e-mail Dennis

e-mail Debra

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Updates

February 19, 2006
Ozer Monitors-
Although these updates are fewer and far between, it impresses me how many of you still make an effort to stay in the Ozer know – I’m deeply appreciative of this. All in all, our lives remain consistent, joyful and happily uneventful. We had a check-up with Dr. Antin on February 8th (every 2 months now), and everything is rock solid. His counts are terrific, and his hematocrit hit 40 for the first time since his illness, indicating full recovery and normal counts across the board. Another round of baby shots left him wiped (now I know why we get them as infants), but otherwise, he continues to do well. He is completely off any meds, including Prednisone, so he has had some rash flare-ups and a slight uptick in nausea (remnants of stomach GvH), but all is completely manageable. He continues to do yoga daily and truly looks great; it’s hard to imagine he was ever as sick as he was if someone is meeting him for the first time.
Physical fatigue still remains a factor, and I have to continuously fight off my own feelings of nervousness whenever I see him tired, slightly out of breath or falling asleep in front of the TV. His body has been through a massive ordeal and, although the restriction time for the transplant may be a year, the actual recovery time, both physically and mentally, is actually far longer. Paranoia does none of us any good, but sometimes it’s hard not be reactive despite my best efforts. As I’ve said before, I don’t dwell on it, but it creeps up on me some days, despite my best intentions.
My thanks to all of you who have so generously donated to Dana Farber and Dr. Antin’s research fund in honor of Dennis; their work is ongoing, crucial and greatly benefits us all. While our friends Evie, Tali and Melissa all continue to recover strongly after their transplants, our friend Michael has not been as fortunate; his experimental haplo graft has failed, and he and his wife have returned home after almost 3 months away from their children, to re-build his strength and figure out what the next step will be. I ask all of those who read this who are near Memorial-Sloan Kettering in New York to consider donating blood and platelets, as Michael is receiving frequent transfusions. Most importantly, if anyone has not joined either the NMDP registry, or the Gift of Life Bone Marrow Registry (Michael is of Eastern-European Jewish descent like Dennis, and thus far has not found a donor match), I urge you and ask you personally to do so; while finding a donor match will definitely most directly affect Michael, please don’t let a personal connection alone be the only impetus that compels you to be part of a potential miracle. While quite a few of us tested with thoughts of Dennis in our hearts, there were many who came forth, willing to donate, knowing nothing more about him other than an urgent appeal from his wife and words typed on a website. We are all a resource for hope, healing and recovery – share with gratitude. Debra.

January 23, 2006
Celebrations
Those who bless our lives:
Happy New Year and welcome to 2006! Our family took quite the detour to get to this particular new year, but we are enormously glad to see it, together and in recovery. Several weeks ago, we had an amazing surprise celebration for Dennis that I had been planning for several months. I fondly refer to it as ‘Dennis First Birthday Party’, in honor of the 1 year anniversary of his transplant, and the stem cells that gave him this miraculous second chance. We had almost 120 friends and family for dinner at our Temple, followed by a magnificent service where Dennis was Jewishly re-named in honor of his new life. It is a little known, but incredibly beautiful, Jewish tradition to bestow a new Hebrew name on an individual who survives a life-threatening illness, or a transplant, to honor this second chance at life. Dennis’ new Hebrew name is Chaim, which means ‘life’. No further explanation necessary. He was extremely surprised, tremendously moved and I can’t even describe the feeling of watching him re-connect with the people he loves after a year of so much confinement and isolation. While every person in attendance meant the world to us, we were particularly blessed by the company of Dr. Antin, Deborah Yolin (his PA at B&W) and Deborah Liney (the Manager of Unrelated Transplants at DFCI who found our two cords); our wonderful bud Toni Dubeau, Dr. Antin’s Transplant coordinator, who has been an unbelievable rock throughout, was sick and unable to attend. Profound gifts come from the most difficult circumstances. Thank you friends, family, our Rabbi and congregation for celebrating this incredible man and his new life with us.
Dennis continues to integrate into some of the more mundane processes of life that we take for granted. Soon after our celebration, we spent the afternoon over our friend’s Patti and Jonathan’s house, and then went out to eat. Sounds pretty normal and run-of-the-mill, but it was the first time in over a year and a half that we’ve been over someone else’s home and out to dinner as a family of 4. Very nifty. We have since been re-discovering the fine cuisine in and around our area, and Dennis took in a Celtics game the other day, albeit a bit nervously. He has been diligently going to daily Bikram hot yoga classes, and he looks strong and limber. Besides the obvious physical benefits of yoga, I think the heat helps him to further flush out a body that has been bombarded with all manner of meds, drugs and toxic chemo. Part of the reasoning behind a heated yoga practice is to sweat hard to get rid of toxins that get stored in the muscles; I can’t even start to imagine what kind of residue the chemo alone has left in his body, never mind the other more exotic drugs (rabbit ATG, anyone?). I mean, bless the stuff, as we have a cancer-free Dennis standing before us today, but this particular course of treatment is sure as hell about as harsh as it gets. His eye issues continue to be an annoyance but again, in the scheme of things, it is nothing that can’t be dealt with. Basic fears of getting ill again remain, but that is understandable and expected – I don’t think he will ever be able to go through life without some paranoia always lurking in the back of his mind about getting sick (cold, flu, sore throat, etc.) and how his body will react if and when, and I stress the if because the man’s constitution never ceases to amaze me, that occurs. He tires easily, and one particularly busy day of yoga, errands, followed by dinner and the Celtics game, completely wiped him out for the next few days. This was a lesson to learn to slowly pace himself and make sure to allow for ample rest in any given day. Always, although we try to keep it deeply buried in the back of our minds, there exists the specter of the leukemia perhaps returning, but that is in no way under our control. Rest assured, we DO NOT live in a place where these fears rule our life, and we continue to appreciate and savor the blessing of his wellness with every day that passes.
Our best wishes to all for a healthy, joyful 2006. Our continued love, strength and survivor’s karma to our friends Tali, Evie and Melissa, who are home and in recovery after their transplants, and to Susan and Michael, who inspire and fill us with awe at their strength, determination and courage. Stay strong and may the winds soon point you home in renewed health. Always in love and and strong spirit. Debra

 

December 14, 2005
One Year Transplant Check Up
Family & Friends-
Today was Dennis’ one year transplant check up, and I found myself sitting in the waiting area at DFCI with a very wide range of emotions running ‘round my brain. First and foremost, was the indescribable gratitude of being able to sit there in recovery and wellness, one very long year later. While I never allowed myself to doubt that this day would happen, conversely, I also wouldn’t allow myself to overly visualize it either. For the past year, I have only lived in the present and in the day, so “one year from now” was not in my vocabulary, But I also sat there today dealing with an overwhelming amount of sadness, for all the people in that room who are just starting to deal with their own catastrophic illnesses, for my friends Michael and Melissa, who are in the midst of extremely challenging and difficult battles with their own transplants, and for the overall lack of compassion I often see these days when it comes to those who remain cold and clueless about anything out of their own lives and comfort zone. Strangely, in the end, I welcome that sadness as a sign of a lesson well learned; may I never allow myself to settle for anything ever remotely resembling complacency ever again.
So, we were there, we are home and all is well. Dennis continues to cope with the chronic issues of his stomach GvH, which still may eventually resolve itself, and his ocular GvH, which is, more than likely, here to stay. He is now completely off his anti-rejection meds, and has received the first in what will be a two year series of his childhood immunizations, along with both flu and pneumonia shots. A final (one can only hope) bone marrow biopsy completed today’s theme of man as human pincushion. We will be back in two months to receive the next few immunizations, and will probably go to a schedule of check ups once every 3 months through 2006 (his second year). Due to some ongoing focus and memory difficulties (which are actually starting to be clinically referred to as chemo brain, if you can believe it), and continued fatigue, Dr. Antin is recommending that Dennis wait another 6 months to a year before beginning to tackle the task of resuming a part-time work schedule. He will also continue to see a psychosocial oncologist (nifty title, eh?), who will work with him to address both the focus/memory and emotional issues that are part and parcel of cancer survivorship. Learning to move forward in life after any type, but particularly, this type of cancer experience, is a task in and of itself. While the majority of his confinement issues have been ‘officially’ lifted, he continues to be strongly cautioned to remain vigilant about overly crowded situations, which translates into eating out (when he’s ready) and seeing movies only during off peak hours. Something tells me we are about to turn into Florida-type, early bird dining alta cacas (old people in Yiddish, excuse the bad stab at spelling to those in the Yiddish know). It has been so long since we have been able to go out and about together, that I really don’t care where, when and at what time; I’m thrilled at the simple thought of going to the movies together again, even if it’s at 12:00 noon on a Tuesday!
Love. Support. Groceries. Dinner. Humor. Friendship. Advice. An Ear. A Shoulder. Your Time. Your Presence. Our thanks for all of this and the so much more that each of you are to each of us. As of Dennis continues to shine his light for all the world to see, live in the moment and love as hard as you can. Debra.

November 29, 2005 (less than one month to go)
O Persuasion:
For the first time in a long time, I found myself approaching our monthly appointment with a bit more trepidation than usual. Dennis had been markedly more tired in the last few weeks than I had seen him in quite some time, and I found myself counting the days to his appointment so we could check his blood work and rule out any kind of setback. While I’ve intellectualized never taking for granted that his disease could potentially reappear, this was the first time that I felt that unsettled feeling re-inhabit my bones. I have to continue to come to terms with the truth that complacency is not ever going to be part of our lives in regards to Dennis’ health. But, cutting to the chase, all was perfectly fine with his blood work and overall condition 11 months out from transplant. I guess his tiredness is one of those “hey, fatigue happens” kind of things, and is expected and part of the process. Though recovering nicely, his immune system is still not up to snuff, and it will probably be at least another 6 months to a year and two years of receiving all of his childhood inoculations all over again, before his immune system would be at a place that could be comfortably deemed close to normal. His latest chimerism shows both cords still completely active, with a slight edge to the Milanese one, and Dr. Antin does not expect that to change at any point. Interestingly, Dennis will probably remain forever unique among cord transplant patients in terms of retaining both cords. DFCI has concluded that cords that are too closely matched to one another run an unacceptable risk of both being potentially rejected, as opposed to just one specifically, so DFCI will no longer perform cord transplants with closely matched units. And so, our man has contributed to the betterment of transplant science, and has made the world a safer place for cord transplantees to be everywhere. Such a guy.
On another note, if I’ve learned anything from this past year, it is that love and positive energy exists to be passed forward; there genuinely is connectivity to all of this, and it is something worth making the effort to embrace. Our friend Michael just received his stem cells last night for a transplant that is even more experimental than Dennis’; our friend Tali received her transplant just last Wednesday, and our friend Melissa is about to re-enter the hospital to attempt yet another, more difficult transplant after receiving one that has failed to engraft. A circle is an unending and powerful thing, so I ask you to take just a quick moment and send some of the same love and healing energy their way that you called forth for Dennis. It will be felt and you do make a difference.
Our next appointment, on December 14th, marks the one year anniversary of Dennis’ transplant (the actual transplant date is the next day, December 15th). I am amazed and thankful (though never quite speechless), that this milestone is here. In many ways, I feel as if we’re just beginning to absorb and process all that has gone on in our lives this past year. I heard that theme song from ‘Rent’ the other day with the line ‘how do you measure a year in the life?’, and that just about sums up where I am at when I look back on this year. I truly don’t yet know how to make measure of this year, other than the physical proof that Dennis is alive and our family is together. But I do know what the word grateful means, and I live it fully every day. Debra.

October 31, 2005
Dose Digitally Diggin’ Dennis:
It seems like it’s been quite the long stretch from the last update to this one that’s unfolding before your very eyes. Much has happened, and this planet of ours is experiencing a tremendous amount of pain and suffering. Seemingly endless hurricanes, massive earthquakes, Harriet Miers (sorry … I can only hold it back for so long) … those who refuse to take responsibility spew endless talk of Armageddon and ‘the end of all things’. After watching Dennis go through massive hell to be here with us today, I can guarantee you that I ain’t gonna hear any end of the world talk; we have much to be living for and I appreciate every grimy, glorious moment of it. Grown-up people take care of their precious belongings, be they our partner-in-life, our children, our mortal coil bling or the planet that just happens to sustain our flawed ol’ selves. Mother Earth is one badass bitch when pissed (and I say that with all due respect, believe me – she’s my hero) and there are no do-overs on this one. Then again, there I am SUV’n and gas guzzlin’ with the best of ‘em ... Lord, it’s tough to be self righteously liberal and a tribal princess at the same time!
But I digress as I used to in the tough days thankfully past. On to the subject matter that never ceases to move and motivate, entertain and inspire…
Dennis’ appointments this week with Dr. Massaro (pulmonary) and Dr. Antin both went well. His counts are remain strongly normal and his skin GvH flare-up has cleared thanks to the steroid cream Dr. Antin prescribed. He still continues to be unique among transplant patients in terms of retaining both cords, and we will know the most up-to-date status of his girls (we even have Dr. Antin referring to his two cords thusly) within a week or two. His pulmonary issues continue to slowly improve with each visit, but he still needs to remain on his inhaler medication, especially with flu season approaching. He wears his contact lenses as much as he can tolerate them, considering that fogging remains an issue, and I think we realize that, for the time being, it’s about as good as it’s gonna get, occularly speaking. Dr. Rosenthal continues to improve and tweak the lenses, so Dennis will be the recipient of the latest and greatest technology as advances become available.
One thing that has really struck me as December’s end of confinement date draws near (hopefully), is the marked uptick I’ve been seeing in Dennis’ level of stress and anxiety. He has had difficulty focusing and concentrating probably for 7-8 months now, and while he has learned to cope within the contained environment of our house, the thought of re-entering the world at large is proving to be somewhat scary and overwhelming for him. While I have no first-hand experience with anyone who has served during wartime, it almost reminds me of what’s referred to as post-traumatic stress syndrome. Lord knows this past year has changed me irrevocably, so I can’t even begin to fathom the full brunt of what Dennis has been through emotionally. It is enormously challenging indeed to find your footing and a place in this world after a year like he’s had. Actually, I would venture to guess that the emotional stuff may be just starting to surface for him. When you are diagnosed with a form of cancer where the cure is as extreme as a transplant, you go into an instinctual survival/crisis mode that leaves little time for any emotional reaction or processing. All efforts are focused on walking out of the hospital alive and engrafted. He has been talking for several months now to a terrific social worker, who gave him a head’s up that this type of reaction was both common and expected, but that makes it no less difficult to deal with. At the recommendation of Dr. Antin, he made an appointment with a psychiatrist at DFCI who specializes in transplant patients, and will be working with her to begin to address and tackle these issues in a way that’s proving difficult without professional help. It’s all a reminder that although the most traumatic part of the transplant and its complications may be safely over, there are still many bends and twists that this road can and will take for years to come.
All other members of the Goodman/Ozer clan, both two-legged and four, are doing well and doing their thing, be it school, music, barkin’ at butterflies (Pyrenees will bark at an ant crawling on the floor 4 houses down, but get selectively deaf at ‘come!’ and ‘be quiet!’) or practicing yoga. We have had new friends come into our life who are facing transplants in the near future, and our love, prayers and good energy go out daily to Tali, Melissa, Michael and their families and caregivers; we are always holding you close in our hearts. A special shout-out to Sam B. for bringing joy to my mother’s world, and thus mine as well by osmosis (or oz-mosys, as Dennis and I used to spell it). Our Jewish New Year recently past was beautiful, spiritual and a time to reflect with compassion on both the year that was and the year yet to come. More significantly, it was a deeply meaningful,
personal time for those in the Ozer know to celebrate, offer thanks and meditate lovingly on he who remains the soul of our family and our lives. Viva 5766 (that’s in Jewish years, y’all); party on Dennis O! Debra.
“Sometimes things don’t go, after all, from bad to worse.
Some years, muscatel faces down frost, green thrives,
the crops don’t fail, sometimes a man aims high and all goes well.
A people sometimes will step back from war;
elect an honest man, decide they care enough,
that they can’t leave some stranger poor.
Some men become what they are born for.
Sometimes our best efforts do not go amiss;
sometimes we do as we meant to.
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow
that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.”
Sometimes – Sheenagh Pugh (deepest thanks to Rabbi Keith Stern of Temple Beth Avodah for the inspiration)

September 28, 2005
The Return of the Little Girl from Deutschland
Yo, Dennis Doters:
Dennis’ monthly appointment was terrific, uneventful and informative, all at the same time and not necessarily in that order. His blood counts were completely normal (normal equals perfection in our post-transplant world), including his hematocrit, which is the last indicator to fully recover after a transplant. Interestingly enough, his skin GvH has been flaring up on and off over the last few months, and it would seem that it’s directly attributable to the German cord making a very pronounced comeback. His latest chimerism, (the study that defines the genetic composition of his bone marrow), revealed that the two cords are now just about evenly split at approximately 48% German to 51% Milanese, so the GvH flare-ups make sense as the German cord has been markedly fluctuating and gaining a far stronger hold in his bone marrow. So, if there was any remaining doubt that only one cord would still come to dominate eventually, this latest chimerism has convinced us, medical personnel and civilians alike, that both cords are here to stay and will be equally vital to a healthy, long, cancer-free life for Dennis. To that I say amen, and amen once again.
As a whole, his health-related issues remain mercifully few and minor. The bronchiectasis cough has abated considerably, and I’m very thankful that he never picked up the strep virus that hit both kids a few weeks back. I suppose that speaks volumes about his new, improved immune system, courtesy of his chick cords, and allows me a small sigh of relief, although we remain ever vigilant to infection. The scleral contact lenses continue to provide some measure of relief for the GvH-related dryness in his eyes, but they are far from the ‘perfect’ solution. They fog up constantly, since he can’t produce the natural tears that function as a ‘windshield wiper’ to keep the fluid in the lenses’ reservoir clear and fog-free. But, in the end, they are helpful, and he continues to see and work with Dr. Rosenthal weekly in order to keep on top of the condition of his GvH, and to make adjustments as necessary.
In summary, we all continue to thrive and jive here in the House of O. The cool, fall days are magnificent, the Red Sox–Yankees thang has, inevitably, karmically, rolled around again, down to the wire as it always does, my mama has a new friend, and Tom Delay just got indicted, proving the existence of what I like to call my version of ‘intelligent design’ (I believe it’s called ‘justice’). We handle our stress here with attempts at minimal yelling, stabs at maximum compassion and the always persistent reminder, dwelling in our various gray matter, of this time last year and just how desolate our existence could have been had another, colder road, been placed in our path. L’shana tova to all our Jewish tribal members. Om shanti, digital clan. Debra.
‘Now the moon is almost hidden, the stars are beginning to hide
The fortunetelling lady has even taken all her things inside
All except for Cain and Abel and the hunchback of Notre Dame
Everybody is making love or else expecting rain.
And the Good Samaritan, he’s dressing,
He’s getting ready for the show
He’s going to the carnival tonight on Desolation Row’
Desolation Row – Bob Dylan (yes, Dennis has seen the PBS special. He had actually purchased it on dvd before the special even aired.)

September 10, 2005
Pulmonary Update
Ozerly Ours:
Dennis had a terrific appointment with Dr. Massaro at DFCI on Thursday. He repeated the full battery of breathing tests that were initially administered several months ago and, this time, they were vastly improved. Additionally, Dr. Massaro repeated his chest cat scan, revealing that the signs of bronchiectasis were measurably diminished. That is very good news as the return to school has already produced its first ‘casuality’. Right on schedule it almost seems, Jake came down with a pukey stomach/sore throat bug, and was out of school for two days. But Dennis’ immune system seems fairly strong and resilient by now, so I don’t expect him to catch anything as a result.
Dennis also received his final pair of properly fitted lenses from Dr. Rosenthal, and is in the process of getting used to them and breaking them in. They are a world apart from conventional contact lenses, and the fact that his eyes do not produce any lubricating tears poses an ongoing challenge in terms of keeping them clear of foggy, protein build-ups. The things we take for granted!! But I expect that, after this initial adjustment period, they will provide a world of benefit by keeping his eyes moist, lubricated and comfortable. I keep thinking that, if this is the ‘worst’ of the aftereffects of the transplant, we can gladly deal with it!

On a completely different note, I need to rectify a faux pas I made in my last update. As you may have probably noticed if you read all the way through my missives, I love music and find it deeply comforting to find words composed by far greater poets than I to summarize the gist of what I write about in any given update (above and beyond Dylan as well). I’m very sensitive to crediting the correct songwriter to the lyrics quoted (no lawsuits for me), but I blew my perfect record last update with the lyrics from Louisiana 1927. This song was written and originally performed by the brilliant Randy Newman, not Aaron Neville. Aaron recently performed it on CNN’s mini-telethon, and I had that performance in mind when I later composed the update. I’ve quoted the second verse below, and it’s both truly chilling and all too predictable how we human beings consistently allow history to repeat itself, with ever more disastrous results. And religious creationists actually seek to promote something called ‘intelligent design’ in schools. Lordy be!
And, on that note, that is about all the medical update news from Goodman/Ozer world these days. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly 9 months can pass, and how much better our world looks at any given moment from this time last year. A pure definition of happiness can be an elusive thing in lives that are excessively crammed with over-achievement, over-work and the daily struggle to stay on the dictated path of the so-called American Dream. But, when you strip away all of the bullshit (and there is so much), surviving cancer the way Dennis has, and being alive to stand healthy in a beautiful New England fall, now there stands joy in its most intentional, authentic form. Breathtaking. Debra.
From Randy Newman’s lips to Dubya’s ears –
‘President Coolidge came down in a railroad train,
With a little fat man with a note pad in his hand.
The President say “Little fat man isn’t it a shame,
What the river has done to this poor crackers land?”
Louisiana, Louisiana,
They’re trying to wash us away, they’re trying to wash us away …
‘Louisiana 1927’ – Randy Newman
Extra Added Bonus Lyrics –
When the wind blows down this hard,
Many a bond is broken.
See the water lie on the ground
From where the heavens opened
Lord, how will you get through this night
With your dreams departed?
And who alone will comfort you?
Only the broken hearted.
‘Broken Hearted’ – Eric Clapton and Greg Phillinganes

September 4, 2005
Marked by Hurricane Katrina
Friends in O:
Where does one start, linguistically speaking, when faced with a catastrophe the level of which we all witnessed last week? People so often have said to me that Dennis’ illness and subsequent fight for recovery helped them put their own difficult times in perspective. Well, this past week put our lives, despite all that we have gone through in the past year, well into perspective, and again has driven home the tenuous quality of the word ‘fortunate’. For once, I will spare all of you the political assignations of blame that I, perhaps too often, throw around. There are many, far more qualified than I, who will assume that role in the days, weeks and months to come, as this massive failure is ripped apart and dissected. To do so would only belittle and demean a level of suffering that I can’t even, thank God, begin to relate to and, like most, thought nearly impossible to ever occur in the U.S. What an enormous betrayal of all that we have strived so hard to achieve.
Dennis continues recovering remarkably. Although it will still be quite some time before he is able to lead a normal ‘professional’ life, he has had his company, Depictives, moved to a Needham location literally right around the corner from our house. After a year of reconnecting with our children’s day-to-day in a manner in which our working lives never previously allowed, we are determined to keep family front and center, and will stay close as, for the first time ever, we will not be enlisting the aid of a nanny or babysitter in their care. Of course, we are tremendously fortunate (there’s that word again) to have an unparalleled support system in my mother. I honestly don’t believe that I would have survived this last year with my sanity and compassion intact if not for her. We are never too old to need our mother’s love and nurturing! I will also stay close at hand and continue to work out of the house, and do not anticipate returning to an office environment on a full time basis. I am deeply blessed to have phenomenal support in my Customer Service Coordinator, Kristen and in my Production Manager, Glen, at DGI-Invisuals. They have allowed me to make Dennis and the kids my guilt-free priority as I have endeavored to function professionally from home.
On the Ozer medical front, Dennis continues to work with Dr. Perry Rosenthal to fit his contact lenses so that they are comfortable and beneficial as intended, and he will have a pulmonary check-up this Thursday to ascertain the condition of the bronchiectasis. With cold and flu season fast approaching, it becomes imperative to keep this well under control. The kids and I will also do our part by getting flu shots as soon as they become available, and continuing to make hand-washing THE cool, extreme sport here in our neighborhood.
At this point, with the end of the month marking Dennis’ ninth month post-transplant, we don’t anticipate any momentous medical happenings as we approach that December 15th one year anniversary. I honestly take absolutely nothing for granted, and never will, but I can just as sincerely admit that we in Goodman/Ozer world do breathe ever so slightly easier these days, and it ain’t just from our yoga!! Breathing and bowing. Debra.
‘What has happened down here, is the winds have changed,
Clouds roll in from the north and it started to rain.
It rained real hard, and it rained for a real long time,
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline.
The river rose all day, the river rose all night
Some people got lost in the flood, some people got away all right
The river had busted through, clear down to Placker Mine
Six feet of water in the streets of Evangeline.
Louisiana, Louisiana, they’re trying to wash us away,
They’re trying to wash us away ……
‘Louisiana 1927’ – Aaron Neville

August 23, 2005
8 Month Well Dennis Check Up
Opportunistically Ozer:
We can sum up today’s appointment at DFCI in one short, yet very sweet sentence: rock solid blood counts. Our appointments are becoming so blissfully uneventful that Dennis is going into Jewish kvetch mode in an attempt to fill up the time and bask longer in the medicinal presence of Dr. Antin and Toni Dubeau, magnificent Empress of Transplant Coordinators. To that happy end, I have nothing really new to report. They did draw enough blood today for another chimerism study (which determines what percentage of the two cords comprise his immune system), so we should know in about 2 weeks whether Germany continues her squatter status in his bone marrow, which I suspect will be the case. They will not perform another bone marrow biopsy (unless some unforeseen medical change requires it), until Dennis’ one year post-transplant anniversary, sometime after December 15th. So, all indicators continue to point to a flourishing, growing, recovering immune system, which makes for a very happy Ozer Nation indeed.
Since we had time left after our appointment, we decided to stop by Brigham and Women’s Hospital to visit floors 5B, the oncology floor during Dennis’ induction chemo treatment and 4C, his transplant floor, whose blueprint and layout will remain forever embossed on my brain. I still feel as if I could do that ‘long walk’ from DFCI to B&WH in my sleep, but was oh so nicely surprised when we began the trot down the remembered drab beige halls, only to see the walls covered in a gorgeous sky blue, with life-size birds of every imaginable species carrying herbs and medicinal plants in their beaks, being brilliantly hand-painted on the long wall surfaces. The flooring had been colorfully changed out to match the mural work, and curved, pale gray lighting fixture panels on the ceiling, threw soft, muted light onto those passing through. It was truly outstanding, and I had to stop to let the artists, still diligently at work finishing the remaining hallways, know how much their efforts will impact the people who will walk those hallways, several times a day for weeks, and, sometimes, months, in every conceivable emotional state. Trust me, those hallways were fairly depressing and somewhat spooky, especially in the evening, when you’re heading back to the DFCI parking garage after a draining day of watching your loved one go through all sorts of transplant-related hell. Way to go, B&W; we are just all about renovations here at Ozer Fan Club Central!
Meanwhile, I of course realize that our digital-graphics-employed readership is cringing at the mere mention of old school paint and brush versus genuine 3M vinyl/wallpaper product. Therefore, graphics girls and boys, you will be happy and proud to know that our hero did indeed point out to these poor, young artists, there for hours on end with paint palette and bird photographs in hand, copying ornithological minutia under harsh staging lights, that it would have been far more economical to produce the birds avec Illustrator, Photoshop and digitally-produced wall covering. Yes, the King o’Vinyl has your back!
Once at our ultimate destination, we had a chance to see Colm on 5B and Soheir on 4C, both of whom kvelled mightily over and ran their fingers through the dark, Spielberg-esque curly locks. I think they were both blown away by how incredible Dennis looked, especially Soheir who only ever saw him thin, gaunt and bald. Though Dennis was far from his most healthy and radiant self when he started induction chemo, he still entered the hospital at a normal weight and with some semblance of hair, albeit shaved. I have to say, there was something especially meaningful about having Soheir see him strong and in recovery, and it was a blessing, in and of itself, to just see and hug her again. She will always be my own personal angel whenever my mind drifts back to the experience of the transplant and Studio 54. Her beautiful, calm countenance and loving spirit was my oasis of calm during the most frightening moments of the transplant protocol. Best of all, after our welcoming visit, we got to turn around, leave, and go home to our life, in health and in contentment. My heart, my spirit, my prayers go out to the patients and families that were behind those closed doors with the caution signs today on floor 4C. We are part of a fraternity of extraordinary miracles, in the human beings and medicine that comprises this place of vulnerability, sometimes pain but, ultimately, recovery and healing. Our love, also, to the staff at B&WH and DFCI that we missed at today’s visit, but are, forevermore, in our Ozer Nation Hall of Fame – Kathleen and Lisa on 5B and Deborah Yolin, Kendra Church, Daria and Robin on 4C.
In other medical news, Dennis continues the fitting process for his contact lenses, although his eyes continue to feel mightily improved ever since the puncta plugs came out; I do believe that our Mass Eye & Ear days are officially over. The bronchial cough is still hanging in stubbornly, but we have an appointment with Dr. Massaro on September 8 and will keep on top of it until it’s under control. Boys are great, school beckons on the 30th (another summer gone), fall is soon upon us (my favorite season), finally, someone is protesting the war (had to say it), the Red Sox are in 1st place and Bronte is on the mend, so, as those T shirts with the stick figures so aptly put it, life is good. Rejoicing in life’s average joe rhythms. Debra.

August 20, 2005
Anniversary Shout Out
Ozer-ly Attuned:
Dennis received a package today with a letter and some CDs from one of the many terrific people who worked for us when our company, Invisuals, was still operating. She started the letter by saying ‘What a difference a year makes’ (thanks Kathie O. and congratulations on your beautiful baby boy!). Yes it has indeed been a year to the day when we walked into Dr. Stone’s office at Dana Farber and received the news that Dennis had leukemia. When I check the site, my ‘Letter From Debra’ is dated August 20, 2004, marking the first time that this digital scribe hit the internet T1-waves. As I sat outside today watching Dennis and the boys play basketball, LaBronte by my side (her leg is doing just fine, thanks to all who have asked), I realized how profoundly fortunate we are, were and continue to be, and how genuinely sacred each day is that passes our American nuclear family unit’s way. I find tremendous joy and laughter in the moments we all spend together and in every second we‘re granted in the Dennis zone (and this after 8 months of extreme togetherness!). The time will always remain in my mind when I actually had to deal with the possibility of our life without his endlessly inspiring, frantic, fun, fabulous presence, so we all work extra hard to hold him near, safe and hopefully very distant from any place other than close to those who love him. All is well; stay tuned for more after Tuesday’s appointment. Having an Ozer Moment. Debra

August 10, 2005
Eye Appointment, The Sequel
Followers of O:
And so our hero went to see Dr. Rosenthal for his follow-up appointment to get fitted for his contact lenses. As those of you who wear contact lenses probably know, the first time someone sticks those little pieces of plastic into your eyes, it feels strange and far from comfortable. Even if you’ve been chained to coke bottle glasses your whole life (like yours truly), it’s still difficult to really enjoy the freedom of seeing your eyes unencumbered for the first time. You’re too busy tearing up like crazy and feeling like something is stuck in your eye; it takes awhile to get adjusted to the point of not noticing that they’re there at all. Throughout the transplant and its accompanying miseries, Dennis has always been beyond stoic; in comparison with the worst of the nausea and the gastro issues, his ocular GvH has been low on the totem pole of pain and discomfort. Thus, the normal person may have been squealing their ass silly complaining about the dryness and pain in their eyes, but at least in my assessment, he puts it all into perspective and perceives it as a fairly minor irritation in the overall scheme of things. Meanwhile, I think Dr. Rosenthal and his assistant (who does most of the fitting), are used to patients with severe, searing ocular pain, who instantly raise their hands in praise and shout hosannahs to the sky when the lenses are placed in for the first time, because the relief can actually be that immediate for them (I mean absolutely no disrespect to any of these patients when I say this, by the way. When you are in that much pain, that kind of reaction to the lenses is completely understandable and warranted). However, with Dennis, he found that the weird, highly uncomfortable feeling of having a foreign body in his eye seemed to be grabbing his attention more so than the let up of the severe dryness that accompanied the insertion of the lenses, a factoid that he kept mentioning to Dr. Rosenthal when asked about his level of relief. Unfortunately, this served to annoy Dr. Rosenthal, as did the problems his assistant was having fitting a lens to Dennis’ left eye, prompting much harumphing and a proclamation of “Maybe your suffering is not enough to warrant my contact lens device”. Now, our ever-tolerant hero would say to me “Aw, don’t make a big thing of it; they’re nice people and they didn’t mean it like it sounded”, but, one of these days, I am going to slap the shit out of one of these doctors so they have a clue about just how obnoxious and inappropriate they can sound. Excuse the venting ala bad language, but Lordy, it sure gets difficult sometimes not to get a bit self righteously outraged. Amazing how ones’ opinion can change in a week; either that, or I’m getting schizophrenic in my old age. The warts and all truth, folks – that’s what you get when you visit dennisozer.com - LOL! But, the moral of the story is, Dennis was ultimately fitted for the lenses (turns out his left eye is not symmetrical to his right, thus the fitting problem) and, hopefully, they will provide the proper measure of relief to ease his exact amount of personal ocular sufferage (yes, I know this word is somewhat ‘made up’ but, believe me, it makes sense right now).
All else in Ozer/Goodman world is as it should be. Dog is healing, man is on the mend, boys are healthy, my mother is good. Therefore, all is right with the world in our house (I can’t say all is right with the world in general, as war, terrorism, right wing conservatives and George W. Bush still stalk the corridors and haunt my dreams). But, good health and my family is my simple but beautiful formula for happiness these days and I fully delight in sharing it all with you. Digitally diligent. Debra.

August 2, 2005
Ocular GvH Update
One Nation Under O:
After a Monday that included Bronte tearing her anterior cruciate ligament (doggy ACL), requiring major restorative surgery, and Jakob getting whacked in the head with a stick during Lacrosse camp (he’s just fine, but notice the order in which I reported these events), I found myself approaching Dennis’ eye doctor appointment with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. What a total pleasure it was meeting Dr. Perry Rosenthal, founder of the Boston Foundation for Sight and the Scleral Contact Lens that will, more than likely, become the answer to Dennis’ ocular GvH woes. Wonderful staff, terrific bedside manner, quiet, private practice, and a two minute ride from our house to his office which just can’t be beat. Interestingly enough, his first suggestion was to remove the four puncta plugs since, despite the sound theory behind their insertion, it was his experience that they often end up creating an entirely new set of problems. Upon some detailed questioning by him, we realized that Dennis’ eyes were far more uncomfortable-feeling with the plugs in place, so, out they all came. Dennis’ eyes instantly felt markedly better, and Dr. Rosenthal suggested allowing them to rest for a week on the outside chance that they might not require further intervention. But despite this small step in the right direction, he was of the opinion that, in the long run, Dennis would still end up needing his Scleral Lenses in order to avert further difficulties. With no lubricating tear production at all, and extreme surface dryness that is visibly noticeable upon examination, it’s only a matter of time before the ocular GvH results in major problems for him. We’re scheduled to go back next Tuesday for a re-check and for what I feel will probably end up being the initial fitting for the lenses (a time-consuming, multi-visit process). Meanwhile, being the information hound that I am, our visit motivated me to do some further research on Dr. Rosenthal, and he truly is both a brilliant researcher and a remarkable, giving human being. His foundation is doing invaluable, cutting edge work and his achievements are numerous and the very definition of innovative. As a non-profit organization, he provides the Foundation’s services at no cost to patients who are in financial need; no one is ever turned away due to lack of funds. To put this in perspective, Blue Cross, Blue Shield is THE only provider who has agreed to provide full fee coverage for the lenses and their associated fitting services, and this just since the spring of 2005. I strongly encourage you to visit his website, www.bostonsight.org, to learn more about the foundation and this extraordinary man. We so often debate what particular qualities best embody the ideal of the words ‘hero’ and ‘role model’; I would venture to say that Dr. Rosenthal humbly conducts his life and his work exemplifying the epitome of both.
Other than our eye update, all continues onward and upward. Dennis is feeling well overall, looks great and continues to gain healthy weight and muscle mass through yoga, strength training, speed walking and his long walks with LaBronte Arroyo, which will now, unfortunately, have to be curtailed as she heals and does her own physical therapy for the next 3-4 months (you may be thinking “like she really needed this?”, but I love my dog and would move mountains for her!). Our next appointment with Dr. Antin is at the end of the month, so I’m sure more fascinating bone marrow news will be forthcoming at that time. Meanwhile, I continue to take care of Dennis, his two girls, our two boys and Bronte, the Gimpy Girl, so boredom and lack of stimulation never rears its’ ugly head in my world! The scenery shifts and is ever changing, but as long as it continues to bring a healthy Dennis (and Bronte’s leg heals well), I can deal. Always Debra, defender of man/girl, boy, and canine.
‘Let's go raise a toast to the days ahead
You can't take it with you when you're dead
You might as well enjoy it now instead
So, live it up, we can go crazy
Live it up, you and me baby
Live it up, live it up, live it up
We're flying high, don't wanna come down
We'll let 'em know, all over town and
Live it up, live it up, live it up’
John Legend – (you guessed it) ‘Live it Up’

July 25, 2005
Monthly Appointment(s)
O-Zoners:
We had our 7 month visit with Dr. Antin on Wednesday, and all continues remarkably well. Dennis blood counts remain on pointe and we truly could not ask for better progress. The whole process will never lose its sheen of the miraculous for me, and I send a prayer up to whatever supreme power makes our brains capable of discovering and implementing such way strong good medicine. Dennis still continues to present both cords and it looks like he may be the first double-cord transplant patient to remain that way permanently. Dr. Antin has been doing his researchin’ thang since our last appointment, and has figured out that the two cords are so closely matched to one another (they are a 4 out of 6 match to Dennis, but a 5 out of 6 match to each other), that neither cord is capable of completely dominating and eradicating the other. According to Dr. Antin, they are the two most closely matched pair of cords that they have ever transplanted with, as most cords are a 4 out of 6 match to each other, and the result seems to be an immune system comprised of the best of both cords. So, while the Milan cord continues to be the stronger of the two, the German cord will continue to play its part in keeping Dennis healthy and disease-free. I welcome both of his girls with open arms, lots of fun bling and a Neiman Marcus credit card.
Although his ocular GvH hasn’t become notably worse, it still remains a continuing problem. The majority of the puncta plugs that were inserted last time for tear retention have dropped out (which is common for a transplant patient), and his eyes continue to be extremely dry, leaving him open to greater risk of infection and vision complications. The puncta plugs were replaced yet again, but they may have to step up treatment to something more aggressive (cauterization of the puncta tubes) if the majority of the plugs don’t remain in place between now and our next appointment in 3 months. Since the word ‘cauterization’ never evokes warm, happy feelings, we may seek a second opinion with another ophthalmologist who specializes in ocular GvH, and has created a custom contact lens of sorts that works by keeping the surface of the eye lubricated. Bonus brownie points: this doctor happens to be located locally in Needham, and is in private, versus clinic, practice. Whether we will be able to skip to the contact lens stage without first following the progression of the cauterization step will remain to be seen when we have our appointment.
The bronchiectasis has started to improve slightly. With a few more strategic tweaks of his medications, Dr. Massaro hopes to control it to a point where it is no longer an issue and Dennis’ persistent cough subsides completely. Although the condition is often chronic, unlike the ocular GvH, it can resolve itself over time and, hopefully, with closely monitored treatment, it will do just that.
On a personal note, we picked up the offspring from camp on Sunday, so we anticipate our days of slug-like laziness will become fast and furious once again until school time rolls back around. We tried to offload them at their overnight camp for the rest of the summer, but they just weren’t havin’ it (such good parents, huh?!). In keeping with the cyclical nature of these things, the days keep coming and roll away to the next one; and we here, in the Ozer/Goodman household that often feels as if it houses a newborn, cherish each one that does its thing without incident or trauma. As I type this, my friend Evie is just about to receive her donor stem cells on floor 4C at Brigham and Women’s; I wish her Godspeed on her journey to wellness and swift wings for those stem cells to speedily find their way to her bone marrow. Thanks and blessings to our family, friends, doctors, healers and community for our 7 months past and each sacred tick of the clock to come. This world of ours often brings me to the depths (we shoot to kill, then say “oops, my bad” when we get the wrong guy), but I look at Dennis, get very humbled, and know it’s always worth opening your heart with passion and caring enough to engage in the moment and the fight when you are called. Live with honor y’all. Debra

July 9, 2005
Summer Minions:
And, so the offspring have made the pilgrimage to overnight camp and are no longer, at least temporarily, in our midst. We have received our first communiqués from both of our heir apparents; Adam’s in particular feels like it’s straight out of ‘Things to Say to Parents While Away at Camp 101’. Thus follows the text of his first ‘letter’: “Having fun at camp. Hope to see you soon (like he won’t?). See you later.” I grieve that out of my florid, verbose, overly descriptive, yet highly imaginative loins, came this. I have much work to do.
Dennis continues to flourish although the week since the kids have departed the Needham coil has left us both low on energy and in need of sleep. Of course, not understanding psychiatry like Tom Cruise, I can only postulate that the past year has had a major cumulative effect on us, both physically and emotionally, and it’s all hitting us now that we have the downtime to let it. So, since the time presents itself to be able to fully relax without deadlines and destinations, we are taking full advantage, resting mightily, doing little and giving in to our inner-coach potato slugs. All of Dennis’ GvH remains well under control and we haven’t had any flare-ups of the existing conditions or anything that might be categorized as new. Meanwhile, the hair keeps growing, his strength keeps returning and progress is steady and apparent to all. I think, in some ways, the next 6 months will be the most difficult for him. With his increased strength and energy, has come the temptation to break out of his suburban purgatory and venture to exotic locations that are still, for all intents and purposes, verboten. It has become all the more challenging to remind him that, although he feels well, it’s still not okay to visit places indoors at any length. He still needs to remain limited to our house and fast jaunts to pick up meds or emergency items (ex: cream for coffee) only when necessary (as in when Debra’s not around). Luckily, along with summer, comes that grand old tradition of the outdoor barbecue, so we have been able to get him out and amongst humans at several ‘cues that we’ve been invited to recently (my thanks to the Solomonts’ and the Coblenzs’). I’m venturing out on work appointments and to dinner/lunch/brunch/concerts with friends with greater frequency but, as much as I love my posse, I miss going out with Dennis and it’s strange to go to a party/social engagement and not have him at my side. He is, after all, the life of any party, and I always feel like the poor substitute off the bench who knows he can never equal the reception that LeBron James or Shaq would have received. Sometimes only a sports analogy can express the pain as it’s felt at the moment!
Our next appointments with Team Dennis, (Dr. Antin and our beloved Transplant Coordinator Toni Dubeau; Dr. Massaro in Pulmonary and Dr. He-Who-Shall-Remain-Nameless at ME&E), takes place on July 20th and 21st, so no real medical news until then. We just groove on the offspring-less dog days of summer, lavish all of our attention on Bronte, watch much baseball, gnash our teeth and bite our nails at the news politique each night (Sandra Day O’Connor – how could you?) and hope against hope that someday, George W. might get a clue (one might call that living in a fantasy world). Lastly, for those of you who turn blue (or should I say red?) from my political espousements, lighten up. I always save ‘em for the end and I don’t post nearly as frequently! So chiz-ill (as Snoop would say), soak up the sun in all your SPF 30 glory and set your summer sails. Debra.
**** Remembering my father, Herbert, who passed away 6 years ago today, we celebrate his life and honor his memory by living each day with joy, integrity, humor and love. You will always be my main man, Dad.****

June 21, 2005
June’s Monthly Appointment
Those in the Ozer Way:
All news is good news in your place for all things O. Today’s appointment was uneventful which, in the world of cancer and transplants, translates to very good indeed. All of his blood work continues to hold steady and present normally, and the GvH-related issues, while annoying, are under control and considered minor in the scheme of things. Defying all odds, our German cord continues to burrow in and exhibit that good ol’ German obstinacy, and has actually gained a percentage point or two in the ratio battle with Milan. It’s starting to look like Dennis may permanently become one of a kind in the world of double-cord stem cell transplants (only about 200 strong worldwide) by having the only immune system comprised of two different cords. Dennis, Milan and Germany all living in harmony doing the bone-marrow tango – can you say schizophrenia? I mean was always hoping to find a male who had the manly-man testosterone thing going on, but could also offer nurturing and support just like my grrrlllfriends. The lengths we women will go to fulfill our selfish needs! Additionally, in cellular analysis news, it seems that our lone male cell has fled the scene or been forced to evict the premises so, in summary, our man is all woman 24/7. Almost gives you the shivers, doesn’t it?
In the world of proselytizing, have I mentioned recently that Dennis would be in a very bad place right now if not for the resolute brilliance of the great minds and researchers at Dana Farber? Without launching into one of my famous, fearful lectures, I would just like to let our Digital Illuminati know that the annual Pan-Mass Challenge ride is coming up in August. Our friends Jack Ford and Amy MacDougall will be riding and raising money for Dana Farber to fund the research that helped Dennis and will continue to help thousands in their battles with cancer. For those of you who are not familiar with the PMC, the following will give you a brief synopsis of the ride and it’s goals:
‘The PMC, presented by the Boston Red Sox, is the nations first fundraising bike-a-thon and today raises more money than any other athletic fundraising event in the country. It is also the most cost efficient. With nearly 97 cents of each dollar raised going directly to the Jimmy Fund, the PMC has contributed more than $122 million to lifesaving cancer care and research at Dana Farber Cancer Institute since its 1960 inception. On August 6 and 7, 2005, nearly 4,000 cyclists will travel six different routes, logging between 89 and 192 miles over one or two days, through 46 scenic Massachusetts towns from Sturbridge and Wellesley to Bourne and Provincetown. Their goal will be to raise $21 million. For more information about the PMC, call 800-WE-CYCLE or visit www.PMC.org.’
Although both Jack and Amy ride each year in tribute to many loved ones and to find a cure for all, they will be riding this year in particular in tribute to Dennis. As I have said to both of them personally, deep blessings often come from a place of tremendous pain. Their love, support and friendship during our most difficult and lonely times was immeasurable and they are both a precious blessing in our lives. As you read these updates and appreciate all that Dennis has meant in your lives, please consider a donation in his honor to either Amy or Jack, and be a part of the miracle that is the Dana Farber Cancer Institute. To donate –
1. Go to the PMC website, www.PMC.org
2. Click on the ‘eGifts’ button in the top left corner
3. Type in either ‘Amy MacDougall’ or ‘John Ford’ (please note that Jack’s profile is listed under ‘John Ford’ NOT ‘Jack Ford’) to bring up their profiles.
4. Click ‘Add Rider’ to add their name to your donation list.
5. Follow directions from there to donate by credit card.
6. Should you wish to make your donation in tribute to Dennis (or anyone for that matter), please feel free to do so in the section provided in the online form. If you would also like to let us know that you made a donation, our address is: 34 William Street, Needham MA 02494. The PMC will send us a letter acknowledging your donation and we will love and appreciate you even more than we do already!
In other Goodman/Ozer news, Adam and Jakob are through with school for the year and are headed off to overnight camp at the end of the month. It’s been a hell of a year for all of us and I’m glad they’ll have the chance to run wild and do the camp thing. Dennis and I will also appreciate the ‘alone time’ and I will definitely groove on the feeling of having a break from the after school activities shuffle. Yes, summertime is a beautiful thing. And so we roll into the next season, life is good and0, as a friend of mine so eloquently put it just recently, despite it all, I still can’t wait to see what’s thrown at me when I round the next bend. L’Chaim, baby. Debra.

June 13, 2005
Those in the Ozer Know:
All continues on the onward and upward path for he of the curly black hair and sensitive temperament. We have rashes, eye issues and coughs, but it is all minor, manageable and still feels like a miracle as each day passes relatively uneventful and with continued good health. We had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Massaro in pulmonary last week, and the bronchiectasis remains present, but definitely more stable. His breathing tests, while still not quite back to normal levels, has improved since our last visit, and the follow-up CAT scans revealed no evidence of pneumonia or serious infection. Dr. Massaro upped the amount of steroid in the inhaler a bit, prescribed Claritin for some post nasal drip and expects that the bronchiectasis will be fully under control by our next visit in 6 weeks. Next up is Dr. Antin on the 21st.
Our friend Jay Feinberg from the Gift of Life came to Boston with Barby Sloven (GOL’s Associate Director and dog lover supreme) to oversee work for his umbilical cord storage facility in Worcester and to pay a visit to both Evie and Dennis. Evie, Sari and I joined them for dinner and then, since Dennis was obviously unable to join us, Jay and Barby traveled to the lovely suburbs of Needham to meet him at the house. Jay had met Dennis in his hospital room while he was undergoing the initial round of induction chemo, but Dennis was extremely sick and drugged-up on that day and could barely recall the meeting. Barby’s only exposure to Dennis was from a tape we made for the GOL gala that I attended, where I did all the talking and he sat there staring into the camera, blinking blankly (got quite the laugh from those at the Gala who saw it, he did). So, somewhere along the way, they got the misconception that our O was a ‘quiet, shy kinda guy’ and I realized these poor, unsuspecting people had really never been, and were about to get, exceedingly, utterly Ozer-ized (an experience so many of us will recall with the warm fuzzies). I did warn them of the true nature of the Ozer during the ride to the house, but it is something that can only be fully understood when viewed and experienced in all its 3-D, live-in-the-flesh glory. Beyond their Ozer-expozure, I was so pleased that Jay and Dennis had the opportunity to sit down, talk and compare, 6 months post-transplant. Jay is one of the most remarkable human beings I know and the impact of his work is immeasurable, but even more than that, he is a huge inspiration to us and, as a 10 year transplant survivor, represents Dennis’ future (God willing) more than anyone else we have met throughout this experience. The post transplant complications and GvH of an umbilical cord transplant is comparable to those of the 5 out of 6 antigen, mismatched transplant that Jay underwent. When they compared notes, there were indeed a lot of similarities (stomach GvH, skin rashes, etc). It gave us hope for what Dennis could expect several years down the road in regards to both the obvious – survivial – and the possibility of eventual resolution of the chronic GvH issues. While both of us tend to live very much in the moment and refuse to obsess about any major life projections (no 5 year business plans here), our life is still brought to you by the power of hope and Jay represents 10 years of it made real. And that, my friends and family, is what it’s all about and about all we can ask for on any given day. So, until you next stroll in our digital direction …. keep it real and show your love to those who make it real for you. Debra.
****** Welcome to the world Emma Alana*******

June 3, 2005
Greetings O Municipality:
All is well here in the land of Ozer/Goodman a few days after celebrating Dennis’ 57th. As it’s difficult to go out and party with a transplant patient, we just had a mellow good time at home as a deliriously happy, nuclear-type suburban family unit. If you ask me, biased though I may be, he is one amazing, splendiferous 57 year old and is looking mighty damn fine in all his curly-headed glory! Click here (ain’t technology marvelous?) to view the latest, greatest pics of our wonder man; I slaved long and hard applying cutting edge lighting effects to get them curls to really pop off the screen and into your house; be sure to ooh and aah accordingly and let your hair envy all hang out!
We ended up making an unplanned visit to DFCI this morning to investigate a strange rash that I first noticed last Thursday and is stubbornly refusing to go away. It looks like it is, once again, GvH related but nothing to be overly concerned about, and might actually be representing the last stand of Germany, as they often see a GvH rash flare-up when one cord is ready to follow its domination destiny (how very Star Wars), take over 100% and kick the other cord to the curb. We should know for sure if he is pure Milano at our next appointment on June 21st, when they will have the chimerism labs back that provide that particular information. Meanwhile, we did get the results of the latest bone marrow biopsy as long as we were there, and his bone marrow is clean, in remission and totally clear of any evidence of leukemia or myelodysplasia. As much as I expect that each biopsy will yield happy results, each time we receive positive news it’s like New Year’s, Chanukah and Easter (we embrace all denominations here at Ozer Nation) all over again. But my favorite new Dennis and The New Immune System factoid learned today is the revelation, via biopsy, that his bone marrow is currently populated by 199 female cells and 1 stubborn little male cell, that we are assuming is from Brooklyn, who’s hanging on the stoop, listening to the Mets game on his transistor radio, and is generally bringing down the value of the neighborhood. But the girls ruIe, and I observe the woman in him coming out daily in many unique and fulfilling ways as he postulates on his new and different hair (he has noticed, and I quote, “that the natural oils of his hair enhances the definition of his curls”), asks me, sometimes obsessively, if he’s getting fat, and gets pissy and withdrawn when he feels we are not sensitive to his needs and moods. Yes folks, Bronte and I are no longer the only bitches in town; can PMS be far behind? In other GvH news, the new eye drops have brought the ocular GvH under control and the bronchiectasis has its days, but also seems better overall. We will see Dr. Massaro (our pulmonary pal) next Thursday to confirm that all is well, bronchially speaking, and will see snippy eye doctor man at ME&E on the 20th to follow up on his eyes. We are just too, too booked.
And some good news from those in our direct Ozer/Goodman orbit. Dana Farber and Gift of Life have found a spot-on, 12 antigen adult match for my friend Evie. She was so very fortunate to have a tremendous pool of healthy potentials from which to choose, and the very first person contacted not only fit the bill perfectly, but was honored and eager to be a donor. It would seem that Evie’s predecessors somehow boarded the right DNA boat when they left the old country and, although she herself is special and unique beyond description, her tissue type turned out to be Jewishly common and easy to match. Wherefore our Dennis that he stands so unique among the populace of his tribe? Someday I am determined to do a genealogical study of both sides of his clan and find out who hooked up with whom that was big, bad and verboten in those long ago days, or if the Holocaust, one of the world’s greatest tragedies, severed bloodlines that were crucial to Dennis, centuries later, finding a lifesaving match among his people. This project, of course, will be added to the to-do list along with the book so many of you suggested I write from this experience, the guitar lessons I’ve been meaning to take so I can learn to play slide guitar like Lowell George and Bonnie Raitt, the jewelry making classes I need to take so Sari and I can save some major bucks by developing our own line of fabulous bling, and the sky diving lessons I want to sign up for so, just once in my life, I can fly in reality and not only in my mind and in my dreams. But alas, time is a slippery little mofo so, for now, I will settle for getting some laundry done and leave you, the Dennis municipality, free of political sturm and drang, and always fully loved and appreciated by yours truly and those that are, forever and always, truly mine. Seize your dreams and fly above it all. Debra.

May 24, 2005
6 Month Post-Transplant Anniversary
DTO Delegates:
If I were you, I would be thanking the 14 very valiant Senate souls who worked long and hard (at least for them) to come up with a compromise to Bill Frist’s fillibuster vote. They have thus avoided a devastating chapter in American history and, even more importantly, spared you, the Ozer-loving minions, much painful misuse of your Dennis minutes by yours truly, wailing, moaning and generally opining on this sorry almost-turn-of-events. You have been spared… for now.
Today’s 6 month appointment at DFCI was filled with laughter and continuing good news. Boys and girls, I cannot even begin to tell you how good it feels to be at DFCI and to be laughing – the memory of tears and disbelief will always remain all too fresh in my mind. Dennis’ counts continue to climb and to elicit ‘oooh’s’ and ‘ahhh’s’ from Dr. Antin. Both cords continue to express themselves, though our Milanese one is clearly dominating. The man looks simply fab and his curly black locks and multitudinous facial hair draws comments from those at DFCI who know what the before picture looked like – follicularly speaking, that is. The bone marrow biopsy that was performed today should detail some further information regarding his new immune system as well as confirm that the Leukemia and Myelodysplasia are completely eradicated. As good as the blood work is, the times when we have to wait for biopsy results are always nerve- wracking. If I have one mantra these days (other than that tired old chestnut ‘one day at a time’) it’s that I take nothing, nada, zero, zilch, gornisht (nothing in Yiddish), for granted. Mmm, mmm, mmm, cancer can sho’ turn you into one big, walking cliché!
All of that positive news being said, there are continuing GvH issues which appear to be chronic in nature, since they are occurring more than 100 days post transplant. Acute GvH usually occurs within the first 100 days post transplant, and is infinitely more dangerous than anything that we are seeing almost 6 months out. But, in particular, the GvH in his eyes is proving to be a challenge to bring under control. His follow-up appointment last week at Mass Eye and Ear (hereafter referred to as ME&E) found the GvH a bit worse (eyes drier, scratchier, etc. and more susceptible to infection) necessitating another set of punctual plugs and enough eye drops to flood the Sahara. Unfortunately, this seemed to result in mucho tear overproduction, resulting in inflamed, puffy eyes and a crusty kinda thing going on in his right eye that brought me right back to my childhood conjunctivitis days. Dr. Antin took one look and, as opthomology is not his specialty, sent us back to ME&E that very same day. So, off D & D went, back to ME&E that self same afternoon, where the doctor (he shall remain nameless), seemed all peeved and highly agitated to see Dennis back so soon. He was very snappy, condescending and short, giving us a repeat performance of the snooty MD attitude that we encountered at our first ME&E visit (I doth detect a pattern here), when all we were seeking was, A) a happy medium between extreme dry eye and endless moisture flow and B) confirmation that his eye was not infected (it was not, thankfully). Geez, the nerve of us. To the doctors in the audience tonight, I ask you - what’s the deal with this? I know you are busy, in demand, highly educated people, but we too are busy in our own way and are deserving of respect and a sympathetic ear when we come to you for guidance and a cure for our ills. It’s your job and you are paid to do it. I’m sure clinic environments are stressful, but it was your choice of profession and position, so get over yourself, dammit!
Meanwhile, on the pulmonary front, the brochiectasis seems to have calmed down somewhat since we saw Dr. Massaro, the pulmonary specialist at DFCI, who prescribed an inhaler with a mild steroid that seems to be doing the trick. Dr. Massaro, by way of comparison, was a total sweetheart, enormously helpful and equally informative with zero, nada, zilch, gornisht DT (Doctor Tude). Since the brochiectasis is also chronic, it’s highly comforting to know that the medical professional who you may have to interact with for many, many years to come, is professional, knowledgeable and a mensch to boot. It also seems that the stomach GvH (remember that?) may also be chronic, as any attempt to completely wean Dennis off the Prednisone results in an uptick of the nausea. He’s on extremely low doses, so for the time being, he will hold steady where he is with the Prednisone to keep the nausea at bay. GvH, even in its mildest forms, is quite the balancing act, as we are finding out. Sometimes it’s better to continue taking a drug like Prednisone, although it ain’t great for the body and its organs in the long term, than to have relentless, debilitating nausea. It’s making the Nurse Ratchett in me squirm somewhat, but I’m cool, I’m good, I’m on it. Monitor and manage. Stay on your game. It’s all about the vigilance baby, and vigilance is my middle name (actually, it’s Lynne …). Wow, I’m scaring myself.
You knew it was coming, it’s inevitable and unavoidable, so it’s once again time for….
****Some old school social commentary****
(skip to the final paragraph if these give you nightmares).
With the filibuster question off the table for the time being, much attention is now being paid to a bill to lift the restrictions placed on embryonic stem cell research by Dubya. Our current administration and their conservative brethren, are informing us that our money is better spent supporting umbilical cord and adult stem cell research, which, they say, shows as much promise in treating degenerative diseases as embryonic stem cells. BIG NOT! When I posed this question to certain doctors-in-the know at DFCI (while watching Dennis’ bone marrow biopsy, nonetheless), I was told that, while the stem cells in umbilical cord blood are obviously tremendously beneficial in the world of bone marrow transplants, they differ markedly in make-up and basic nature from embryonic stem cells and DO NOT have the same properties or hold the same potential to someday do the regenerative work required for diseases such as Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s and the like. In fact, studies have shown that they are indeed not effective when utilized in this manner. This, my friends, is straight from the mouth of those doing the research, professionals who are appropriately ‘schooled’ to make those determinations, as opposed to the propaganda we are hearing from those whose only schooling seems to be in Political Pandering 101. It’s our money, it’s our lives, be informed. This message brought to you by A Red Haired Person for an Honest America.
*******End of commentary. It’s safe to come out again.******
And so, I leave you in peace with a final request. Please send your very best birthday wishes to our hero, Dennis Ozer, who turns 57 on this Sunday, May 29th. He battled fiercely to be here for this one and I know God’s eyes will be on him with much pride and love for having fought the good fight.. He Da Man. Debra.

May16, 2005
Ozer Celebrants:
“Back so soon?” you ask, “We’re still recovering from your last lengthy missive!” Never one to give in to the tendency to procrastinate, I come bearing news about today’s pulmonary appointments. After about 3-1/2 hours of testing and assessments, it’s been determined that Dennis does have a very, very mild case of bronchiectasis. Very, very mild makes us truly, truly grateful; after going through a transplant, the severity of anything else medical all becomes relative to that. The word for today seems to be sputum (no definition provided; use your imagination), as Dennis needs to collect his over the next few days so it can be cultured for any infections present. The very good news though, is that there is no evidence of any pneumonia, which would show up on the CAT scan; the sputum collection is necessary to check for bronchitis and other respiratory infections that would not be visually apparent on the scan. In addition, he’s going back to DFCI on Friday for a fresh chest CAT scan (the one we looked at today is now 3 weeks old) and a sinus CAT scan just to make sure that nothing is brewing in his sinuses that’s further affecting the bronchiectasis.
Meanwhile, have I told you that his hair has come in nearly black and wavy-curly? Perhaps that prediction of a Jewfro may come true after all. This demands new pictures, don’t you think? I will get working on it (bless the new digital technology) and will post Dennis ‘Do pics pronto. In addition to these new, compelling glimpses into our hero’s life and hair follicles, stay tuned for a wonderful picture from the Gift of Life Gala featuring Jay Feinberg from GOL, my main woman Sari and Deborah Liney. Deborah works at DFCI, where she in charge of unrelated donor searches. It was the most wonderful Ms. Liney who was responsible for finding Dennis’ two life-saving cords and is currently working diligently on finding a match for my friend Evie. The 3 people in this picture were essential to our transplant journey and are an integral reason why we reached safe passage to the other side. We send thanks and good energy their way every day and, in Deborah and Jay’s case, support the vital work of DFCI and GOL in whatever way we can. Feel free to be part of their miracles.
On another note, I realize I was mistaken about tomorrow’s DFCI appointment. That 6 month appointment is actually scheduled for next Tuesday, so more medical news, other than today’s pulmonary update, will follow next week. Until then, it’s off to bone up on today’s right-wing conservative conspiracies and save the world one person and canine at a time. Thanks for coming, thanks for coping, thanks for caring. Debra.
‘So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind.
Hang it on a shelf of good health and good time.
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial.
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while.
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right.
I hope you had the time of your life.’
Good Riddance – Verse 2 (Time of Your Life) – Green Day

May14, 2005
Dedicated Dennis Dominion:
Dennis continues to do remarkably well overall and grows stronger as the days pass. I often watch him in his training sessions with our magnificent friend Aviva, and it’s remarkable to see how far he’s come in re-attaining strength, coordination and balance. I would venture to say that he’s building an even stronger body than before, as he’s actively integrating yoga into his life, which provides agility and flexibility in both the physical and mental realms. His mind was fairly formidable before, which we witnessed as he went through the most difficult moments of his cancer/transplant journey, but when you can open your mind to flow with what life brings with grace and dignity, you absolutely work magic. Dennis works magic everyday; he thrives and strives and we all remain thrilled and hopeful beyond description.
That being said, it does seem that we may have a small bump in his post transplant road, as the coughing and congestion problems have continued and he’s been very tired in the last few weeks. After contacting Dr. Antin, we came to find out that the chest CAT scan revealed evidence of a condition called bronchiectasis, a condition of the lungs where the airways (windpipes) become widened and enlarged so that lung secretions and mucus do not pass out of the airways normally and instead can pool in the lungs leading to infection. This can lead to cough, recurrent bronchitis and recurrent pneumonia **( **the previous definition courtesy of everyone’s favorite friend, the internet). Why we are just finding out the results of a CAT scan that was taken 2 or more weeks ago perturbs me a mite and, once we get a handle on it, will require further investigation. But meanwhile, we have appointments both for in depth pulmonary function testing and a meeting with a pulmonary specialist this Monday and will know much more at that time. The internet can obviously be helpful, but it also throws reams of information at you that can be both overwhelming and misleading; I prefer to get my bits and pieces straight from the ol’ pulmonary horse’s mouth (at least in this case - insert appropriate doctor’s specialty as it applies). One thing I DO know is that the condition is not life threatening other than we must be ultra vigilant regarding pneumonia, flu and anything bronchial in nature. Of course, if we get any more vigilant, we will be classified as terminally anal-compulsive and not much fun to be around. While I’m not pleased that this has happened, I knew better than to get complacent and think nothing negative would ever pop up because he’s Dennis, he’s the King o’the World and he’s done so astoundingly well thus far. He’s indeed miraculous, but, my peeps and homies, we still have a long way to go and can never get lax or take anything for granted.
This is sort of a rock and rollin’ week for us in terms of doctor’s appointments for Dennis. Along with Monday’s pulmonary work-up, we are back at DFCI on Tuesday morning for our 6 month appointment which includes another bone marrow biopsy and further protocol-related blood work. Then it’s back to Mass Eye and Ear on Wednesday for his eye check follow-up. We now have someone to contact before the Mass Eye and Ear appointment, so we can get in and out with minimal waiting (complaining stridently can get you somewhere after all). Considering the bronchial situation, I do not want him in there a moment longer than is necessary and will kick up some dust if it turns out to be otherwise (you think I’m a bit antagonistic of late?). So, in summary, Debra, your digital scribe, should have much to report, including new and happenin’ fascinating cord facts, by the end of the week and I promise to update the dominion expeditiously (I figure that as long as I can use and spell big words, I’m not getting senile).
**Warning – I feel a Debra advocacy update comin’ on. Here’s your chance to read about how, Debra Style, advocacy can make the world continue to go ‘round, or to skip to the bottom and get out fast (no one will ever know!). The choice is yours and there’s always a choice.**
As I regain my own emotional footing, I have started to have an opportunity to direct some thought and effort towards advocacy – that fine liberal, leftist, femi-Nazi need to make the world a better place after one has been through their own personal hell. When you go through cancer, there is the possibility of coming out on the other side feeling the need to be cloistered, mentally and emotionally, and to hunker down with your family and turn inward. I’ve found myself in a place where my heart has opened up in ways that are often pretty close to painful in terms of containing and controlling the degree of emotion engendered. I chalk that one up to my incredible father, who was one of the most loving, generous, affectionate human beings I’ve ever known. His capacity to give was limitless and I’m proud to have inherited even a small part of that precious legacy. It ends up that my friend, Evie, who I mentioned a few updates ago, will have to undergo a transplant after finishing the chemo regimen she’s presently on to put her lymphoma into remission. I have been of spending much time with her and her family, accompanying her to appointments at DFCI (she will be under Dr. Antin’s care), and trying my best to support, inform and translate as her family deals with sorting through all that comes with the reality of stem cell transplantation. At the risk of sounding new age-y and mighty weird (what’s new about that huh?), it seems like my karma to be able to be present for Evie and it feels very right and very good. My friend Sari and I also went to NY last week for the Gift of Life’s 10th Anniversary Gala celebration. The Gift of Life, and Jay Feinberg, is the amazing bone marrow foundation that funded all of our drives when we were searching for a match for Dennis. Sari and I hope to begin to work with GOL in their efforts to begin an umbilical cord storage facility since cord blood transplantation, as we have seen with Dennis, is most definitely the best hope for the future. Without those cords, Dennis’ outlook would have been bleak indeed. GOL has partnered with a facility here in Worcester and, as karma would have it, Evie’s son and daughter-in-law, Amy and Josh, are due in 4 weeks with their first child. I put them in touch with Jay so GOL can collect their baby’s cord and the life-saving stem cells that reside within it, and their cord will officially become GOL’s inaugural donated cord upon their baby’s birth. It’s the next, best thing to having a baby of my own (female, of course) and being able to donate her cord. To bring the circle of coincidence (or the belief that nothing ever is coincidence) even closer, Amy and Josh bought a house right across the street from us, and I am now blessed with terrific new neighbors and a beautiful baby-to-be that I can lavish with attention and get my mommy ya-ya’s out on. Additionally, when Evie is safely post transplant, she will have the choice of not just one ‘safe house’ (her own), not two (Josh and Amy’s cleaned to spec) but THREE since my house is now and will forever remain up to post transplant code. We build advocates one by one, and we must teach, preach and pass it on when we have reached safe harbour from our own dance with the demon. So stay tuned for information as Sari and I figure how to best spread GOL’s cord blood donation gospel to our little part of the world. And keep the glory that is Dennis in your heart when an opportunity to give mightily of your own blessings, be they your stem cells, your blood and platelets or your financial successes, is presented to you. End of advocacy update.
And so I leave you for that famous springtime ritual called Little League, as I wear many chapeaus, soccer and baseball Mom being proudly amongst them. The name will always be Goodman, but my man and my clan is Ozer. Debra.
‘Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road,
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go.
So make the best of this test, and don’t ask why.
It’s not a question, but a lesson learned in time.
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end is right.
I hope you had the time of your life.’
Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) – Green Day

April 26, 2005
5 Month Transplant Anniversary
Beloved, Burgeoning Nation of O:
Rather than count the days since our hero’s transplant, we will start to mark the milestones by months, as an incredible 5 of them have now passed. Today’s appointment at DFCI continued our trend of good news and spot on progress. By all standards, Dennis’ blood work is deemed completely normal and recovered. His hematocrit still has not hit 42, but it’s up to 39 and we expect it to follow suit by our next appointment, one month from today. We were both a bit concerned over the last few days, as Dennis has been feeling winded and short of breath, but his blood work remains far too strong to indicate anything problematic other than perhaps a cold or springtime allergies. I spent most of last week with a pretty nasty cold myself, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Dennis picked it up despite my best attempts to keep my distance. He is having a chest CAT scan tomorrow just to be sure that nothing is brewing, but again, there is no expectation of anything troublesome.
It would also seem that our man is unique among double-cord stem cell transplant patients (all 18 of ‘em performed at DFCI to date,that is) as the little girl from Dusseldorf refuses to entirely go away. Usually, by Day +100, one cord has come to dominate completely but, although our Milanese baby is still directing the show at about a 76% to 24% ratio, it would seem that we’ve got a little European Union thing going on, with the two cords co-existing peacefully in Dennis’ bone marrow. According to Dr. Antin, this is a total first and, since it‘s nothing to be concerned about in the overall scheme of things, it seemed to be an endless source of amusement for Dr. A. as did the thought of these two little girls running around in some playground, laughingly oblivious to the life they have saved. Being that our doctor is not usually one prone to spontaneous expressions of humour, it was kind of exhilarating to see him so amused and chuckling, obviously enormously pleased by Dennis’ progress. Let me tell you folks, it is ALLL good indeed when one’s transplant doctor is happy and chatting gleefully with you about little girls playing in European schoolyards. I, of course, am not surprised to hear that Dennis’ marrow is unique among patients. I would expect nothing less as he stands unique among most humans in just about any comparisons in which he is measured. The Lord up above, she done broke the mold after making that one!
***Political Commentary Alert! Skip to the end if these kind of things make your skin crawl (Hey, I’ve been so good!)*****
I have been very tempted these days to comment on recent news events pertaining to certain Frists and Delays making noise about ‘persons of faith’, a phrase they bandy about so recklessly and one that is fraught with some pretty scary connotations . I invite them to have observed our lives this past year as we have learned the true meaning of faith and how deeply personal that word is to each of us. They might have a concept that faith is born of the family that holds you up, of the doctors who discover miracles and bring a second chance and of the community of many who, each immersed in their own personal interpretation of God and the infinite, embraced this family with spirit. love and prayer that needed no definition from the Pope, Chief Rabbi or Allah to have the power to support, inspire and heal. It wasn’t ‘one true faith’ only, but the power of the many and the diverse that brought us through our version of hell, enlightened and humbled. I fear deeply for this country when God and faith becomes a bludgeon to be used to force submission to any one ideal; there was once a man in Germany who exterminated 11 million people in the name of that kind of ‘faith’. Open your heart and set your own journey. Debra.
‘Everything begins in faith and ends in politics’ – Charles Peguy

April 20, 2005
Day +122
Those who Follow All Things Ozer:
All continues on the upward path for Dennis. Our last appointment at DFCI revealed that the bone marrow biopsy found Dennis’ marrow “clean as a whistle”, in the words of Dr. Antin. Never did such a cliché term sound so very beautiful and happening. He has been feeling stuffed up and seems to have a cough, but both a chest x-ray and nasal swab came back normal. Normal – that is also one truly mah-velous word when it applies to his health. His hematocrit, which is traditionally the last indicator to come up to full strength or, more factually, back within an acceptable range (in this case 42 and above), is up to 37.7 from 35.5 at the last appointment. So, once again, that word ‘thankful’ seems inadequate but one that I wake up with on my mind and in my heart every day. Nothing can be taken for granted, as I was just painfully reminded today when I found out that a good friend’s Lymphoma has relapsed after 3+ years of clean scans. We must keep focused on living in the day, in the hour, in the moment. I embrace every day and every test and clinic appointment that greets us with continuing good news as our world can be, once again, rocked to its core in a given instance. Our love, deepest prayers and total support to my friend Evie as she faces the demon once again. Evie’s situation also served to remind Dennis that Dennis still faces an element of the unknown due to the dearth of long term data available on umbilical cord transplants. But, as I have learned in yoga, one can’t live their life in fear of the next moment, of the future, of the next pose and if it’s attainable. There is only the mat and the moment, only what is currently in front of us and I, at least, have chosen to live in that particular place. I feel that, in many ways, that is a far more difficult task for Dennis as he possesses a personality, (despite his little Milanese girl), that makes it difficult to live with that element of surrender. His mind just doesn’t work in that manner; it’s always moving light years ahead, inventing and evolving in ways that this slower paced girl can barely even start to contemplate!
While he still faces 7-8 more months of relative isolation in the house, the advent of spring has allowed him to get out and be a bit more participative in the sporting lives of the kids. Although he is not able to do the coaching he would so love to do, or get down and dirty with the kids on the fields, I think it does us all a world of good to have him out of the house and helping the kids to hone their hoops, polish their pitches and garnish their goals. Spring is definitely fast paced around here with each kid running between 2 sports and other varied activities (Green Day concert, Bat/Bar Mitzvahs galore, etc.), so the days and weeks pass more quickly as we count down our one year of Dennis confinement (it’s almost 5 months into it if you can believe it). Viva la spring and all the renewal and rebirth that comes with it. That is the theme of our lives these days and it’s reflected back to us daily in our environment. Oyyy, the cyclical nature of it all! So, before I devolve into further gag worthy, new age spewage (makes you miss the fiery, endearingly obnoxious liberal spoutations, huh), we wish all of our Jewish kin ‘round the world a Happy Passover and send back to our Nation of Ozer all the love and energy with which you have sustained us these many long months. Shalom, Namaste, Peace out, Amen y’all. Debra.

March 31, 2005
Day +109
Those Who Knowzer Ozer:
Our first Tuesday without a DFCI appointment – a beautiful thing indeed. In this post-transplant world of recovery and reconnection, small things like this, indicating tremendous, hard-fought-for progress, end up being very profound. As I type this, Dennis and I are working, side-by-side, in the home office I set up for just this purpose, and it’s truly delightful to be here with him. He continues to do superbly well, and, as I have had the pleasure of watching my yoga teacher Aviva train him, I’m amazed by the strength and power he’s reclaiming so quickly. I know that he feels frustrated not to be at the same place he was prior to the transplant, or should I say prior to the symptoms of his illness, but he was never one to surrender gently and give in to the ebb and flow of life, the good days and not so great ones. The man chews life like a piece of leather (kind of a sweet pitbull analogy as it were) and lives a life that moves to a very fast rhythm- that’s part of what makes him the Dennis that entertains and inspires us so. The advent of the beautiful spring-like weather has also allowed him to get out and play hoops and catch with the boys. It cracks me up to watch people in our neighborhood drive or walk by and pay their respects to the reappearance of the reinvigorated Godfather. Funny, funny. And, of course the Great White Bronte Beast continues to be kept slim and girlish with her Dennis-paced daily walks.
I forgot to mention in my last update that some of the food restrictions were lifted last week on the Day +100 milestone appointment. We can bring in take-out food and, more importantly, It is salad and raw fruits and veggie time again for the O. Being a man who has eaten about as close to nature as a human can get, the loss of greens was a heavy one indeed for him. It was nigh near glorious to observe his face when he bit into the first apple he has had in about 6 or more months. Who knew romaine lettuce and radishes could be as good as sex? The things we take for granted. This also serves to take some of the cooking pressure off of me, as I can now serve salads with shrimp, salads with chicken, salads with crunchy sprouts and tofu etc. to O and the offspring and still feel that they are eating decently without my having daily meal preparation trauma. You laugh, but this is some stressful shit when the fine art of cooking is not firmly and comfortably part of one’s skill set! The whiny Princess in me has been loosed upon you. Excuse the use of such extreme language, but it only serves to reinforce the depth of the culinary distress I experience as dinner rolls around!
By the way, since many of you have asked how your man looks, stay tuned for some brand new, happenin’ pictures of Peanut and the family O (including political maven Adam, Hurricane Jake and Bronte, the chocolate-lovin’ canine, of course). No new pictures of yours truly, as I don’t change much other than another wrinkle and more gray hair. Oy!
So each day proceeds with joy, and each week seems to pass with increased health that we never take for granted. Our journey continues (doesn’t all of ours?) but it has moved from a survival mode to one of rebuilding and reestablishing. I know only too well that everyone has a different definition of God and what God means to them, but, in my own personal world, I see God as a spark of divine potential that lies within each of us that guides, that inspires and lifts us on the lifelong quest to connect to something higher and better. Dennis’ spark was always a thing of tremendous power and strength, but I marvel that he now has the dual little baby spark of a glorious little girl from Milan intertwining with his own. Blessings on your journeys, my friends. In the moment, in the glow. Debra.
*** Peace, comfort and namaste at the close of your journey, Terri Schiavo***

March 24, 2005
3 Month Milestone
Day +100 Appointment Update
O Minions:
Never being one who likes to repeat past mistakes, I bring you this week’s latest Ozer news in a more timely and expeditious manner (I am so glad to have these updates in which to test my old person’s memory of the English language). Our Day +100 appointment was wonderfully uneventful, as all news was good news. Dennis’ latest blood work was termed ‘magnificent’ by he-in-the-know, Dr. Antin, and we were tremendously pleased to see that his hematocrit has risen more than 2 points to 35, without the need for any supplementary blood infusions. It looks like there is one happy baby dwelling in the O’s marrow and we are grateful indeed for our little Milanese wonder woman. Dennis’ lung function test results were actually stronger than those results gathered before his transplant, which speaks volumes on the effects the leukemia/myelodysplasia had on our ever-so-strong and hardy hero. Although Dr. Antin performed a bone marrow biopsy, we won’t receive the results of the various tests and chemistries run from the biopsy for 1-2 weeks. Again I stress that we are not expecting to hear that there are any blasts in his bone marrow; Dr. Antin feels that his counts are far too strong and would be responding adversely to any cancer cells if they were present. While a bone marrow biopsy is never what you would call a ‘pleasant’ procedure, it did afford an opportunity for Dr. Antin to access the strength of Dennis’ bones, which, despite several rounds of chemo and other potentially body traumatic drugs, seemed to have retained all of their previous integrity. In other words, he’s remained tight, right, light and outta sight throughout the fight!
Wednesday’s Day +100 appointment was at Mass Eye and Ear and took a loooooong damn time in a very busy, jammed clinic environment. Mucho waiting, getting ushered in one room and back out to wait for the next doctor, into another room and back out again to wait for doctor #3, etc. All in all, we were there for close to 3 hours and I found myself getting rather cranky and aggravated watching him get exhausted and exposed to numerous coughing, sneezing, hacking-type people as we waited. Mama ain’t no doctor, but it would seem to me that this was one extremely unhealthy environment for a 3-month out stem cell transplant patient with a baby immune system. Of course, me being the ultra-advocatin’ stand-up kinda woman that I like to think I am and he bein’ my man, I did try to sweetly, yet firmly verbalize my displeasure to one of the techs and the more junior opthomologist to see if we could speed up the between-procedures wait time, but, alas, to no avail. I got a “you should have known this would be a long appointment” line from junior opthowoman there, which, although she was right and we should have been told, only served to piss me off even further, partially due to her snitty doctor ‘tude. And so, me being the combative, ultra-advocatin’, stand up for her fabulous, happenin’ man, can’t sit on it and let things pass kinda woman that I KNOW I am, I have decided to inform DFCI of this and try to make a difference for our future appointments and the F.A.’s of all other transplant patients to come (so noble, ain’t I?). While my own personal self would wait as long as needed like all the other folks for this type of appointment, I truly feel there needs to be some sort of intelligent intervention made on the part of DFCI and some special dispensation made at Mass Eye and Ear for a dramatically immune-compromised individual. In the end, it does appear that Dennis has some mild GvHD in his eyes that results in a dramatic decrease in adequate tear production to keep his eyes moist. Fortunately, it is extremely mild and the structural integrity of his eyes also remains very much intact. It’s treated simply with eye wash 8-10 times per day, and these little teeny-tiny, microscopic things called punctal plugs that were inserted into the corners of his eyes (painless, I can assure you because I watched the whole 2 second procedure), which block the tubes (or Puncta, our new Sesame Street word for today) that drain extra tears and moisture from our eyes. Who woulda known such a thing existed?
*** I know -- you are probably thinking as you read this, ‘Wow, that was a long diatribe to wade through to get to the punctal plugs bit!’ Man, she’s contentious and wordy sometimes! ***
There are so many times these days, when I look at Dennis and find it almost incomprehensible that his body and spirit has been through so much. He truly looks amazing and his presence is as powerful, inspiring and, perhaps, even more impactful, than it was before. Although the rhythm of our lives is most definitely changed (Dennis home 24/7! Debra cooking meals for 4!), it has resumed a flow and has a new warmth to it that is truly sustaining to us all. I mark time very differently though, and, as cliché as it might sound, feel every moment and each day that passes with health and vigor, in a far deeper and more profound way than I thought possible. The journey that cancer takes you on, one that, something tells me, will remain with us lifelong, can either close you off and have you questioning God, faith and yourself, or opens your heart and soul to the possibilities of forgiveness, personal strength, connectiveness and love. My world reverberates very differently now and I feel altered in many ways, but it’s a good and very powerful place we are all in, indeed. I give thanks and remain open and attuned every day to the beauty of having possibilities that include Dennis and a life together.
*** LECTURE ALERT *** (non-political in nature, though)
While I will spare you my personal opinions on the Terri Schiavo tragedy (and it is, in every possible way a tragedy), the whole issue of living wills, insurance and disability is one that resonates with both Dennis and myself. A cancer diagnosis has a very efficient way of making these issues into priority #1 for any family facing the battle. While I would never, consciously at least, tell anyone what they have to do, I will say that Dennis took care of his family in many very significant ways that could easily be overlooked until an emergency necessitates addressing them (and, by then, it is often too late). From just about day #1 of our marriage, Dennis had taken out sufficient life insurance and disability on both of us to provide for the family in the unfortunate possible occurrence of just this kind of circumstance. He always made it a priority in our domestic affairs, thanks entirely to his own efforts and, quite honestly, often against my objections because of the financial commitment required. Trust me, I was wrong to ever object and bless him every day for his foresight and uniquely Dennis persistence in this matter! Additionally, both of us have living wills, which we reviewed and updated immediately upon his leukemia diagnosis, and a copy of which followed him and his chart wherever he went during his 2 hospitalizations. We are both extremely clear where we stand on the issue of life support and have the document to back those wishes up to, prayfully, ever prevent the kind of horrendous conflict and litigation that has torn apart the Schindler and Schiavo families. You need this whether you are married or single and you are never, ever too young to attend to this crucial document. As we have all seen with the Schiavo litigation, the stakes are tremendously high and enormously catastrophic if ignored. Appoint a trusted guardian and make your wishes known in writing as soon as possible if you have not already done so. Illness and calamity can enter your life UNEXPECTEDLY at any time, as it did with Dennis, and procrastination can bring with it momentous consequences and unfathomable heartache to your family and loved ones.
*** LECTURE OVER, BUT THE LOVE GOES ON AND ON ***
Yours in the day – Debra.

March 15, 2005
Day +90 (can you believe it?)
Patently Patient Nation of O:
Bad Debra, bad Debra! Yes, Debra has been a bad girl, a bad dog. You have called, you have written, you have admonished and pleaded and, still, you didn’t get your update. I offer no excuses. I am riddled with guilt (as every Jewish girl should be). I accept responsibility. I beg forgiveness. Of course, being the fine, intelligent community of digital intelligencia that you are, and living in a world where every bad word is instantly blasted and broadcast near and far, you figured that all is well and there was nothing troublesome to report (‘no news is good news’ as the cliché goes). And, in this instance, you are right and then some. Yes, life is good here in New England. No rain, no sleet, no endless pounding snowstorms, seemingly one after the other, can dull the spirit, energy and progress of he who we call The Godfather. Our Tuesday meetings are getting to be quick, down and dirty; a little blood work, a kvetch or two and we’re out of there until next week. Yes, it might be considered medically boring, but we like boring. Boring is beautiful, Boring is goooood, goooood (as George Bush Senior used to say by way of Dana Carvey). After the end of this month, we will probably start on a schedule of every other week (or twice monthly as it’s more commonly said) appointments at DFCI. His counts continue to climb (as in the case of his hematocrit) or remain consistent and strong (platelets and WBC’s), all good signs of a healthy, new immune system happily taking root and flourishing. The prednisone continues to do its job in regards to the gastro GvHD, he is being gently weaned weekly off of his various meds and there have been no further worrisome signs of any kind. Despite my best predictions and secret desire for Dennis to grow a fine, curly Jewfro worthy of Bob Dylan, his beard and hair has come in the same color and consistency. He has started working twice weekly with both a PT and my magnificent yoga teacher Aviva, and continues training on the Needham Heights Bronte Dog Walking Workout on a daily basis. If one didn’t know Dennis (how inconceivable and sad it would seem NOT to know Dennis) and met him for the first time, they would have no idea that he had been so sick. He just so pretty!
And now, for your viewing pleasure, a few fun facts re: Dennis’ cords:
1) It would seem that baby Milanese is kicking Germany’s butt and it looks like it will soon be completely dominant. As of our last appointment, Maria Milano comprised 66% of his immune system and Debbie Deutschland only 34%. In the words of Dr. Antin “Brooklyn is completely gone”(meaning Dennis’ none too healthy immune system has left the building in exactly the way it was meant to). But you know and I know that the Brooklyn is in our boys’ DNA – it just be hibernating for now and will soon be sneaking its’ butt out after curfew to check the box scores and toss back an espresso or two.
2) Now, the truly astute among you may have noticed that I have placed female monikors on our baby cords. As roaringly queer as that may seem, there is a reason. Yep, they’re girls. Both of ‘em. One was born in 2000, the other in 2001. Girl power, baby. The ultimate in getting in touch with your feminine side. The girls I never had. A new palette of sof