TOMMY CASTELLANO
Donation protected
On April 27th, while in Florida, my brother Tommy had a high fever and became severely disoriented. His wife, Eileen didn’t blink and called 911. By the time he arrived at the hospital he was delirious from the fever. The trauma team sprang into action to get the fever down. A longstanding chronic infection in his foot had traveled into his bloodstream. His blood pressure had dropped dangerously low, and he was truly fighting for his life while they worked on him. They stabilized him and he was admitted into the Medical ICU.
The next day he was told that they would have to amputate his foot and part of his leg to save his life. Now coherent, he responded to the news in true Tommy style and said, “a life is better than a foot.”
The surgery occurred that afternoon. He cheated death once again in the operating room, survived, and came out with a positive attitude. He referred to himself as “Tommy 2.0.” He returned to that same operating room four days later for the surgeon to determine whether the infection had spread further than the amputation, which thankfully, it had not, and they closed his wound.
About two weeks after his second surgery, Tommy was placed in the inpatient physical therapy wing of the hospital. The rigor of doing the therapy was difficult so soon after two major surgeries, but he gave it all he could. Sadly, while there, a medical error occurred. The hospital neglected to remove and replace a mainline IV in a timely fashion, and he suffered a secondary infection that rendered him semi-conscious and at death’s door again.
The medical professionals and many of those around him felt that he was not going to pull through this time. My siblings and I knew the fortitude it took for him to fight his illnesses for over 30 years, and we recognized that this could not be his final chapter. He would never just give up. But the fact remained that he was non-responsive. I found it difficult to convince everyone surrounding Tommy that he was not going to die yet. I could see there was still life. I could see it through those scared eyes. It was like a bad movie. Everyone was talking around him as though he was not there, and it was already over. I was fighting for him, and I was an island unto myself full of hope and faith. Suddenly, like a hibernating bear, he stretched his arms, yawned, and showed true signs that it was NOT over yet.
The next day he woke up completely and told everyone who contacted him, “I’m back. The rumors of my demise were false!” Prayer from many and intellect from a few saved him once again. Within days he was transferred to a new inpatient Rehabilitation facility to get stronger.
Tommy remains medically fragile from that last infection. It interrupted his rehab causing the process to become even more arduous, but he never gives up hope, and I believe that’s what also helps him pull through. If he could reach out to everyone he knows and tell them one by one not to worry, that he will be okay, that’s what he’d do. We can all validate that resolve and show some kindness back to him.
THE ROAD AHEAD
His recovery will be challenging medically, and he will also require extensive aftercare once home. The logistical changes that he will face are equally great. He will be fitted periodically with multiple, successive, prosthetic devices as the wound heals and shrinks. Tommy will require a specialized wheelchair, as well as major costly construction modifications to be made throughout his home to accommodate assistive devices, the wheelchair, and set-ups to compensate for his compromised mobility. While you won’t find him working under a car anytime soon, the first question he asked the prosthetic company was, Can I drive? Mechanical modifications will also be made to his vehicle so the answer can be YES!
The lifestyle changes and costs involved seem insurmountable while focused on healing medically. The expenses associated with these necessities are in fact extreme. Tommy and Eileen would never ask for help, that’s what makes the two of them so special. They were the ones to help people, never asking for any help of their own. Tommy NEVER said “no” when someone called him for help. He would struggle to do things himself and rarely ask for assistance. I believe now is the time that many of us can pay him back for his unwavering generosity.
This is “our Tommy,” that amazing man who never, ever said no to anyone when they needed him. Whether he jumpstarted your car somewhere in Co-op City, the Bronx, Westchester, anywhere, in the 1970’s, or gave you road directions before internet or GPS, he was always available. It’s his turn to be on the receiving end. Tommy doesn’t have hundreds of friends, he has hundreds of family members, because once you know him as a friend, you truly become his family. He is “Pugsley,” and I am “Wednesday.” As kids we were partners in crime figuring out how we could wreak havoc. I hope and pray that legacy continues.
NOTE: Many don’t know that Tommy is a cancer survivor. His infection stems back to his 28 days in Memorial Sloan Kettering in 1989. He was diagnosed with a myxoid liposarcoma, an extremely rare form of sarcoma. The treatment after surgery was a megadose of radiation seeds implanted in the area where the cancer had been removed. He fought that battle and won. He was and has remained cancer-free and was always thankful. The price he paid, however, was a lifetime of medical interventions, multiple unsuccessful skin grafts, severe nerve damage as well as neuropathy in the lower extremity, and chronic pain throughout his whole body for most of his adult life.
In 2001 his right pinky toe was amputated to stave off infection. His life was spared again, and he referred to himself as “Tommy Nine Toes.” Even at his worst, he was always making everyone around him feel their best with his humor! After that surgery the foot never healed completely. He developed a chronic bone infection called osteomyelitis. This infection lingered off and on for two decades. He spent forty days going to a hyperbaric chamber daily for treatment, he required constant debriding of the infected area, and his incredible wife would begin her day, every day, dressing his wound. He battled surviving cancer, but the last 21 years he spent with an open wound on his foot. My brother never wore that pain on his face. He suffered quietly day in and day out dealing with all sorts of procedures, never complaining, never sharing his distress
The next day he was told that they would have to amputate his foot and part of his leg to save his life. Now coherent, he responded to the news in true Tommy style and said, “a life is better than a foot.”
The surgery occurred that afternoon. He cheated death once again in the operating room, survived, and came out with a positive attitude. He referred to himself as “Tommy 2.0.” He returned to that same operating room four days later for the surgeon to determine whether the infection had spread further than the amputation, which thankfully, it had not, and they closed his wound.
About two weeks after his second surgery, Tommy was placed in the inpatient physical therapy wing of the hospital. The rigor of doing the therapy was difficult so soon after two major surgeries, but he gave it all he could. Sadly, while there, a medical error occurred. The hospital neglected to remove and replace a mainline IV in a timely fashion, and he suffered a secondary infection that rendered him semi-conscious and at death’s door again.
The medical professionals and many of those around him felt that he was not going to pull through this time. My siblings and I knew the fortitude it took for him to fight his illnesses for over 30 years, and we recognized that this could not be his final chapter. He would never just give up. But the fact remained that he was non-responsive. I found it difficult to convince everyone surrounding Tommy that he was not going to die yet. I could see there was still life. I could see it through those scared eyes. It was like a bad movie. Everyone was talking around him as though he was not there, and it was already over. I was fighting for him, and I was an island unto myself full of hope and faith. Suddenly, like a hibernating bear, he stretched his arms, yawned, and showed true signs that it was NOT over yet.
The next day he woke up completely and told everyone who contacted him, “I’m back. The rumors of my demise were false!” Prayer from many and intellect from a few saved him once again. Within days he was transferred to a new inpatient Rehabilitation facility to get stronger.
Tommy remains medically fragile from that last infection. It interrupted his rehab causing the process to become even more arduous, but he never gives up hope, and I believe that’s what also helps him pull through. If he could reach out to everyone he knows and tell them one by one not to worry, that he will be okay, that’s what he’d do. We can all validate that resolve and show some kindness back to him.
THE ROAD AHEAD
His recovery will be challenging medically, and he will also require extensive aftercare once home. The logistical changes that he will face are equally great. He will be fitted periodically with multiple, successive, prosthetic devices as the wound heals and shrinks. Tommy will require a specialized wheelchair, as well as major costly construction modifications to be made throughout his home to accommodate assistive devices, the wheelchair, and set-ups to compensate for his compromised mobility. While you won’t find him working under a car anytime soon, the first question he asked the prosthetic company was, Can I drive? Mechanical modifications will also be made to his vehicle so the answer can be YES!
The lifestyle changes and costs involved seem insurmountable while focused on healing medically. The expenses associated with these necessities are in fact extreme. Tommy and Eileen would never ask for help, that’s what makes the two of them so special. They were the ones to help people, never asking for any help of their own. Tommy NEVER said “no” when someone called him for help. He would struggle to do things himself and rarely ask for assistance. I believe now is the time that many of us can pay him back for his unwavering generosity.
This is “our Tommy,” that amazing man who never, ever said no to anyone when they needed him. Whether he jumpstarted your car somewhere in Co-op City, the Bronx, Westchester, anywhere, in the 1970’s, or gave you road directions before internet or GPS, he was always available. It’s his turn to be on the receiving end. Tommy doesn’t have hundreds of friends, he has hundreds of family members, because once you know him as a friend, you truly become his family. He is “Pugsley,” and I am “Wednesday.” As kids we were partners in crime figuring out how we could wreak havoc. I hope and pray that legacy continues.
NOTE: Many don’t know that Tommy is a cancer survivor. His infection stems back to his 28 days in Memorial Sloan Kettering in 1989. He was diagnosed with a myxoid liposarcoma, an extremely rare form of sarcoma. The treatment after surgery was a megadose of radiation seeds implanted in the area where the cancer had been removed. He fought that battle and won. He was and has remained cancer-free and was always thankful. The price he paid, however, was a lifetime of medical interventions, multiple unsuccessful skin grafts, severe nerve damage as well as neuropathy in the lower extremity, and chronic pain throughout his whole body for most of his adult life.
In 2001 his right pinky toe was amputated to stave off infection. His life was spared again, and he referred to himself as “Tommy Nine Toes.” Even at his worst, he was always making everyone around him feel their best with his humor! After that surgery the foot never healed completely. He developed a chronic bone infection called osteomyelitis. This infection lingered off and on for two decades. He spent forty days going to a hyperbaric chamber daily for treatment, he required constant debriding of the infected area, and his incredible wife would begin her day, every day, dressing his wound. He battled surviving cancer, but the last 21 years he spent with an open wound on his foot. My brother never wore that pain on his face. He suffered quietly day in and day out dealing with all sorts of procedures, never complaining, never sharing his distress
Organizer and beneficiary
Susan McCabe
Organizer
Palm Coast, FL
Thomas Castellano
Beneficiary