Acute Monoblastic Leukemia. It is a rare blood cancer. It is our culprit, and the target of our war. Amos has started chemotherapy as of last night so the first battle is on. Our little samurai warrior put on his war attire and Mom folded him up a little samurai hat. Amos is ready to fight, and so are we. We have a long road ahead. The treatment plan is intense, and includes ten day regimens of chemo including two spinal column administrations of chemo in those ten days. These are then followed by three week breaks from therapy in the hospital to recover and ward off infection. Then he gets to go home for one week to snuggle it out with his best buddy, Murphy, our lovable golden retriever. The cycle will go for a total of four rounds of that regimen. After round two the doctors here will analyze his status to determine whether a bone marrow transplant will be necessary. I have to be honest in reporting that he was starting to get into pretty rough shape. His little belly had distended an additional six inches in circumference and the CT scan had shown that his tumors were growing. His little breaths were rather labored, and he was really a hurting kid. I personally was becoming really worried, and I was relieved when a diagnosis and treatment plan finally came in.
^The warrior prepares.
^The first battle is on.
^Taking a break after the first dose of chemo and Amos enjoys playing with his brand new cellphone all his own. My cousins, Patti and Matt Robinson, sent him a package with all kinds of toys and adorable cards from their grandkids. Amos latched right on to the cellphone. In the spirit of sarcasm, my favorite humor, I am expecting a call from Verizon Wireless any day now to try to lock him into his first two-year contract. Leachers.
^Our warrior also received a new sidekick ninja bear from my second family, the Schmaling clan. Ryan Schmaling and I have been the best of friends since before kindergarten days. I have a group of buddies from the early days of my life in Lily Lake that I have come to consider brothers alongside my real big brother, Tyler. The fellas and I have walked the walk together through tragedy and championships. I recently missed out on a reunion with these guys due to Amos' battle when one of them, Ray, married his love. Ryan and I have been through all of life's milestones together, and his family is as much my own as any blood can bind. I have spilled enough of my own blood all over his childhood homes to maybe even qualify as blood relation. His poor mother, Jane, has been privy to plenty of emergency care for me as well as the rest of us. Ryan and I have won championships through a lifetime of sports together, and carried our friend's coffins to the grave in the valleys of the shadows of death. We have walked the line, and we share memorial tattoos to prove it. He will always have my back, and his family has always supported me like one of their own. I always cherish Packer football Sundays at their house and "halfer" beers from the tap over the kitchen counter with Ryan's hilariously brash father, Rich. Ryan's sisters, Renee and Jamie, are the older sisters my parents never had. When Jamie started a family with her husband, John, it was the first time I realized we were all growing up to see that we would have kids of our own that I wanted to grow up together just like we all had. Throughout this whole ordeal with Amos' cancer fight Christine and I have been astounded at the forthcoming of love and support from all our friends and family. As I have said before, we will never be able to properly repay the debt, but as everyone rallies behind us we feel so blessed for everyone of them. So in conclusion, just as Ryan and I used to chant in the huddle of our basketball team in elementary school, "What time is it!? Game Time! Hooo!"
