Power Play Against Leukemia (Page 3)

Smooth Sailing

For the next four months, Adam’s treatment went well. He continued to take his meds into the third and fourth phases of chemo: interim maintenance, where his dosage was reduced to give his body a chance to bounce back, and delayed intensification, where treatment became “hard-core” – the most intensive yet, Adam said.

He returned to classes at Mountain View High School in Loveland as a sophomore, and even through the most intensive phases continued to play hockey.

But the intensive chemotherapy was starting to take its toll. His weight had skyrocketed from 145 to nearly 190 on his 5'10 frame. 

He had lost 90 percent of his hair, Sherilyn said, and slept with his head off the bed to keep the rest of it from rubbing off.

Sherilyn remembers looking through old photos later and coming across a picture of someone she didn’t recognize.

“I said, ‘who is that fat bald man?’” she said. “Then I realized – Oh my gosh, it’s Adam! I sat down and cried.”

Adam also learned a lesson about who his friends were.

“I remember one time Adam came home from school and he was really hurt,” Sherilyn said. “He said, ‘Let’s face it, mom, bald and fat isn’t popular.’ And it was the truth.”

“I think it helped him not make fun of other people; up to that point, he was just as guilty.”

But after nearly a year of smooth sailing, Adam faced a bump in the road.

It was April 2002, and he was back in the hospital. It was his 16th birthday.

Supposed to Be a Good Day

The night before, the Cooks had a party to celebrate Adam’s last day of intensive therapy.

“Dr. Albano told us ‘Tomorrow is going to be this awesome day for you – your first day of maintenance.’ Instead of having a good day, Adam wound up in the hospital.”

That next day, his speech was slurred, and he had no control over one of his arms.

Adam had had a bad reaction to the chemo he received a few days before the party, Dr. Albano said.

“The chemo caused the blood vessels on one side of his brain to start collapsing, just like a stroke,” Sherilyn said.

Dr. Albano prescribed another major dose of prednisone – for 14 days.

“Adam just shut down emotionally,” Sherilyn said. “For the first time in all of this, he crashed.”  

He had worked so hard to lose the 40 pounds he had gained. He was eagerly anticipating a summer of working out to prepare for hockey without the fatigue he felt after taking intensive doses of chemo.

He told Dr. Albano he wouldn’t take the prednisone.

“She said, ‘well, you’re either paralyzed for life or you take it,’” Sherilyn said.

“Nobody likes it, but it’s really important for curing leukemia,” Dr. Albano said.

Three hours later, the Cooks were back at home. Sherilyn told Adam she was going to town for some groceries if anyone called.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell them I’m not dead yet!” Adam yelled down the stairs.

The old Adam was back.

One More Complication

Once Adam finished the dreaded prednisone, he began the maintenance phase. Drug dosages are decreased; the purpose of this phase is to kill any remaining leukemia cells that may regrow and cause a relapse.

A year flew by. And another six months. Adam’s chemo was going well. He was well on his way to remission. He was now 17, in his senior year of high school.

But he would have one more complication before it was all over.          

It was September of 2003. The Cooks had just returned from a family vacation to Disneyworld . Adam had started feeling bad in Florida ; he had pinkeye and “started throwing up the minute we got home,” Sherilyn said.

That night, he woke his parents up and told them he needed to go to the hospital.

“He had a virus of some sort, and that in combination with the chemo caused his pancreas to say ‘that’s enough’ and shut down,” Steve said.

That time, Adam spent three and half weeks at Children’s.

And even though he had missed school, he caught up quickly. He went from being a B student to getting straight A’s.

Nearly a year later, on Sept. 5, 2004, after three years and three months of weight gain, hair loss and complications, Adam finished his chemotherapy.

'Best Thing That's Ever Happened'

“We had so many celebrations,” Sherilyn said. The Cooks blended

Adam’s end-of-chemo party with his high-school graduation party.

Adam also celebrated at the hospital, where staff give each child who has completed chemo a party with a cake and a gift and sing “Happy Off Therapy,” Aldrich said.

Adam is now in partial remission; his symptoms are reduced, but he is not totally cured. He still must take an antibiotic on the weekends until the end of the year because his immune system will take three to four months to bounce back. He’ll still have to go to Children’s once a month for a year for followup, including blood draws. The second year, he’ll come once every three months; after that, he’ll need a checkup once a year for the rest of his life.

It’s “extremely unlikely” Adam’s cancer will return, Dr. Albano said. He “can be and do whatever he wants,” she said.

Adam is a freshman at a community college in Colorado Springs ; he plans to transfer to the University of Colorado-Colorado Springs next year. He works part-time as a server at Red Robin and lives with his roommate and best friend Chad .

But even after all he’s been through, Adam insists that getting leukemia is the best thing that ever happened to him.

“I see things from a different perspective,” he said. “I appreciate what I have now.”

Although Steve and Sherilyn aren’t sure it’s the best thing that ever happened to Adam, they are grateful – that Adam’s therapy is through, and to everyone at Children’s who made it happen. 

“They are so wonderful with kids there,” Steve said. “Dr. Albano forms a lifelong tie to these kids. She goes to their graduations. She knows she can make a difference in kids’ lives.”         

“They know how to love my son,” Sherilyn said. “Adam felt loved when he went there.”

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