The Original Diagnosis - in Beau's own words

 The first diagnosis 

The Deer in the Headlights 

       

Beau's family before cancer, hiking, fishing, camping

just enjoying everyday life

Four years ago, I had just turned 35, our daughter was nine, my son was seven and we were in the process of getting legal custody of our nephew Owen who was also seven at the time. 

35 years old.

We really felt like we were getting to that point - that time when you really start figuring out life, family and responsibilities. Life was good, we still struggled like most young families, but as a father and husband I felt like I was really starting to hit my stride. We had our three young children that we could raise in an amazing lake community. I never imagined having a lake to enjoy where we took sunset boat trips, took our kids to the beach on hot summer days and where I loved to get away at dawn to search for that elusive white whale. 

One day I just started getting tired and weak whenever I would try to do anything physical. I worked at a warehouse for eleven years, where I regularly stacked and moved thousands of pounds of material every day. So not being able to physically do my job was a bit concerning. 

But, as any man will tell you, I was fine. Hell I don't get sick but once a year with the flu. 

What's that boss, we gotta renegotiate our health insurance? Yeah I'll take that cheap one, what is it liability? Where they just cover in case you happen to damage someone else's health?? 

I was 35. I thought companies that you spent 11 years working for would at least honor their promise they made that very last time my wife and I walked out of their office. That day they hugged us both and said whatever you need, let us know! But that’s all I’m going to say about that simply because I do love and appreciate many that still work there. I didn't know, didn't care that I didn't know. I just trust too easily, too much. 

But then, whenever I would try to drink a beer after work I felt bloated and my side would hurt. At that point something had to get figured out! I made a doctors appointment that week and I figured they'd tell me that it was some virus or infection of some sort. 

In the following days while I waited for the test results I started feeling worse and worse. My wife had even mentioned that I didn't just look pale but I looked gray. Then on October 19th at about eight in the evening I got a call from my doctor. 

He started to explain normal ranges of blood counts and that my white blood cells were about five to six times higher than normal and that my platelets were extremely low. I said okay... maybe hearing something in his voice. 

In my world, doctors just don't call you at home in the evening. 

Then he said, Mr. Dudte we think you have leukemia and you'll need to see a specialist asap. 

At that point my mind just went numb, I. wasn't. listening. to. anything. else. 

What the hell do you mean I have leukemia? 

That's ridiculous, I barely know what leukemia is. Just that TV commercials tell me that kids and old people get it, not a 35 year old dude, seemingly, in the prime of his life. 

A couple days later we went to see a specialist who then took more blood tests and did a physical exam. She began noting the red dots I hadn't noticed before on my legs, little did I know those red dots were called petechiae, which is a tell tale sign of extremely low platelets. When she got the blood results she confirmed that it was leukemia and that I would need to check into Akron General hospital. 

Everything just really slowed down, maybe even stopped. Leukemia? Now? What?

I asked when I needed to go to the hospital, she said, "um today". 

For how long??? 

Usually about 4-5 weeks.

All I could say was I can't go today! My car is at work, we have our kids in school, I don't have 4 weeks of vacation time, what do you want me to do???? 

She said, go home take care of your kids, get everything in order but be extremely careful, Mr. Dudte you are extremely sick. We will have a room ready for you tomorrow morning. 

Tomorrow morning? Tomorrow morning I have to take the trash out of the garage and to the dumpster. Tomorrow morning I have to make sure my kids get to school. Tomorrow morning I have to help Mandy get lunches ready. 

How do you even approach something like that? You have the next 12 hours to get ready to explain to your kids what's happening, inform my work I just won't be there for at least a month, call family to try and get help with the kids and everything else, pack bags and all the while feeling like you don't know if you just want to start breaking stuff or crying or maybe a little of both.

It was my very first introduction to the beast of cancer, and it's tendency to drive your life. Forever drive your life. 

The next couple days were a blur, filled with probably a dozen doctors, medical terminology I could only pretend to understand and more pills, needles, IVs and blood draws than I thought was humanly possible. 

The one thing I remember thinking was that being stuck in both arms over a dozen times each when you have hardly any blood clotting capabilities, is that you end up looking like a heroine addict with track marks running up and down your arms. 

You have a tendency to be amused at weird things in the land of cancer not to mention that I’ve always used humor to deflect pain and trauma. - immediate needle tracks on both arms was only the first in a series of weird thoughts that first day in the hospital. 

Finally the genealogy test to determine the type of leukemia raiding my body came back. This is where you begin your crash course on oncology. 

I was diagnosed with Philadelphia Chromosome positive Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. 

If it sounds pretty specific, it's because it is. I was told that not only is it rare for people of my age group to be diagnosed with "ALL", but a positive B cell or Philadelphia chromosome only accounts for about twenty percent of cases. 

In the world of oncology, you never want to hear anything like "20%" connected to any part of your cancer name. It means less research sometimes, it means finding the right doctor, the right research, the right facility - you just can't get treatment anywhere. 

Essentially, I have a gene fusion of two chromosomes that causes my bone marrow to flood my body with immature white blast cells that don't do their job of fighting disease or infection. Which in turn, leaves no red blood cells to carry oxygen and no platelets to clot if I did get cut. 

When the doctors at Akron General learned exactly what they were dealing with, I was transferred to Cleveland Clinic the next day. Now I don't know about you, but when doctors at a pretty large hospital say, "ummm yeah we don't know enough about that", it made me a bit nervous. 

And really, looking back, I had no idea how nervous I should be. 

But fortunately for me, that's when I got to meet Dr. Sobecks. Over the next four to five years I would test his knowledge, expertise and probably his patience with my shenanigans. But this man just kept coming back for more. 

But, another weird amusing thought: I do know I'd become a patient that he and his colleagues will reference for years to come. In the world of cancer, you have to find every silver lining you can.  

 Beau's family after that first cancer diagnosis. 

Life can change so very fast.