The Reason I'm Running - My Father

No one should have to say goodbye to someone that they love before it's their time to go. Yet there I was, home for Columbus Day weekend my freshmen year of college, kissing my father's forehead and saying goodnight and goodbye because as my mother said that night, "You never know what's going to happen". My father, 48 years young, was at the time unconscious in the ICU unit hooked up to a dialysis machine as his liver began to shut down. He passed away the following morning.

My father was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Mantle Cell Lymphoma in the summer of 2000. The prescribed treatment was a bone marrow transplant after several rounds of chemotherapy. My mother stayed with my father for weeks and months on end during his bone marrow transplant while he suffered from what is called "graph vs. host" whereupon the "host" body (my father) attempts to fight the new white blood cells he received as part of the "graph". My mother would later confess that doctors would frequently tell her that there was a 50/50 chance that he would make it through the night. It didn't help that he caught Legionnaire's Disease through the shower system at the hospital. And while there was great stress on mother, the situation wasn't much better at home with my older sister and I attempting to take care of the 4 younger siblings, run the household, and me trying to keep my father's appraisal business afloat. Looking back I can certainly say that it was during these trying times that I learned a lot about myself and it was a time when my family grew closer than ever before.

In and out of the hospital was the routine for my father over the following two years when the graph versus host flared up as a result of his immuno-suppressed state, which caused his body to be extremely fragile and susceptible. I remember one time my mother went to visit my sister in Florida for the weekend and I was to monitor my father and make sure he had everything he needed. The first day I went to visit he was buying my mother a watch for their anniversary; he very much loved my mother. The next day when I went in I found out that he had been switched to the ICU. For those who are fortunate enough not to see a loved one unconscious and hooked up to a heart monitor, you cannot help but feel immensely helpless. And that's the problem with cancer, there's nothing that you and I can physically do to stop it; the best we can hope to do is provide resources to others who will one day cure cancer and provide the best care possible to those afflicted by cancer (both of which Dana Farber strives towards). I cried next to my father's bed for a few hours by myself, thinking how unfair this all was. It was also the day that a Niagara power plant caused the loss of electricity statewide in NY; I was appreciative of emergency back-up generators that day for my father's sake.

My mother dropped me off at Boston College as a freshman and was gone within 30 minutes once the car was unloaded. I understood that she had to get back to my father who at this point was in the hospital with kidney poisoning as a result of an improper CAT Scan. While in the emergency room for his kidney poisoning he caught an infection (as a result of the immuno-suppressed state) and the infection ate away his heart valves. The doctors said that they would need to replace both heart valves in surgery. I found out he was going into surgery the night before he went in and was able to talk to my father. We conversed about the typical news items of the day, how the Mets were doing well but would probably blow it as usual. After the conversation my mother got back on the phone but I said to her, "Hey Mom, can you put Dad back on for a second?" When she handed the phone back to him I said, "Hey Dad, I just wanted to tell you I love you." And in a choked voice my father replied back, "I love you too." It was something that would often go unsaid among us men in the family, but I was certainly glad to have said it. Little did I know that that would be the last time that I talked to my father. A few weeks later while attempting to recover from the surgery is when his liver shut down and that's when I found myself saying goodnight and goodbye to my father on Columbus Day Weekend.

I want to run this marathon in memory of my father and the great man that he was. I am also running because I know that I alone cannot defeat cancer, the disease that ultimately took my father from me and my family. Dana Farber was the logical choice for me because after reading the synopsis of my father's battle you know that providing the best care is so crucial to ensuring that cancer patients are given the best chance of surviving the disease. Moreover, Dana Farber is also taking on the larger goal of curing cancer and ensuring that no family sees a loved one fade before their eyes and pass away.

It's truly unfortunate and sad that so many people have stories that are similar to mine. But that's all the more reason why we must stand behind organizations like Dana Farber; because this isn't a problem that affects just a few people. Cancer disrupts lives, takes loved ones from us; it doesn't care if you are black, white, rich, poor - cancer affects everyone and it is up to all of us to fight back.

Please go to the website below and help support the fight and give hope that no one else will have to suffer from cancer.

http://www.runDFMC.org/ryanmeehan2009