Story
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"><strong>A belated look back and a positive look forward</strong></p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;">Back in June my small family got a huge blow - my dad was diagnosed with Stage 4b Hodgkin's Lymphoma. <a href="http://oliviarz.tumblr.com/post/7047126484/what-a-month">It was a rough month.</a><span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="color: blue;"> </span></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"><span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="color: blue;"><br></span></span></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"><a href="http://oliviarz.tumblr.com/post/7047263580/week-1-down-11-to-go">The first round of chemo started immediately</a>, with barely time to think about the long and daunting road ahead: 12 total rounds of chemo, one every 2 weeks. Dad's hair quickly fell out, but somehow his smile and muscles kept getting bigger. We celebrated the little victories through phone calls and my much more frequent trips home. <a href="http://oliviarz.tumblr.com/post/9048326737/cancer-kill-it-in-the-butt-with-love">I could see my dad's super hero strength shining through.</a></p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;">My two weeks home at Christmas were some of the most cherished of my life. We cooked, we laughed, we played, we hugged. I don't think we ever doubted we'd have this kind of fun together again, but you could feel that it was hard earned.<a href="http://oliviarz.tumblr.com/post/13609876397/5-months-ago-i-made-an-emergency-trip-home-it-was"> But there were tests and results looming ahead.</a></p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;">On January 17th, with my parents in the doctor's office and me on speakerphone, we heard the news: you are in remission! <span> </span>After a huge sigh of relief, somehow we knew we wouldn’t be off the hook that quickly.<span> </span>Because my dad was high risk for relapse, the recommendation was to move forward with a stem cell transplant – a procedure that would significantly decrease his chances of relapse, meaning a long road of fun ahead.</p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"><a href="http://oliviarz.tumblr.com/post/19560622014/the-motto-of-the-last-few-weeks-months">Dad re-entered the hospital on 11 March</a>, and like he proved from Day 1, was once again ready for whatever came his way. There was vomiting, mouth sores, more lost hair, many unpleasant procedures and too many bags of chemo, fluids and antibiotics. <span> </span><a href="http://oliviarz.tumblr.com/post/19683618967/update">But re-infusion came and went, and dad plugged ahead with the same determination and stride as before.</a><span> </span>Deemed the “healthiest guy on the floor” he turned his attention to making friends with all the doctors and nurses; after all those drugs, it seemed laughter was in fact the best medicine for too many days in the hospital.<span> </span>And mom’s hearty food and gifted strudel helped to gain a few fans, too.</p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;">Dad was released on 26 March. <span> </span>And by the 29, he was told his blood counts were essentially back to healthy levels.<span> </span>After all that fighting, he’s now facing his new reality: I AM CANCER FREE. As he can attest, it’s almost as scary as the initial news – it means you have to resume your life, pursue other goals, give back. But I can tell you, as a daughter, there’s no better news in the world.</p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;">My dad will walk me down the aisle (one of these days!), he’ll be there when I get my next promotion, and he’ll pick me up the next time I fail.</p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;"> </p>
<p style="margin: 0.1pt 0cm;">I hope that you can donate something – really anything – to help Leukemia and Lymphoma research continue to advance. <em>For me and all daddy’s girls out there…</em></p>
<p> </p>