Santa Fe Century 2001 - Honored Team Mate - Nicholas Voyton

Below is a picture of Nicholas and a letter I received from his mom and dad earlier in March 2001. How can I not peddle my butt off for this cute little guy???

 

February 28, 2001

 

Dear Keith,

We want to say thanks again for your participation in the Sante Fe Century Ride. We are amazed by your commitment not only to your goal to ride a 100 miles but also your ability to raise a large amount of money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. We attribute our son's remission in part to people like you who have raised money for research which in turn has led to new treatments and cures for Leukemia and Lymphoma. Although Nicholas will always be our "hero", we also look to you as our hero in fighting this life-threatening illness.

We believe you met Nicholas the other week at the bike shop. He has come a long way from four and a half years ago. We thought we would take this opportunity to tell you a little bit about Nick's brave battle with cancer, and our reasons for supporting this campaign and the Leukemia and Lymphon3a Society.

My husband and I vividly remember October 3, 1996. Nicholas was just turning two and a half, and we had recently returned from a beach trip. He began to nm a fever of 105/106 and was very lethargic. I took him to our pediatrician who told us it was mostly likely a virus and to go back home. Ms high fevers continued both day and night, and he responded very little to us. We became very alarmed and took him back to the doctor's office. The pediatrician ordered blood work to rule out possible factors. We received an unxpected phone call later that afternoon. Our doctor informed us that Nicholas was very anemic and needed to be admitted to St. Agnes Hospital. Resident doctors at St. Agnes bantered about the diagnosis of Leukemia, but it became our living nightn3are the following day at Johns Hopkins Hospital when he was confirmed to have this illness. My paternal aunt had died of Leukemia at age 4, and we were certain that this disease would take our son's life as well. Nicholas was diagnosed with ALL (Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia), the most common form of childhood Leukemia. Our son's Oncologists informed us that medical researchers had made great strides with this particular cancer. Moreover, given Nick's favorable risk factors (age, white blood cell count at diagnosis and biologic make-up of his leukemia cells), his chances for survival were very good.

Although Nicholas' prognosis was optimistic, he suffered several complications and setbacks during his course of treatment. An infusaport (a device surgically placed below the skin and above the heart so as to allow easy access for blood draw and chemotherapy injections) was implanted shortly after his diagnosis. Nicholas complained of extreme pain around the incision, and his high fevers returned. After several days, it was discovered that his port was infected, and he returned to the operation room to have his port removed. However, the infection had traveled to his lungs. Nicholas developed pneumonia and was placed on oxygen. His breathing became labored and his heart raced so quickly that it continuously set off the monitor's alarm. I remember spending many sleepless nights worrying if our son could battle this serious infection given his severely impaired immune system At that time, Nicholas has few if any white blood cells and was still undergoing chemotherapy. Moreover, nurses, doctors, and lab technicians were unable to access any of Nick's veins or arteries so as to draw blood or to infuse vital medicines and liquids. A surgeon was called in again to place an IV in his neck.

Nicholas overcame this obstacle. He returned to the operating room for a new port, and he began a rigorous course of chemotherapy. For the first month or what is referred to as the Induction Phase, Nicholas received chemotherapy in three ways: orally, intramuscularly, and intravenously. Unfortunately, the chemotherapy had many adverse side effects ranging from vomiting, diarrhea, constipation hair loss (Alopecia), leg pain, mouth sores, water retention, excessive weight gain or loss, skin rashes, and mood swings. Yet the treatment appeared to have worked for lab tests at the end of the month indicated his cancer was in remission.

During the next six months or the Consolidation Phase of treatment, Nicholas continued to undergo daily oral medicine, weekly injections, and six inpatient stays. This stage of therapy had its own difficulties. Nicholas vomited profusely for several weeks, and he lost approximately 8 pounds. The possibility of a brain tumor was broached but testing indicated severe gastrointestinal inflammation. Fortunately, medication helped to heal his stomach, and he was able to gain the majority of his weight back. Yet his treatment did not end there.

For the next 2 years or what is referred to as the maintenance phase, Nicholas continued with his oral medication, and I was trained in giving his weekly injections at home. For approximately six or seven months, Nicholas teetered on Neutapenia or an ANC (Absolute Neutrophil Count) below 500. In other words, Nicholas was more susceptible to infection, and we isolated him from other children and crowded places. We not only feared exposure to everyday viruses and colds, but we were petrified that Nicholas may have contact with a child with Chicken Pox, a common childhood disease that can be deadly to an immunosuppressed child. Therefore, every time that Nicholas spiked a fever of IO 1, we were instructed to take him to the Emergency Room for a possible admission. However, his visits to the doctors became less frequent and his stays at the hospital and emergency room also lessened over time.

Over the course of treatment or 2 and a half years, Nicholas bad undergone many painful procedures and surgeries including 18 spinal taps, 4 bone marrow aspirations, and 4 surgeries. On April 8, 1999 Nicholas finally completed his treatment. His cancer continues to be in remission, and his blood counts are now similar to the average 6 year old. We thank God and his doctors every day for giving our son a second chance at life. We are also thankful that our daughter, now four years old survived a very stressful first nine months of life and was born without any medical problems. We are also very appreciative of all the family members and friends who have supported us over the years. We have learned a very important lesson from this experience in that we need to appreciate every day we spend with our loved ones and that no amount of money or possessions can ever insure health or happiness to your family.

However, this “happy outcome” was not the case for many patients at Hopkins and for many children and adults around the country. Nicholas was lucky in that his treatment did not involve radiation or a bone marrow transplant. These procedures often have many adverse effects and complications. We also watched three families lose their children to cancer; no words can describe the pain and bravery we witnessed in the children or the anguish and agony that we saw in their parents’ faces. We pray that one day Leukemia and other related cancers will no longer be considered life-threatening and that thousands of children and adults will not have to undergo years of painful treatment. Morever, my husband and I still live under a cloud of fear that our son may one day relapse. We hope one day there will be more successful cures for recurring cancer. That is why Team in Training and other similar campaigns are so vitally important. The money raised not only goes to help patients and their families with financial hardships but it also supports researchers in their quest to understand the causes of cancer as well as to find treatments and cures.

We love being involved with Team in Training because we get to meet special people like you. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts! We hope to see you again before your trip to Santa Fe. Good Luck in your training!!!!!

Sincerely,

 

Mark, Lynn, Nicholas and Jennifer Voyton

(P.S. Sorry for the big spot on Nick’s picture. There must have been a piece of dust on the negative when it was produced.)

 


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