Childhood Leukemia & Lymphoma
Donation protected
Please support my friend, Robby Poteat, as he is raising money for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. He is one of the most amazing and genuine people I know. He is a survivor of the disease himself and is now raising money to help those who have been afflicted with the same. Please read his story and donate to this very worthwhile cause. His story is below, but I have also included an additional link with more information .
http://www.mwoy.org/pages/soh/dayton15/rpoteat
PERSONAL STORY
“You’re going to be staying here for a little while”
Those were the words that came out of Dr. Marcia Wofford’s mouth as she visited with me bedside at Brenner’s Children’s Hospital at Wake Forest Medical Center on the Sunday before Labor Day, September 1 1991.
********
Hickory, North Carolina
It had been a long hot summer, and as most kids my age, it was sport to sport rotation between the seasons. However, this summer was not the same. My mother had noticed a fatigue level that set in, along with aches, pains and fever. That summer was scattered with several trips to the doctors, and odd illnesses like strep throat and bloody noses. There was nothing uncovered by any doctor’s visit, only a shrug and local prescription.
On Sunday, September 1st, 1991, I had woken up ill again that morning. After unsuccessful previous trips to the doctor that summer, my mother had had enough. However, it was Sunday, and only emergency situations would be welcomed. My parents wanted answers, and Catawba Pediatrics of Hickory North Carolina were kind enough to see me on the holiday.
The staff there had watched my brothers and I grow up. In a house full of boys, bumps and bruises were the norm- doctor’s visits were only in case of broken bones. Again, this was different. A new doctor was on call that weekend, Dr. David Millsaps, new to the area and new to me. He uncovered what previous visits did not.
He took a look at my file- the many recent visits- and ordered some immediate blood work, all with a very real sense of urgency. The bloodwork came back very concerning. Phone calls were made, and Dr. Millsaps had a very serious conversation with my parents.
The next few minutes are somewhat of a blur. I remember lying down in the back of our car, my mother up front, my father behind the wheel. I remember the speed at which we were driving up the highway, emergency flashers on… 90, 95, 100…..
An hour and thirty minutes later I was sitting in a hospital room in the tower of Brenner Children’s Hospital at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. A calming, elegant woman with short dark brown hair entered the room “Robby, my name is Dr. Wofford.” Wofford was not easy word to pronounce for a child, “Dr. Waffle” was much easier. She did not mind.
At age seven I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, a form of childhood cancer that attacks your bodies’ ability to produce proper blood cells counts, which are critical to your immune system.
For the next few months, that corner of Brenner’s would become my new home and the staff there were now additions to my family. Dr. Allen Chauvenet was another individual who would become a cornerstone of my time there. He was a man of high energy who always looked like he had not slept in 48 hours. He had some hair on top of his head, but more on the sides. His mad scientist look was entertaining, and he would find ways to make you laugh.
There were two head nurses, Debbie and Nancy, who took time to educate me and my family on the coming changes. The staff there was top of the line, and gave you an overwhelming sense of comfort and security as any elite Pediatric Oncology unit could.
My experience there was special. In fact, children’s hospitals themselves are special. They are places of hope. They are places of miracles. They are places where very little differences exist between individuals; all have gowns, most have no hair, and when able, some are towing that luggage called an I.V. down the hall. They are places where the word time has special meaning, that is, the most precious asset that a family has.
When you journey through an oncology ward, of any hospital, often the weight of life is felt in the family and friends, and not the patient. I was so fortunate to have very strong parents who showed their strength in many ways. My parents weathered this storm with steadfast determination. They were rocks. For others, it is not always so.
When you look upon a small child, and tell them with confidence that they will be ok, they will look back at you with unquestioning trust, but then the burden of performance is passed on to the parent or medical staff.
In politics we debate the cost of healthcare and insurance but rarely do we make it to the source. During my time, other families were not as fortunate. The cost of healthcare is real, and time is the most precious asset. These two components are a critical part of the patient care equation, which in addition to research, is part of the end game for the funds raise in this campaign. Downstream, that affect could be as simple as a hot shower, a little more assistance on the home front, or relief in hospital billing. Those benefits are real. I saw them. During my time of need, my parents did what they could to help out others in an anonymous fashion. It is important that I note that in this story. They taught me my first lesson in true philanthropy, and stretched their hearts a little bit bigger.
Treatment was a marathon. Methotrexate, Prednisone, and Vincristine were in the chemotherapy regimen for me in the coming months. It was seemingly endless blood work and spinal taps. You know your blood counts like you know your favorite sports team’s record. Eventually, I was able to go home. I was able to see my friends and family, especially my brothers, whom I had left behind. However, there were more challenges ahead. My mother had to be trained in administering in-home chemotherapy, a true accomplishment. That meant a 2 inch needle every six hours: 10am, 4pm, 10pm, 4am, every day, every week, every month.
It was made clear by one of my doctors that the support system formed around the individual is as critical to the process as is the treatment protocol itself. Positive thinking, thoughts, statements, and an un-quivering tone of voice were absolutely necessary. I found bravery in the reflection of my parents’ faces. Their courage was contagious, and I was able to reflect it.
However, that same frame of mind did not always extend to every friendship circle. Transformational changes can cause fear in those around you, and they did. The physical changes a person undergoes can be as damaging to the psyche as the cancer itself. There were those who withdrew their friendships out of fear, and there were those stepped forward. My parents made sure that I was only surrounded by positive thought. For that I am thankful.
Some years later I asked my mother, “Why don’t I have any pictures of that time period?” She replied “Capturing you in that state was not who you were, nor did we want you to remember yourself that way.” That was the genius of my mother. I am thankful.
The experience brought together extended family and friends, in ways that people who only have experiences like that understand. People who were just acquaintances became friends and friends became family. There is a strength in a community that is only realized unfortunately when times are the hardest. It was there for me when times were hard, and I am thankful.
The last few decades of the 20th century produced an intense series of cancer research findings. The 1980’s and 1990’s produced advances in targeted treatments for childhood leukemia. Previous treatments were as toxic to the body as the cancer themselves.
I exist as I am today because of advances in cancer treatment. For that I am thankful. I exist because I had a tremendous support system that came together for me and my family. Unfortunately, life is not a guarantee. We live in a world where horrible things happen to good people. However, these events give us an opportunity to show who we are, and who we can be.
I have been fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of people who stepped up for my cause, whether that was someone who gave a few dollars to cancer research many years ago or someone who volunteered their time and energy to make a meal for a family in need. All of these actions are contagious and their reach in effectiveness is paid forward for years down the road.
**********
I am thankful because today I work for a great institution, for great people, and for an athletic department that has a pulse on the heartbeat of the greater Dayton community. However, wins and losses on the athletic field are tallied as character building opportunities and a chance to reorganize and regroup. Wins and losses on this field, are measured in a different manner. I am in this campaign because I want to pay it forward, for everything and everyone that helped me when I was in need.
I was dealt a hand in life, and a chance to pursue my dreams. The outcome of those efforts are irrelevant, for the real outcome is that I was dealt a hand. My hand in life is still in front of me, and I’ll keep playing. The ability to pursue what you want in life and where you want to go is what life is truly all about. It is the journey that gives you the greatest sense of accomplishment.
I hope that the dollars that we raise in this campaign are able to give someone a chance to pursue their dreams, as I was able to pursue mine, and the kind of personal fulfillment in life that I have received here in Dayton, Ohio. I hope that you consider me for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Man of The Year.
I want to thank you for taking the time to visit my campaign page. Please join me in supporting The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) by making a donation to my fundraising campaign for Man or Woman of the Year. This is something I have a personal history with. Please feel free to read my story.
I have a lofty goal, but am confident that it can be reached. I have seen the costs associated with health care for cancer patients. I can assure you that every dollar raised will have an affect on somebody's life.
Over the years, support from people like you has been responsible for the blood cancer advancements that have doubled, tripled, and in some cases quadrupled the survival rate for some blood cancers.
Many LLS supported therapies not only help blood cancer patients, but are also now used to treat patients with rare forms of stomach and skin cancers and are in clinical trials for patients with lung, brain, breast, pancreatic and prostate cancers. And LLS funded drugs like targeted therapies and immunotherapies are now saving thousands of lives every day.
All donations are greatly appreciated and tax deductible. They'll not only support LLS research, but patient services, advocacy, public and professional education, and community services as well.
Please visit my Web site often and tell friends who would also like to donate!
http://www.mwoy.org/pages/soh/dayton15/rpoteat
PERSONAL STORY
“You’re going to be staying here for a little while”
Those were the words that came out of Dr. Marcia Wofford’s mouth as she visited with me bedside at Brenner’s Children’s Hospital at Wake Forest Medical Center on the Sunday before Labor Day, September 1 1991.
********
Hickory, North Carolina
It had been a long hot summer, and as most kids my age, it was sport to sport rotation between the seasons. However, this summer was not the same. My mother had noticed a fatigue level that set in, along with aches, pains and fever. That summer was scattered with several trips to the doctors, and odd illnesses like strep throat and bloody noses. There was nothing uncovered by any doctor’s visit, only a shrug and local prescription.
On Sunday, September 1st, 1991, I had woken up ill again that morning. After unsuccessful previous trips to the doctor that summer, my mother had had enough. However, it was Sunday, and only emergency situations would be welcomed. My parents wanted answers, and Catawba Pediatrics of Hickory North Carolina were kind enough to see me on the holiday.
The staff there had watched my brothers and I grow up. In a house full of boys, bumps and bruises were the norm- doctor’s visits were only in case of broken bones. Again, this was different. A new doctor was on call that weekend, Dr. David Millsaps, new to the area and new to me. He uncovered what previous visits did not.
He took a look at my file- the many recent visits- and ordered some immediate blood work, all with a very real sense of urgency. The bloodwork came back very concerning. Phone calls were made, and Dr. Millsaps had a very serious conversation with my parents.
The next few minutes are somewhat of a blur. I remember lying down in the back of our car, my mother up front, my father behind the wheel. I remember the speed at which we were driving up the highway, emergency flashers on… 90, 95, 100…..
An hour and thirty minutes later I was sitting in a hospital room in the tower of Brenner Children’s Hospital at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. A calming, elegant woman with short dark brown hair entered the room “Robby, my name is Dr. Wofford.” Wofford was not easy word to pronounce for a child, “Dr. Waffle” was much easier. She did not mind.
At age seven I was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia, a form of childhood cancer that attacks your bodies’ ability to produce proper blood cells counts, which are critical to your immune system.
For the next few months, that corner of Brenner’s would become my new home and the staff there were now additions to my family. Dr. Allen Chauvenet was another individual who would become a cornerstone of my time there. He was a man of high energy who always looked like he had not slept in 48 hours. He had some hair on top of his head, but more on the sides. His mad scientist look was entertaining, and he would find ways to make you laugh.
There were two head nurses, Debbie and Nancy, who took time to educate me and my family on the coming changes. The staff there was top of the line, and gave you an overwhelming sense of comfort and security as any elite Pediatric Oncology unit could.
My experience there was special. In fact, children’s hospitals themselves are special. They are places of hope. They are places of miracles. They are places where very little differences exist between individuals; all have gowns, most have no hair, and when able, some are towing that luggage called an I.V. down the hall. They are places where the word time has special meaning, that is, the most precious asset that a family has.
When you journey through an oncology ward, of any hospital, often the weight of life is felt in the family and friends, and not the patient. I was so fortunate to have very strong parents who showed their strength in many ways. My parents weathered this storm with steadfast determination. They were rocks. For others, it is not always so.
When you look upon a small child, and tell them with confidence that they will be ok, they will look back at you with unquestioning trust, but then the burden of performance is passed on to the parent or medical staff.
In politics we debate the cost of healthcare and insurance but rarely do we make it to the source. During my time, other families were not as fortunate. The cost of healthcare is real, and time is the most precious asset. These two components are a critical part of the patient care equation, which in addition to research, is part of the end game for the funds raise in this campaign. Downstream, that affect could be as simple as a hot shower, a little more assistance on the home front, or relief in hospital billing. Those benefits are real. I saw them. During my time of need, my parents did what they could to help out others in an anonymous fashion. It is important that I note that in this story. They taught me my first lesson in true philanthropy, and stretched their hearts a little bit bigger.
Treatment was a marathon. Methotrexate, Prednisone, and Vincristine were in the chemotherapy regimen for me in the coming months. It was seemingly endless blood work and spinal taps. You know your blood counts like you know your favorite sports team’s record. Eventually, I was able to go home. I was able to see my friends and family, especially my brothers, whom I had left behind. However, there were more challenges ahead. My mother had to be trained in administering in-home chemotherapy, a true accomplishment. That meant a 2 inch needle every six hours: 10am, 4pm, 10pm, 4am, every day, every week, every month.
It was made clear by one of my doctors that the support system formed around the individual is as critical to the process as is the treatment protocol itself. Positive thinking, thoughts, statements, and an un-quivering tone of voice were absolutely necessary. I found bravery in the reflection of my parents’ faces. Their courage was contagious, and I was able to reflect it.
However, that same frame of mind did not always extend to every friendship circle. Transformational changes can cause fear in those around you, and they did. The physical changes a person undergoes can be as damaging to the psyche as the cancer itself. There were those who withdrew their friendships out of fear, and there were those stepped forward. My parents made sure that I was only surrounded by positive thought. For that I am thankful.
Some years later I asked my mother, “Why don’t I have any pictures of that time period?” She replied “Capturing you in that state was not who you were, nor did we want you to remember yourself that way.” That was the genius of my mother. I am thankful.
The experience brought together extended family and friends, in ways that people who only have experiences like that understand. People who were just acquaintances became friends and friends became family. There is a strength in a community that is only realized unfortunately when times are the hardest. It was there for me when times were hard, and I am thankful.
The last few decades of the 20th century produced an intense series of cancer research findings. The 1980’s and 1990’s produced advances in targeted treatments for childhood leukemia. Previous treatments were as toxic to the body as the cancer themselves.
I exist as I am today because of advances in cancer treatment. For that I am thankful. I exist because I had a tremendous support system that came together for me and my family. Unfortunately, life is not a guarantee. We live in a world where horrible things happen to good people. However, these events give us an opportunity to show who we are, and who we can be.
I have been fortunate enough to be on the receiving end of people who stepped up for my cause, whether that was someone who gave a few dollars to cancer research many years ago or someone who volunteered their time and energy to make a meal for a family in need. All of these actions are contagious and their reach in effectiveness is paid forward for years down the road.
**********
I am thankful because today I work for a great institution, for great people, and for an athletic department that has a pulse on the heartbeat of the greater Dayton community. However, wins and losses on the athletic field are tallied as character building opportunities and a chance to reorganize and regroup. Wins and losses on this field, are measured in a different manner. I am in this campaign because I want to pay it forward, for everything and everyone that helped me when I was in need.
I was dealt a hand in life, and a chance to pursue my dreams. The outcome of those efforts are irrelevant, for the real outcome is that I was dealt a hand. My hand in life is still in front of me, and I’ll keep playing. The ability to pursue what you want in life and where you want to go is what life is truly all about. It is the journey that gives you the greatest sense of accomplishment.
I hope that the dollars that we raise in this campaign are able to give someone a chance to pursue their dreams, as I was able to pursue mine, and the kind of personal fulfillment in life that I have received here in Dayton, Ohio. I hope that you consider me for Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Man of The Year.
I want to thank you for taking the time to visit my campaign page. Please join me in supporting The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (LLS) by making a donation to my fundraising campaign for Man or Woman of the Year. This is something I have a personal history with. Please feel free to read my story.
I have a lofty goal, but am confident that it can be reached. I have seen the costs associated with health care for cancer patients. I can assure you that every dollar raised will have an affect on somebody's life.
Over the years, support from people like you has been responsible for the blood cancer advancements that have doubled, tripled, and in some cases quadrupled the survival rate for some blood cancers.
Many LLS supported therapies not only help blood cancer patients, but are also now used to treat patients with rare forms of stomach and skin cancers and are in clinical trials for patients with lung, brain, breast, pancreatic and prostate cancers. And LLS funded drugs like targeted therapies and immunotherapies are now saving thousands of lives every day.
All donations are greatly appreciated and tax deductible. They'll not only support LLS research, but patient services, advocacy, public and professional education, and community services as well.
Please visit my Web site often and tell friends who would also like to donate!
Organizer and beneficiary
Kelley Gunter
Organizer
Troy, OH
Robert Poteat
Beneficiary
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