his hip deterioration as Avascular Necrosis (AVN), which means that bone tissue is dying due to lack of blood flow. There are various treatments for this and it's not much worse, but we'll know more when we see the bone specialist in June. Also, they can see that his left eye that is still awaiting surgery thanks to the COVID backlog is experiencing more bleeding. So we've sent that off to his opthamalogist and I verified this week that it's been sent to his Retina specialist and next week I begin being more of the "squeaky wheel" to push for the surgery like I did before Christmas for the first. Otherwise all stable in his scans. Praise God for prayers answers once again and our incredible gratitude to all of you who sent us prayers and positivity! We are infinitely blessed.

[Photo description: Ollie lies on the bed of the bone density scanner at CHEO.]

Yesterday we were back at CHEO for bone density scans and xrays for the bone specialist and endocrinologist to take a closer look at in the coming weeks. 

We also had an appointment with Dermatology to follow up on their biopsy findings. They are fairly certain that the spots are leiomyoma.

"A leiomyoma, also known as a fibroid, is a benign smooth muscle tumor that very rarely becomes cancer (0.1%)."

They can be found in various places inside the body, but also on skin. They can be itchy and painful or not (his are not). If not itchy or painful they suggest not taking medication and just monitoring as it can lead to kidney disease. 

There is the genetic kind and random kind (just like cancer) and they'll do a blood test to determine if he had the genetic kind or not. They say it will be monitored through our oncology team from now on. They did say that they've checked all of the meds and treatments in his chart against it to see if there are any known causes, but came up with nothing. I inquired if there might be a correlation between it and his thinning skin in those areas thanks to prolonged use of Dexamethasone because of his relapses. They said they would check.

So just one more thing to monitor. Maybe related to the cancer and maybe not. Grateful it's not something worse, but sure wish results were always more definitive. 

Overall our results are great so we are thrilled and grateful and looking forward to the next steps. We'll share info from the bone specialist next month and tell you how we plan to celebrate his second re-birthday/anniversary of his transplant/second hero day for Abby. Until then, count your blessings, donate blood if you can and be well!

Clearing Scans, Passing Tests and Accessibility Stories

[Photo description: Mario, Abby, Ollie and Dawn pose in their backyard wearing huge smiles and holding Ollie's hands as they surround him with love. Photos were done as part of the annual #PhotosForPhoebe event in support of the Phoebe Rose Rocks Foundation that supported Ollie and family during his stem cell transplant. Photo credit to Anne-Marie Bouchard Photography who donated her time and talent in return for donations to the Phoebe Rose Rocks Foundation]

If you've been hesitant to ask us about the results of scans and waiting for us to share, so sorry to keep you hanging! The MRI got delayed by a week due to someone else's emergency. Ollie was upset by the delay at first, but I reminded him that we got bumped because his scans are just routine and that there have been times when he was the urgent case and we likely bumped other people to accommodate him at those times. 

We did have the CT as planned and the doctor was kind enough to call me after I sent an apologetic email on the third day when we hadn't heard, that I was having bad dreams that she was trying to reach me and couldn't and I couldn't stand not knowing anymore. She called and asked me how I was and I said, "I'm okay." and she teased me saying I obviously was not because she just got my email and knew I was stressing out! 😄 She confirmed that the CT was clear and unchanged from a year ago! That helped to ease my anxiety quite a bit, although I knew that the MRI would scan his brain where most of his persistent relapses have been.

[Photo description: Ollie wears a mask and holds a sprayer from a garden hose on Hope 

who looks unimpressed as he gives her a bath at our local Pet Valu DIY pet wash]

He had his MRI three weeks ago and it was anxiety ridden for both of us. I sat watching for an hour and thirty minutes with no clock in the room, no phone and nothing to do but think and fixate. So I prayed and took a lot of deep breaths. Pretty much for the entire time. I prayed for clear scans and patience and healing for us all. I prayed for our army of kind people who came through for us in every way. I prayed for all families admitted to CHEO at that time including our little friend Isaac who was just starting his last admission upstairs on 4 North. I prayed for every kid we have come to know or have known for too short a time before they were taken too young during our own two year journey. I prayed for those brave kids and their families who unfairly battled the unthinkable and couldn't beat it and I also begged God for those that have made it so far to be well. For their families to know joy and normalcy again. And for my son never to have to ever again face death during my lifetime and well beyond.

[Photo description: Ollie sits at the kitchen table making a homemade 

pepperoni and green olive pizza.]

Ollie was great until they had to put his needle in to inject the contrast. He always hates that part. The technicians were as always terrific, but they did end up having to do extra scans of his back, so that took longer and by the end he was hollering at them to get him out before he lost it. By then he was tired, hungry, frustrated and his ears were hurting from the headphones. I honestly don't know how we did these unsedated before when he was on steroids all the time and was angry and impatient! He is a total wonder!  

[Photo description: Ollie sits building Lego mini figures at CHEO while waiting for his CT scan and drinking the contrast. He has to drink 1 cup every half hour and 4 cups in total, so it is a two hour ordeal.]

We found out two weeks ago during his checkup with Dr. Abbott that the MRI shows there is no evidence of disease, so remains cancer free! Thanks be to God! 

The MRI did still show that some inflammation remains in his optic nerves, and it's been 21 months since he went blind! Thankfully they did get a clearer picture of where the damage is including the detached retina on the left that we already knew about and the tear on the right eye that the retina specialist at The Ottawa Hospital suspected. Ollie also had eye ultrasounds and a check in with this specialist two weeks ago, so this should help him to decide what surgery Ollie will need on his eyes in the coming months to clear out that blood from the detachment and the tear, to fix these issues and stop the growth of the new blood vessels from strangling his eyes. We hope to know more in a few weeks. 

The MRI also shows further deterioration in his lower spine and right hip, but again we are being followed by the endocrinologist and bone specialist who have done other scans this summer and are monitoring this. They'll be sent his MRI and consulted to see if we stay the course or may need to consider treatment (injections) to help increase his bone density. 

[Photo description: Ollie wears a mask, a hospital gown and hospital pants, sitting in CHEO imaging with his white cane while waiting for his latest MRI]

We also did a special blood test called the Minimal Residual Disease (MRD) test. MRD refers to cancer cells remaining after treatment that can't be detected by other scans and tests. These cells have the potential to come back and cause relapse.. I had heard of this through other ALCL parents in the UK and Europe and asked our oncologist to see if we could it, too. As with most medical tests it is not an absolute answer. When looked at in concert with imaging scans like an MRI and CT, it can be a marker for whether additional treatment is needed at this time or not. 

Dr. Abbott as always listened to my request to do this even though it isn't typically done in North America very often or in very many places. She took the information that I gave her about other experts in the U.S., Germany and England who do this, contacted them and arranged for Ollie's sample to be sent to and analyzed in Germany. They agreed to analyze his sample and provide results for free and he became part of an ALCL study there as well. We thought we'd have to pay out of pocket to have the sample couriered to Germany, but Dr. Abbott asked OHIP and they agreed to pay for the sample to be sent! It just reinforces what I've learned over the past two years - if you don't ask, you don't get. 

 

I got a brief call from Dr. Abbott during one of her exceptionally busy days this week and she confirmed that his test result was negative. Meaning no evidence of any remaining cancer cells in his body! This is great news, but as always we remain cautiously optimistic as it is no guarantee that if we did the test again in future it wouldn't be positive. It also causes us to have to think about what we do next as Ollie remains on an ALK inhibitor drug and at some point we need to decide if we take him off and see if the transplant and the drug have been enough to kick cancer out for good, if we stay the course and remain on the drug for the full planned 2 years or potentially reduce his current dosage to see if we can reduce his weight gain, water retention and ease some of the anxiety that the drug sometimes causes for him. 

We have friends in the UK who recently took their child off of the drug and there was a relapse within a few months. That said their chimerism never reached 100% after transplant with an unrelated donor. We also know another family with a child in the U.S.A. whose child went off of the drug 6 months ago after over a year post transplant with an unrelated donor and 100% chimerism and they are doing great. It is so difficult to be making rational decisions without adequate data and case studies to do so. Few understand what it is really like to be making life or death decisions for their child. You'd think we would be getting pretty good at it, but it never gets easier. We'll be having another discussion with Dr. Abbott soon to determine the way forward. As always, we will share more info when we can. 

[Photo description: Ollie stands in front of the skate park at The Yard wearing a mask, a helmet and safety pads while holding his white cane and his skateboard]

In other (less stressful) news, I posted on social media recently about Ollie starting skateboarding lessons at The Yard and how the owner was keen to learn from Calgary's ALT Route accessible skate park project to help find safe ways for Ollie to skateboard, too. Anthony and Jordan at the Yard are good humans who just wanted to help give a blind cancer/stem cell transplant survivor kid a chance to do again what he once loved. 

I'm going to write a separate blog piece on how they're doing this with him soon, so stay tuned! For now you can imagine how happy this makes Ollie and how incredible it is for all involved to see him get back to something he is so passionate and fearless about. 

You should also check out this awesome documentary about ALT Route! 

[Photo description: Ollie and Hope wearing their CNIB gear visit the CNIB Canine Centre and greet an employee with the Canadian Animal Blood Bank.]

Recently Hope became another hero in our family (or perhaps just a bigger one since we already thought she was a hero for all she does to help Ollie) when she donated blood at a clinic organized by the CNIB Guide Dogs team at the CNIB Canine Centre in Carleton Place to help out the Canadian Animal Blood Bank. You never think about dogs needing blood in emergency situations, but they do, too and due to COVID their bank has been nearly empty until donor clinics have once again been allowed. COVID protocols were followed so we didn't get to be with her during her donation, but Miriam and Lucie at the Guide Dogs program were there to help her through it and she was so excited to see them again! She did great, donated an entire pint and is a universal donor! We are so proud of her! She also had a fun puppy playdate after as our fellow Buddy Dog duo Connor and June were also there at the same time. 

[Photo description: Ollie holds his dog whistle while Buddy Dog Hope sits at his feet and Buddy Dog June stands beside her waiting for a command.]

She and Ollie have also been invited to be part of the CNIB's float for the Carleton Place Christmas Parade on November 27th! Ollie is pretty excited about this, especially since it looks like we'll get to meet Ray (Hope's brother) and his handler at the parade! 

Hope and Ollie now have their own Instagram account (@cnib_ollies_hope) where we post shorter updates more frequently if you want to follow along there as well!

[Photo description: Abby sits on the sofa while a boom microphone hovers in front and above her during her interview for the new AMI-TV series We Are One]

We also agreed last spring to share Ollie's story of becoming blind with the Accessible Media Inc. (AMI-TV) team to be profiled in an episode of their new series, We Are One. Originally we were going to shoot it this summer, but COVID as usual delayed things and so we shot it just a couple of weeks ago. Interviews were done with us at home observing COVID protocols as we knew all crew members were double vaccinated. I think that the interviews are among the best and most honest we have ever given. 

 

[Photo description: Ollie and his skateboarding instructor Jordan walk up a ramp in the skate park towards a sign on the wall that reads, "The Yard" while the videographer and sound technician capture the moment.]

Chris Vallee is the host of the show and we "met" him online last spring because his story of overcoming an eating disorder as a teen thanks to a CHEO program was also profiled as part of the 2021 CHEO Telethon which Ollie was also featured in. He put us at ease right away and I felt grateful to have another CHEO success story telling Ollie's. Abby in particular responded so well to Chris. I watched her interview and was moved to tears so many times by the raw honesty that she displayed. As a teen now it's harder to be publicly vulnerable and I had given her permission and warned them that she may opt not to answer some of their questions if she preferred not to. As usual my children's strength left me in awe as she answered every question thoughtfully and purely as her best self. When Abby was done and she'd gone back up to her room to return to her teen life chatting online with friends, both the producer and the sound technician commented on how moving her interview was (and they see a lot of interviews). The crew was awesome and the sound technician later told me how much he loves working for AMI because of the compelling stories they tell and the amazing people he gets to meet like us! 

[Photo description: Ollie is second from the right with the ball while playing road hockey with friends Magnum, Will, James, Elias and Lewis in the school yard. The boom microphone can be seen overhead in the foreground.]

As part of the b-roll (fancy production speak for background images and video that they use as visuals while they use your voice from your interview over them) that we shot we took them to The Yard for one of Ollie' s skateboarding lessons, got some of Ollie's buddies from school together to play a game of road hockey (using his audible ball as he does at school) and they filmed part of one of Ollie's chess lessons with Josh. 

[Photo description: Ollie and Josh play chess masked in his playroom while the videographer and sound technician capture it.]

Abby, Mario and I are all doing well and keeping busy. Flu shots will be done for all of us as of tomorrow when Abby gets hers. It's heartening to see people going out and getting them more eagerly this year as a result of a heightened awareness of the need to take care of each other and trying to keep each other well and staying at work and school. 

As I reflect that on this day two years ago Ollie had his biopsy that would finally reveal what the bump was on November 19th, 2019, I am still brought to tears often by how much our little family has been through. Despite everything we are mostly happy, healthy and together. I am eternally grateful that we've made it thus far and so proud of all of us for working through it.  

Back to School

It's been an eventful few weeks. The kids are back in school and settling in  after many adjustments to being back in person for the first time since the COVID-19 pandemic began. 

 Photo description: Ollie poses with a big smile while holding his white cane on our front porch with his backpack at his feet on his first day of school for 2021-2022.

Ollie was so excited about going back that he woke up at 5:30 am the first day! As I snuggled in his bed with him hoping he'd go back to sleep for at least an hour, he talked to me softly. "Mom?", he said sweetly. "You don't have to worry about me today or be sad that I'm going. I'm so happy that it can't be anything but a great day!" My brave boy reassuring me because he knew how hard that day was going to be for me. Don't get me wrong - I was overjoyed that he was well enough to go back to school, but as with every milestone that we hit on the path to total wellness, it was overwhelming and reminded me of how much we've had to overcome to get to this moment that at times we were uncertain would ever be possible.

Photo description: Ollie and his vision itinerant teacher and educational assistant on the first day back to school in two years since cancer, blindness and stem cell transplant. Photo courtesy of Ollie's principal.

I took him and he was vibrating with excitement. No nervousness or fear at all. As we waited for his educational assistant to meet us we saw many friends who joyfully greeted us, most knowing how momentous this day was for us. They had followed our journey and nurtured us through it with frequent food and gift drop-offs, kind messages of support, financial donations and so many prayers sent our way. I held it together until Ollie and Mrs. Taylor disappeared into the school, then turned around and tears began pouring down my cheeks almost blinding me as I stumbled back down the path to my car. 

Through my tears I saw my friend Angie who is the office manager at school and goes to church with us. We've worked on fundraisers together and over the past two years she's had her own personal challenges, but she was always so supportive of us, even personally delivering things to the house for Ollie from school. She walked towards me with her arms wide open and enveloped me in the best hug as I sobbed. We were both wearing masks and we both felt that this was far more needed in the moment than the COVID caution we usually observe. It was the best hug and I was grateful for the empathy and compassion in it as I let go of so much pent up fear and uncertainty. 

 Photo description: Ollie plays road hockey with friends at lunch recess at school with an audible ball filled with beans. Photo courtesy of his educational assistant.

I don't even care that everyone watched as I had my break down. I deserve that after everything we've been through and endured. They all understood that and stood nearby in support. Many came up to me after to offer words of support and love. How blessed we are to have such an incredible village around us helping us to raise our child! He's doing great and has settled in nicely with few bumps along the way. 

 Photo description: Ollie plays basketball with a close friend at school. Photo courtesy of his educational assistant.

On the first day of school he had a moment of feeling left out as friends went ahead and played like they normally would inadvertently leaving him behind. Fortunately his kind E.A. helped him to problem solve and they went to find someone he could play with. We reminded Ollie that he'd been sick a long time and was now blind and the kids didn't know yet what he COULD do, so he'd need to educate and show them! Since then they play road hockey with his audible hockey ball, basketball with his jingling basketball and soccer with his beeping soccer ball. I've bought every adapted piece of sports equipment there is and they're worth every penny! His friends have been amazing at learning how to accommodate him by calling out who they're passing to so he gets audio cues to follow the ball, too. His teachers tell me how much they're all learning from him about accommodation and inclusivity and how well that will serve them all as they grow up. 

 Photo description: Ollie wearing a red hoodie plays soccer at school with friends using his beeping soccer ball. Photo courtesy of his educational assistant.

During rainy day recesses his friends take turns playing chess with Ollie on his tactile chess set and he delights in teaching them the new moves he's learning. He has a weekly chess lesson from a local young man who quickly rose to the challenge of teaching a blind kid and has gotten excited researching ways to make it easier for Ollie to learn and play. 

 Photo description: Ollie's hands on his tactile chess set to which we have added a Braille grid for him to learn the rank and file positions of the board. The white pieces have a little bump on top in order to distinguish the two colours and the black squares are slightly raised to enable him to distinguish each position on the board. We have one at home and bought another to send to school. You can also play checkers on this board.

Abby didn't start school until two days later and found the transition in the first days a bit overwhelming after 18 months of not having in person daily interactions with those outside of our family. She, too, has gotten more comfortable and happier as time has passed. 

Photo description: Abby poses on our front porch wearing a mask and her backpack on her first day of school for the 2021-2022 school year.

Sending them both back was the right decision despite the risks. We are grateful to both schools and all staff who have helped to make our re-entry a positive one. So far both have been safe, although Ollie did get his first cold post transplant after the first two weeks of school. We kept him home and watched him closely for COVID symptoms. He only had a sore throat and runny nose, so fortunately not COVID symptoms without accompanying fever and cough. I also kind of obsessively checked that he could taste and smell regularly and went in when he was sleeping to check that he had no fever or laboured breathing. We knew that there had been a few cases of colds in his class and that those kids had negative COVID tests, so I just kept breathing deep and reminding myself that if nothing else we've learned to triage symptoms through cancer and not jump to the worst conclusions every time. When the worst you can imagine has already happened to you, you tend to have heightened awareness of when things are normal and when they're not. 

So we booked the first COVID test we could for a few days later just in case, but the day before his test he was bouncing back and feeling better just 4 days in. By day 5 he was back in school and I was thanking God and Abby once again for his new immune system that has now been tested and proven to work well. Naturally from the stress, I got his cold within a few days, too. It's the first illness I've had in the 2 years since his diagnosis. My therapist says that's a good sign that I've let my body relax to the point where I allow myself to get sick. That it means that at least subconsciously my body and brain know that he's no longer in the same danger and that even if I get sick it'll be okay now. I guess I have taken the armour off or at least part of it.

I have been trying to strike a balance between spending time on processing my feelings about everything and getting things important to me done these past few weeks. Each day I spend some time walking Hope, thinking and praying, organizing medical appointments for myself and Ollie and trying to knock a few things off of my lengthy to-do list. After two years, there are so many things we've not had the energy to do around the house and I hope to take care of some of them before I go back to work. 

 Photo description: CNIB Buddy Dog Hope gives Dawn the "side look" while posing for a selfie during a walk along the Ottawa River. A beautiful sunset over a bridge on the river is in the background.

Ollie has CT and MRI scans coming up tomorrow and blood tests in mid-October. These are pre-occupying my mind at present and causing my sleep to be erratic over the past few days. He shows no symptoms, but it's been too long since his last scans and scanxiety is real and hard when you're battling PTSD. This is part of the new "plan" for Ollie that his oncologist and I have puzzled out together because there is no roadmap for relapsed Anaplastic Large Cell Lymphoma. But we are trying to remedy that, too. 

To that end I was asked by Ollie's Toronto oncologist to participate in a meeting last week with a Stanford University researcher and an American oncologist who is an expert in ALCL and head of the Children's Oncology Group (COG) ALCL Committee. We discussed outreach to ALCL parents to encourage them to participate in an ALCL relapse study. It's early days and will be a longer term project, but I am proud to have been consulted and cannot help but feel that it is a good step towards collecting information that could help to standardize relapse treatments in future. I am grateful to my ALCL parent friends around the world who are also raising awareness so that together we may make a difference for other ALCL families and spare them some of the fear of not knowing how to treat this in future. This makes me feel like all of the agony that we have endured may at least result in better outcomes for kids like Ollie in future. I am grateful to play a small part in positive change.

Ollie had a consult with the retina specialist at The Ottawa Hospital a couple of weeks ago. Turns out the retina specialist is married to Ollie's incredibly kind and brilliant radiologist so he already knew all about Ollie and our story. After examining Ollie he told us that he can see that blood has pooled behind each of his eyes. On the left side likely because of the retina detachment and on the right likely due to a small tear. He still has slight peripheral vision in that eye, although the blood is making it more difficult to see anything. The blood will need to be removed through a surgery. In addition there are new abnormal blood vessels growing (Neovascularization) that need to be stopped through a laser surgery. 

 Photo description: Ollie's eyes are examined by Dr. Dollin at The Ottawa Hospital Eye Institute.

He felt that even if we'd caught the retina detachment earlier he'd still have a very low chance of recovering any vision in his left eye given the extensive damage and with the passage of time due to COVID backlogs, there is no chance of re-attaching and seeing anything now. The pressure in his left eye is twice as high as it should be, so we need to reduce that and have been given eye drops that he takes twice a day for this. 

Essentially we need to keep his eyes healthy so that he can keep them both. That's the real goal now and if we can clean up/repair the right eye to keep any peripheral vision/light that he has, that's our hope. He also intends to consult with his glaucoma specialist colleague as he feels we may want to consider using some of their techniques to help Ollie.  The next step is that he has an ultrasound on his eyes in October 15th followed by a follow-up with the retina specialist. At this point they'll have a clearer picture and actual recommendations to move forward.

To be honest I was disappointed that it wasn't better news. Although I have accepted Ollie's blindness and didn't honestly expect any significant improvements in his vision, I had hoped re-attachment was the way we'd go to preserve the eyes. Ollie had a different viewpoint about the appointment, though. He said it was a good appointment and when I asked why he said, "They didn't say there was nothing they could do, Mom. Doing something and keeping my eyes is way better than them saying there's nothing they could do!" As always my brave, wise beyond his years boy surprises me with his hope and positivity. And if he can be okay with it, so can I. 

On the philanthropic front, Ollie participated in his school's annual Terry Fox Run/Walk recently. He told us he was walking for all of the friends that he had at CHEO who were still battling cancer. Most of his school friends and a few at other schools were walking for Ollie. I got the most heartwarming photos from parents we know of their kids wearing their Walk stickers which say, "I'm running/walking for:" and where they'd written "Ollie". So thanks to the incredible Terry Fox, my boy is continuing his legacy by inspiring others to keep raising money for cancer research. Giving and kindness are cycles we are so glad to be part of.

 Photo description: Ollie wearing a mask doing the Terry Fox Walk with his white cane in the school's neighborhood. Photo courtesy of his educational assistant.

I was also pleased to do a testimonial for the Department of Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada last week for the Government of Canada Charitable Workplace Campaign (GCWCC). My friend Allison, with whom I used to work at Treasury Board asked me if I might speak at their event and highlight some of the many charitable organizations that have helped us. I was glad to have the opportunity to encourage others to give to so many worthy organizations and to do my part to remind public servants why we give - because it was our family this time, but could happen to anyone. You never expect to need the support of your community in this way, but are so grateful to have it when you need it. My testimonial seems to have been well received, although the Deputy Minister and Assistant Deputy Minister noted how emotional they found it and I can understand that as I am totally honest and open about it. By the end of doing these I typically feel like I have an emotional hangover. Why do it then, you might ask? Because someone needs to and because it is part of my healing process to get it all out and to try to create a legacy of good coming out of it all. And I'm tired of the stigma that we must hide away our feelings of sadness and anxiety. Why is it okay for so many to display anger openly these days over their disagreement with COVID restrictions and mandates, but still not okay for the rest of us to share genuine human emotion that may actually evoke the empathy that we so desperately need in the world right now?! And I always try to share my honest feelings including the incredible gratitude and wonder that we've felt over our son's survival and the kindness we have been shown constantly. I'll keep doing it as long as I keep getting asked and feel it may make a positive difference in the world.

We were thrilled to hear that Pfizer had submitted data to Health Canada this week as a precursor to their request for authorization of the COVID-19 vaccine for children ages 5-11. Ollie asks me daily if there's any news. He's waiting impatiently to get his vaccines as he knows it will be a game changer for us and finally allow us to live as normal a life as possible without the constant fear that he will get COVID and be seriously ill or worse. He desperately wants to be able to have regular playdates and attend birthday parties like a normal kid. To go out in public without us trying to keep him away from other people. To be able to hug people (still with masks on for a while no doubt) without fear. I want that for all of us, too. We're hopeful that before Christmas he'll have at least two doses and that maybe we can even see family and our closest friends then. We owe them all the biggest hugs after doing so much to help us save Ollie these past two years.

So wish us luck and send us your prayers for clear scans this week and good blood tests later this month. We'll update you when we can. In the meantime, have a happy Thanksgiving, but please be safe if you are seeing family and keep your gatherings smaller than normal to reduce the risk of COVID numbers increasing drastically after the holiday. 

Forever changed or scarred?

I didn't want to steal Ollie's thunder with a post the same day as his and as usual his words were fewer,  but more powerful than any of mine could be.

Nevertheless, I want to share some thoughts and observations to mark one year since Ollie was diagnosed with Anaplastic Large Cell Lymphoma ALK Positive. 

I didn't sleep much last night. I kept thinking about last year on the same night. We'd been to CHEO the morning of the 18th for a one week post-op follow up after his biopsy. Dr. McCormick the pediatric specialist that we'd been seeing in the Ear, Nose and Throat Clinic that we'd been seeing to that point. She was very apologetic that she didn't have results yet and said she was pushing for them. She told us if she called us and told us it was just the relative of Tuberculosis they suspected it was, we'd just keep taking the medicine Ollie had already been started on. If it was more complicated she'd ask us to come in to meet. 

By the time we got home from CHEO on November 18, 2019 her office had called and asked us to be there the next morning at 7:30 before her first surgery. We knew this was bad news.

After a year, every moment of that day remains vivid in my mind. You'd think I'd try to repress it, but given I've always been the type to deal with hard things head on and try to learn from them, I guess it is natural that I'd remember. And I guess you'll always be able to recall the day that your whole life and outlook changes, and when your priorities truly crystallize.

I remember being very scared at first and then numb as we waited the two hours to see the oncology team. So much information came at us and overwhelmed us, despite the doctors speaking slowly and kindly and giving us opportunities to ask questions. I remember my main moment of being choked up came when they were talking to us about the possible side effects of chemotherapy. 

They told us he may be infertile and never have children of his own. My eyes welled up with tears as I struggled with that. Mario being a man didn't really get it and reminded me, "But he'll be alive!". I told him I knew that, but as his mama I was imagining him falling in love one day and having to tell his partner that he may never be able to have a child of his own with them. That he may never have the overwhelming joy of welcoming his own baby into the world at the moment of their birth. That his love may reject him as a life partner one day because of this. 

The doctor was a mama and in fact was pregnant with her second as she sat there with tears in her eyes and firmly told me, "If he wants to be a father when the time comes, he will be. There are other ways." 

Later that day I picked Abby up from school and told her about her brother. One of the many hard moments of the past year. In her despair when I told her she sobbed, "But I don't even have a spare! He's the only one I've got!" I assured her that while I had multiple "spare" siblings if that had happened to any of mine, the fact that I had backups wouldn't have made it easier. Coincidentally later that evening when she'd calmed down and we could tell her what treatment and next steps would look like, one of the first things she asked was whether he'd still be able to have children. She wanted to know if he'd be a daddy and if she'd ever be an auntie. Like mama, like daughter. 

I feel like I have an emotional hangover today. I've gotten that a lot over the past year. 

Abby's sad today thinking about all that's happened in the past year and how much her own friends got her through when she was most sad or afraid. She's wishing today that she could be with them and hugging them for all of the emotional support they gave her. But instead we're home avoiding COVID-19. What a year.

We talk a lot about the beauty of adoption now. Without saying so, we're prepping Ollie for the long road. After chemo and radiation it's highly unlikely that he'll ever have his own genetic child, but then again, I'm on various Facebook groups for caregivers and survivors of cancer and bone marrow transplants and I'm often shocked by the stories of those just like Ollie who miraculously went on to have them. If Ollie's taught us anything this year, it's not to count him out or assume he'll be typical. Always atypical. 

A year ago they told us it would likely be 6-8 months of treatment with 6 rounds of chemo. I stupidly thought we could plan for the 6 rounds of chemo and 8 months worst case scenario. That if that's what we expected, anything better than that was a bonus. Now even after a year when he's been through so much and still rang the bell a couple of weeks before the year was over, I think we were lucky. Because now I know and understand how bad it can get and that it can get even worse than we had it. And Ollie had it bad and things didn't look good for a while.

Still others we have met this year have fought for years to get their child well. And some fought and went home forever without their babies. I am forever changed by the bravery and resilience I have witnessed in all of these families. 

Cancer is so far reaching it honestly breaks my heart in two sometimes. I spoke with someone today I've gotten to know a bit who's helping with Ollie's various needs and she confided that it's personal for her to help him because she lost her young husband a decade ago when he fought it. And I saw our friend and former neighbour at the pharmacy while picking up meds today. As a teen they lived next door with their mama when we first moved here. The mama passed a few years ago from cancer, but they always ask about Ollie and reminded me today that the ache of losing someone you love to cancer never really goes away. It just becomes your new normal after cancer. 

With the help of CHEO staff and to honour Ollie's journey and this anniversary, we did a little thing at CHEO where we sent some treats and a message of hope to 4 North. It's a little way that we are paying your love and support from this journey forward. I'd just like to thank Jenn at Sew Happy Masks for helping us do an homage to Llama Llama Blue Pajamas and to her cousin Natalie for the CHEO cookies, as well as Ray and the team at Gabriel Pizza for feeding the staff and sending some Ollie's Pizza love for all families currently admitted in oncology. Ollie got to be the tester of all goodies. LOL

Thankfully after a year of hell, our boy was blessed with survival and aside from a bit of an off day today, he's doing great. He still has a long road ahead. Next week a respiratory test and in a few weeks another MRI, specifically in his hip where he has reduced bone density from treatments and prolonged use of high dose steroids. His whole life from now on he'll always be followed for side effects of his treatments and possible relapse or secondary cancers. 

It's this that keeps me from feeling completely happy and victorious. Will we ever be completely happy and carefree again with this always looming in the background?! Unlikely, but we're sure going to try. Ollie's happily ever after depends on it. He says he is the same even blind, but he's not the same post-cancer. He's a more cautious, thoughtful, less carefree and fearless boy than he was a year ago. We're all forever changed. How could we not be?! 

I know many of you have also told me his journey has changed you in some positive way or that he's inspired you. That's what has made it all bearable...that he has helped others, even as he suffered things a child should never have to. And that you hung in there with us a whole year, even when we know it was sometimes hard to read about our agony. Our adopted family motto extends to all of you, "We fight as one!" and now we all have to fight to be happy, despite cancer, COVID-19 or anything else threatening our happiness. It's too precious to give up easily.

I'm not done blogging yet. I feel that so little is shared about the post-treatment period and yet, so far from a mental health perspective, so much happens in it. Maybe I won't be able to stop blogging until I write that book so many of you are telling me to write...either way, Thanks for sticking with us. Big love to all of you!