Dear Mike,
I have been wanting to write, to reach out, to you, since our Class reunion and your last communication with some of us on the Committee. Alas, I must write you now on a quite different subject.
Dear friends and classmates, our Reunion team,
After five weeks of unexpected turbulence, my family has entered a period of calm. Not all of you know that about five weeks ago I reached out to some of you for help, support and advice. I was in a state of panic, anxiety, fear, you name it.
Here’s why. On December 6, Myra and I found our 36-year-old son, Alec, wandering down our driveway; he had a severe wound to the left side of his head. The area around his left eye was beginning to swell up. He was disoriented and incoherent. The immediate intake in the emergency room revealed that he had had a seizure, which caused a fall (hence the head wound), another seizure in the ER, and a Cat Scan that revealed a tumor on his left frontal lobe. All this in less than a hour from our driveway encounter. Surprise! But what an awesome ER team we had. Just like in the movies.
Alec was admitted, put on anti-seizure medication, and had a surgery to remove the tumor. All within seventy-two hours. The pathology revealed an anaplastic astrocytoma with IDH-1 mutation that apparently had been growing for a long time, with no symptoms at all until the seizure. The neuro-surgeon (a beautiful, young, nerdy guy) reported that most of it was removed, but not all, in order to prevent any damage to the brain. Alec was walking up and down the practice stairs the next morning. Ah, youth. Meanwhile, I have refused to read anything about this cancer on the internet.
The neuro-oncologist and radiation oncologist at Yale/New Haven have now taken over his case. They are also smart, young and nerdy, and the best at what they do. What good fortune. He begins a six-week program of radiation and chemotherapy later his week. Then a program of just on-and-off chemo for several months. Both doctors are emphatic in their expectation of a favorable outcome, something on the order of a chronic condition that needs to be managed, given that this particular mutation has in the past been shown to succumb to this treatment program.
We should be happy, and I am. But still numb and depressed. Here is what fell right: he was not driving when the first seizure hit; he was not at the top of a ladder or a roof (where he often is!), but rather standing or sitting by his workshop desk; Myra and I stumbled onto him within minutes of the event. More good fortune.
So that’s the latest. I will keep you posted. Thank you all for your kind and generous responses, especially Doctors Arthur and Julian. I could not hope for better friends than all of you. Thank you.
Cordially, JP
I need you, and Aaron, to give me strength and solace It’s a selfish ask, I know.
