BMT

“I realized that, instead of holding onto my negative feelings, I could turn it into something positive by giving back to people going through cancer just like John did.”
“I keep telling my kids, ‘I’m here for a reason.’” 

As with anything in life, when you’re going through something difficult, it can seem as if your whole world is going to end. It’s hard to see a positive future. But looking back, you realize that you got through it and everything is fine.

Twelve-year-old Emmett is big into hockey. He started skating when he was 4 and playing when he was 6. He had hockey hair. He skateboarded. He was outside playing sports every minute he could. Then when he was 10, he started to feel lightheaded and fatigued.

The advice I would give to other people going through cancer at my age is to never give up. Find something that can symbolize your journey and push you to keep fighting.

Nobody expects to hear the words “Your child has cancer.” Nobody is prepared. And in our family’s case, our son Emmett was diagnosed with leukemia in an emergency room, and treatment began that day in the ICU. We had no time at all to prepare, or even to comprehend it all at the time.

For the past three years, Barb Murak has been an unofficial messenger for Roswell Park patients who are recovering from a blood or marrow transplant (BMT). Pulling a handcart filled with art supplies, from time to time this member of the Creative Arts Team stops by an inpatient room to deliver a surprise. “Knock, knock!” she calls out. “You’ve got mail!”

A voice-activated speaker is proving very popular among patients in a pilot program in Roswell Park's Blood & Marrow Transplantation (BMT) Center.

If spring is best greeted in a garden then I was fortunate to be in Buffalo in the spring, while my husband Roman was receiving his BMT at Roswell Park. We had arrived in mid-March (just as winter was ending) for Roman to be admitted. I was staying at the nearby Kevin Guesthouse.

When Ian Cherico was rushed to the hospital, he was in a fight for his life. “Minutes later and I could have died,” he says. Ian was only 17 years old at the time, and his body was shutting down. It all started with a headache he couldn’t shake.

“There he is – there’s my brother!” says Phil Richiuso, spotting the #18 FC Dallas jersey during a Major League Soccer game on TV. Richiuso doesn’t know much about professional soccer. And #18, goalkeeper Chris Seitz, isn’t really related to the 57-year-old man from Erie, PA.