Help Ruth & Jeff Cox Kick Cancer's A**!
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WHAT IS HAPPENING NOW...
For a while now this GoFundMe page has been devoted to my mom. However, as with all things with life, it is now time for that to change...
About two weeks ago we learned that my dad, my wonderful, loving, generous father, has Stage 4 follicular Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I can imagine that while reading that you might have said in your head, "you've got to be F***ing kidding me?" Well, at least, that's what I said when my dad told me.
Throughout my mom's treatment at Brigham Women's Hospital, my dad was secretly going to consultations and seeing doctors across the street at Dana Farber Cancer Institute. Only a few people knew what he was doing, that secretive little mink.
Once my mom comes home on Wednesday from Spaulding my dad will be starting chemo treatments. He will be receiving chemo two days a month for six months, which means he likely will not be able to work. My mom will definitely not be able to work until she is able to walk on her own, she's close but not quite stable enough to be able to handle the demands of employment.
Many of you know that my dad has been living with Type 1 Diabetes for basically his whole life, 50 years he has been diagnosed. Many of you know my dad to be a kind man who will go out of his way to help you. He is a wonderful father, husband, brother, and son. He is a wonderful man. Please, say a prayer or send a positive thought out into the universe for him.
WHAT HAS HAPPENED...
My mother is one of the most incredible women I have ever known. The word "fighter" doesn't even come close to describing my mom. Her resilience, fearlessness, and unbounding love for others are superhuman. My father is one of the most devoted husbands and fathers to walk this Earth. He loves my mother to a fault and she loves him to a fault, they are soulmates. Together they have endured so much, too much. More than any couple ever should. My mom's battle with Stage III Breast Cancer almost 20 years ago and just the daily challenges of life. Unfortunately, they have had to face another challenge head-on together...
On June 3rd my mom, Ruth, began chemotherapy for Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) at Brigham & Women's Hospital and Dana Farber Cancer Institute in Boston, MA. She received the most aggressive treatment possible, the "Red Devil." She handled treatment well for the first two weeks until she began suffering from a stomach infection, typhlitis, a somewhat common side-effect of the type of chemotherapy she received.
Almost a month after the stomach infection began my mom suffered a cardiac arrest. My mom flatlined for 20 minutes, eventually, she regained a pulse but was unresponsive. My mom was rushed off to the Medical Intensive Care Unit (MICU) where she was put into a medically induced coma with a breathing tube for four days while she underwent the standard heart trauma protocol: Cooling and rewarming of the body. My mom pulled through like a champ like she always does.
Unfortunately, my mom's troubles weren't over yet. Her cognitive abilities appeared to have declined since "the event," so my dad made the doctors do an MRI of my mom's brain. On the imaging, the doctors saw hundreds of tiny abscesses, the size of a mustard seed, all throughout my mother's brain. She underwent various blood tests and a spinal tap to no avail, all of the testing came back clean. The final course of action was a brain biopsy to which we consented.
Before my mom underwent the brain biopsy we learned that she was in remission from Leukemia: Mom 2, Cancer 0.
We were worried she may not make it through, but like always my mom pulled through. From the biopsy sample, pathology and other doctors have confirmed that there is yeast growing throughout her brain and they are treating her accordingly. The treatment seems to be working as her fevers have significantly lessened.
Mom will be transferred to an in-patient rehabilitation facility soon. She is very weak, she took her first steps in almost two months the other day. At the rehab center, she will have to relearn how to swallow and walk, along with other normal activities that most people are able to do on their own.
Throughout this whole ordeal, my dad has not left my mom's side. For the first month and a half, my dad slept either in the reclining chair in my mom's room or in a conference room on the oncology floor. After the cardiac arrest, my dad was able to move into a room in a house for patients and their families. While this room is cheap it is not free. Even cheap starts to add up as the days, weeks, months go by.
While my mom, fortunately, has health insurance that will pay for a lot of treatment, this whole experience is not cheap. My parents have savings but are not financially equipped to afford medical/living expenses in Boston and normal bills at home in Albany.
My family does not like to ask for help from others, but sometimes you need to do just that. My aunt said the other day that God can't help us directly so he works through others on Earth, so when we refuse the help of others we are refusing God's help. So if you want to help, we won't refuse.
WHAT IS HAPPENING NOW...
For a while now this GoFundMe page has been devoted to my mom. However, as with all things with life, it is now time for that to change...
About two weeks ago we learned that my dad, my wonderful, loving, generous father, has Stage 4 follicular Non-Hodgkin's Lymphoma. I can imagine that while reading that you might have said in your head, "you've got to be F***ing kidding me?" Well, at least, that's what I said when my dad told me.
Throughout my mom's treatment at Brigham Women's Hospital, my dad was secretly going to consultations and seeing doctors across the street at Dana Farber Cancer Institute. Only a few people knew what he was doing, that secretive little mink.
Once my mom comes home on Wednesday from Spaulding my dad will be starting chemo treatments. He will be receiving chemo two days a month for six months, which means he likely will not be able to work. My mom will definitely not be able to work until she is able to walk on her own, she's close but not quite stable enough to be able to handle the demands of employment.
Many of you know that my dad has been living with Type 1 Diabetes for basically his whole life, 50 years he has been diagnosed. Many of you know my dad to be a kind man who will go out of his way to help you. He is a wonderful father, husband, brother, and son. He is a wonderful man. Please, say a prayer or send a positive thought out into the universe for him.
WHAT HAS HAPPENED...
My mother is one of the most incredible women I have ever known. The word "fighter" doesn't even come close to describing my mom. Her resilience, fearlessness, and unbounding love for others are superhuman. My father is one of the most devoted husbands and fathers to walk this Earth. He loves my mother to a fault and she loves him to a fault, they are soulmates. Together they have endured so much, too much. More than any couple ever should. My mom's battle with Stage III Breast Cancer almost 20 years ago and just the daily challenges of life. Unfortunately, they have had to face another challenge head-on together...
On June 3rd my mom, Ruth, began chemotherapy for Acute Myeloid Leukemia (AML) at Brigham & Women's Hospital and Dana Farber Cancer Institute in Boston, MA. She received the most aggressive treatment possible, the "Red Devil." She handled treatment well for the first two weeks until she began suffering from a stomach infection, typhlitis, a somewhat common side-effect of the type of chemotherapy she received.
Almost a month after the stomach infection began my mom suffered a cardiac arrest. My mom flatlined for 20 minutes, eventually, she regained a pulse but was unresponsive. My mom was rushed off to the Medical Intensive Care Unit (MICU) where she was put into a medically induced coma with a breathing tube for four days while she underwent the standard heart trauma protocol: Cooling and rewarming of the body. My mom pulled through like a champ like she always does.
Unfortunately, my mom's troubles weren't over yet. Her cognitive abilities appeared to have declined since "the event," so my dad made the doctors do an MRI of my mom's brain. On the imaging, the doctors saw hundreds of tiny abscesses, the size of a mustard seed, all throughout my mother's brain. She underwent various blood tests and a spinal tap to no avail, all of the testing came back clean. The final course of action was a brain biopsy to which we consented.
Before my mom underwent the brain biopsy we learned that she was in remission from Leukemia: Mom 2, Cancer 0.
We were worried she may not make it through, but like always my mom pulled through. From the biopsy sample, pathology and other doctors have confirmed that there is yeast growing throughout her brain and they are treating her accordingly. The treatment seems to be working as her fevers have significantly lessened.
Mom will be transferred to an in-patient rehabilitation facility soon. She is very weak, she took her first steps in almost two months the other day. At the rehab center, she will have to relearn how to swallow and walk, along with other normal activities that most people are able to do on their own.
Throughout this whole ordeal, my dad has not left my mom's side. For the first month and a half, my dad slept either in the reclining chair in my mom's room or in a conference room on the oncology floor. After the cardiac arrest, my dad was able to move into a room in a house for patients and their families. While this room is cheap it is not free. Even cheap starts to add up as the days, weeks, months go by.
While my mom, fortunately, has health insurance that will pay for a lot of treatment, this whole experience is not cheap. My parents have savings but are not financially equipped to afford medical/living expenses in Boston and normal bills at home in Albany.
My family does not like to ask for help from others, but sometimes you need to do just that. My aunt said the other day that God can't help us directly so he works through others on Earth, so when we refuse the help of others we are refusing God's help. So if you want to help, we won't refuse.
Organizer
Olivia Cox
Organizer
Albany, NY
