Danny Norris’s Road to Recovery
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My Dad is a Humble Man
By Lauren Norris
I threw on a pair of jeans, grabbed my keys, and ran out the door.
On the drive to MedStar St. Mary’s Hospital from my apartment in Baltimore, the last words I heard on the phone with my dad were playing in my head on repeat. He called me because he was disoriented, confused, and waiting in the Emergency Department after having a CT scan at the recommendation of his doctor. I urged him to stop someone in the hallway and ask them what was going on. When he did, the frantic radiology tech reported, “We think you’re having a stroke.” That’s all I could hear on my 90-minute drive. “We think you’re having a stroke.”
When I arrived at the hospital nurses stopped me at the entrance to take my temperature and ensure I had a mask - it was March 26, 2020, the very beginning of what we now know as the COVID-19 pandemic. After being cleared I walked in and went up to the hospital bed in dad’s room and grabbed his hand. I asked what was going on, and through tear filled eyes he shared that the CT scan had revealed a mass in his brain. We cried together.
The doctors and nurses had already prepared dad’s transfer to MedStar Georgetown University Hospital where he underwent a craniotomy the following day. It revealed a soft tumor in his right frontal lobe. About two weeks later dad was diagnosed with Primary CNS Diffuse Large B Cell Lymphoma and the day after his diagnosis he began his first chemotherapy treatment.
The next several months were a blur. While we (and the rest of the world) were living through and attempting to navigate a global pandemic, dad was spending weeks at a time in the hospital for treatment.
After 10 long weeks of rigorous chemotherapy at MedStar Georgetown, the tumor in dad’s brain was in fact growing. We were informed by dad’s treatment team of a clinical trial at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) and knew that this was our only hope. We had dad transferred to NIH as fast as we could, and a week before his 70th birthday he was admitted for the clinical trial. Thankfully after he participated in 15 weeks of an experimental chemotherapy treatment he was deemed to be in complete remission. Unfortunately, during his final treatment he began experiencing lower body numbness, and eventually lost all feeling below his waist. The treatment that saved his life had paralyzed him.
NIH discharged dad to an acute rehabilitation facility where we hoped that he would regain the feeling in his lower body. Instead, after five weeks he started exhibiting decreased function of his left arm and increased confusion. An MRI then revealed new lesions on his brain. The lymphoma had returned.
We rushed dad back to NIH where they quickly put him on a radiation treatment. He received radiation as an inpatient every weekday from Thanksgiving to Christmas. Since then, dad has been deemed cancer free. He continues to reside in a rehabilitation facility and is working tirelessly day in and day out to regain his strength, rebuild his muscles, and ultimately walk again. However, as you can imagine, this is extremely hard work mentally, emotionally, and physically, not to mention the stress of the financial burden created by the cost of this care.
My dad, Danny Norris, is a humble man. He is honest, loving, gregarious, generous, and the best story teller I’ve ever met. He grew up in Leonardtown and attended Leonard Hall before graduating from Chopticon High School. He has served our community in countless ways through volunteerism and philanthropy. Dad is the embodiment of everything good about St. Mary’s County and he is on the road to recovery.
Please consider making a donation to dad’s GoFundMe which will be used to cover his medical expenses and ongoing rehabilitation needs. Thank you.
By Lauren Norris
I threw on a pair of jeans, grabbed my keys, and ran out the door.
On the drive to MedStar St. Mary’s Hospital from my apartment in Baltimore, the last words I heard on the phone with my dad were playing in my head on repeat. He called me because he was disoriented, confused, and waiting in the Emergency Department after having a CT scan at the recommendation of his doctor. I urged him to stop someone in the hallway and ask them what was going on. When he did, the frantic radiology tech reported, “We think you’re having a stroke.” That’s all I could hear on my 90-minute drive. “We think you’re having a stroke.”
When I arrived at the hospital nurses stopped me at the entrance to take my temperature and ensure I had a mask - it was March 26, 2020, the very beginning of what we now know as the COVID-19 pandemic. After being cleared I walked in and went up to the hospital bed in dad’s room and grabbed his hand. I asked what was going on, and through tear filled eyes he shared that the CT scan had revealed a mass in his brain. We cried together.
The doctors and nurses had already prepared dad’s transfer to MedStar Georgetown University Hospital where he underwent a craniotomy the following day. It revealed a soft tumor in his right frontal lobe. About two weeks later dad was diagnosed with Primary CNS Diffuse Large B Cell Lymphoma and the day after his diagnosis he began his first chemotherapy treatment.
The next several months were a blur. While we (and the rest of the world) were living through and attempting to navigate a global pandemic, dad was spending weeks at a time in the hospital for treatment.
After 10 long weeks of rigorous chemotherapy at MedStar Georgetown, the tumor in dad’s brain was in fact growing. We were informed by dad’s treatment team of a clinical trial at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) and knew that this was our only hope. We had dad transferred to NIH as fast as we could, and a week before his 70th birthday he was admitted for the clinical trial. Thankfully after he participated in 15 weeks of an experimental chemotherapy treatment he was deemed to be in complete remission. Unfortunately, during his final treatment he began experiencing lower body numbness, and eventually lost all feeling below his waist. The treatment that saved his life had paralyzed him.
NIH discharged dad to an acute rehabilitation facility where we hoped that he would regain the feeling in his lower body. Instead, after five weeks he started exhibiting decreased function of his left arm and increased confusion. An MRI then revealed new lesions on his brain. The lymphoma had returned.
We rushed dad back to NIH where they quickly put him on a radiation treatment. He received radiation as an inpatient every weekday from Thanksgiving to Christmas. Since then, dad has been deemed cancer free. He continues to reside in a rehabilitation facility and is working tirelessly day in and day out to regain his strength, rebuild his muscles, and ultimately walk again. However, as you can imagine, this is extremely hard work mentally, emotionally, and physically, not to mention the stress of the financial burden created by the cost of this care.
My dad, Danny Norris, is a humble man. He is honest, loving, gregarious, generous, and the best story teller I’ve ever met. He grew up in Leonardtown and attended Leonard Hall before graduating from Chopticon High School. He has served our community in countless ways through volunteerism and philanthropy. Dad is the embodiment of everything good about St. Mary’s County and he is on the road to recovery.
Please consider making a donation to dad’s GoFundMe which will be used to cover his medical expenses and ongoing rehabilitation needs. Thank you.
Co-organizers (2)
Steve Norris
Organizer
Leonardtown, MD
Dan Norris
Beneficiary
Lauren Norris
Co-organizer