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Rodney’s Story 
On January 30, 2004, I was diagnosed with lymphoma. Specifically, stage one, follicular, large-cell, grade three, non-Hodgkins lymphoma.
The surgeon would not elaborate on my condition, as this was the task for the oncologist. I did not have an oncologist, and it wasn’t until a week later, that I met the great Dr. Leonard and his dedicated team. Incidently this is a great place to post the wonderful news that today, the launch date for Kids Rocking Cancer's web site, September 17, 2009 was my 5th year check up which I passed in flying colors. I was told there is no need for any scans for next year's check up. Now I am wondering how to warm the coffee at my next check up....lol... The great news is thanks to advancements in medical science and the wonderful medical team I am fortunate to have.
It was the most traumatic week of my life. I thought about how my family would hold up at my funeral. I thought about all of my life’s unresolved issues, and how difficult it would be for my wife to raise our children without a father. Thinking back, it was the beginning of my depression, which I did not acknowledge nor seek help for until many months later.
To everyone’s relief the prognosis was a much-welcome extension of my lease on life. I received CHOPS chemotherapy, followed by localized radiation as preventive measures, with regular follow-ups to keep my chronic cancer in check. Compared to the death sentence expected, and as invasive and traumatic as the treatment was, as Colonel Potter from M*A*S*H* famously said, it was a “tiptoe through the tulips.”
Besides the trauma of the diagnosis and treatment, being a survivor carried a heavy load. What do I say to my kids? What about extended family and friends? How do I continue working? Will I function “normally” after treatment? What about side effects? What was the likelihood of a relapse or getting a second cancer?
Although the medical establishment addressed some of my concerns, there were many issues that were not part of the treatment. My moods altered between sadness, anger, self-pity, resignation and compassion. Even though, thanks to heavy doses of steroids, I put on over thirty pounds during treatment, I had no appetite. As tired as I was with the chemo and radiation, I could not sleep.
As a survivor, my first big mistake was to hide the truth from my son, who was a freshman in college. Later, I learned how wrong that was. Kids know when there is something wrong, and by not being honest with them, parents can cause them to imagine the worst. My son did not get the chance to express his feelings and concerns, and internalized everything in order to “protect” me. It wasn’t until his summer vacation when I talked to him about the cancer. Even then, just as I had done with my teenage daughter, the “truth” was watered down in a futile effort to “shield” them.
It was as if I thought my children did not have the capacity to handle the truth. The reality is that children are much wiser than we ever give them credit for. It is important to share our anguish and pain with them and allow them to share theirs. We must not “protect” them and prevent them from growing and preparing themselves for life. Repressed negative emotions are the real killers in our society.
Having been raised in a traditional family, I thought it was taboo to talk about cancer. I thought I was expected to pretend that all was well, and that my shaved head, even at the ripe age of 48, was a fashion statement. Worst yet, the stigma of a psychological disease made me ignore my depression until it literally brought me to my knees. I was diagnosed with clinical depression and fought tooth and nail not to be checked into the hospital. Mine was a “situational” depression brought about by the trauma of diagnosis and treatment for cancer, something I learned the hard way.
This took me back to my first experience with cancer, which occurred during elementary school some 45 years ago. After his older brother John (the names have been changed) had fallen sick, my closest friend Michael was never himself again. He became quiet, distant, and would no longer played with us. When we insisted, Michael got angry and told us that we did not understand. He was right, we didn’t. Some weeks later, John passed away. Michael never mentioned his brother’s death, and became more and more reclusive. It wasn’t long before his parents picked him up from school one day, never to return. Later, we learned that John had succumbed to leukemia, and his parents had taken Michael out of school for psychological treatment in the wake of his brother’s death. In effect, I had lost my best childhood friend to leukemia, an event that scarred me forever. And today with the advancements in treatment, and medications, thankfully over 90% of children affected with Leukemia respond positively to treatment.
It wasn’t long after my treatment that I learned I could not pretend anymore. Like many fellow survivors, the cancer experience had changed my life forever. What I had regarded as a tragedy had become an opportunity for spiritual growth. It was a challenge and a wake-up call, telling me that I need to put back into life more than I have taken. I joined the ranks of many survivors who feel that the cancer experience has given them a new perspective, greater maturity and clarity about their philosophy and outlook towards life. Like many, I was overcome by the passion to give back.
So I closed my online travel company and went back to school at NYU for a certificate in philanthropy. After much consideration, I could think of no better direction for my passion than learning from my experiences and starting Kids Rocking Cancer to provide psychosocial support for children whose lives have been changed forever by cancer. I hope that one day Michael, wherever he is, will learn that his brother’s battle with leukemia will better the world for many children.
Rodney's blog