Showing posts with label Harry Potter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harry Potter. Show all posts

Friday, July 27, 2007



This video shows some of the action at the Harry Potter parties. You would have loved it.



Sick muggles! Ha, that's a good one.

Mom got a little choked up when you see her talking about the books. I knew at that moment she was thinking so much about you.

Saturday, July 21, 2007


The "aunt" is Aunt Jen, and Minneapolis is actually St. Louis, but otherwise, this is a nice snapshot of what happened today. There were parties in St. Louis and Georgetown. Fairview is just giving out the books like they did last time (hopefully on the meal trays) and the Hackensack party is Monday.

We finished up at Georgetown and drove 9 hours up to Massachusetts to pick up Jack at camp. It has been a long day. We see Jack tomorrow. Yea! Love you.

http://www.abcnews.go.com/Health/story?id=3401421&page=1



Harry Potter the Healer
With Book Release Party, a Magical Dose of Medicine in Pediatric Cancer Ward





Theresa Hammann, 6, right, attends the release party with her brother William, 3. Theresa's black curls are returning after recent chemotherapy treatments. (Molly Frances Norris, ABC News)

By MOLLY FRANCES NORRIS
July 21, 2007—

Young patients had their Harry Potter fanaticism nursed for a change at Georgetown University Hospital's Lombardi Cancer Center here in Washington today.

The children gathered in the clinic dripping with Potter-themed decorations. Some wheeled IVs and spoke from behind face masks guarding their weak immune systems -- features that faded when donning thick Harry glasses and Quidditch player capes.

"This party is for children undergoing chemotherapy and other difficult treatments who are missing out on some of the joys of childhood. It's to deliver some fun during what can be a bleak time," said Laurie Strongin, talking with a volunteer.

Strongin's son's passing at the age of seven after a life-long struggle with a genetic disease motivated her and her husband to start a foundation in his memory called Hope for Henry. They shower young patients with the finest tools of distraction -- personal DVD and mp3 players, Ninetendo Game Boys, digital cameras and other consumer electronics.

Pediatrician Brooke Trenton watched some of her patients bounce around eating cake and waving plastic wands at 10 a.m.

"Kids need a break from what they're going through," Trenton said.

She added the three hour party was already making for an easier morning for everyone in the oncology hematology clinic.

Outside of the hospital, some worry about the swell of darker themes embodied in the very title of J.K. Rowling's final installment, "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows." Strongin said the sinister undertones speak to children fighting potentially fatal illnesses.

"They understand things that healthy kids don't. Threats and danger lurking goes along with their life experience," said Strongin.

"Harry Potter is a symbol. Harry went through so much adversity," added Strongin. "With determination and courage, and lots of help from friends, he pulls through."

The foundation is a result of bonds forged through Henry's illness. An aunt in Minneapolis, Minn., lined up with the Strongin family to buy copies at midnight for another release party at a hospital where Henry once received a bone marrow transplant.

At four hospitals nationwide, 275 copies of "Deathly Hallows" were bought for patients who may have been to sick to line up at bookstores.

Subhan Jamil, 19, came down from his hospital room for a free copy of "Deathly Hallows." He's spent about a year here after spending one semester at college.
"I never thought I would say this, but I miss school," said Jamil.

He used to major in accounting, but now he wants to work with children, or maybe be a journalist.

When talking about the Sony PSP he received from the Hope for Henry Foundation, he said, "My time passes faster. It's pretty boring usually."

Maybe less so on a day with gummy rats and a few black witches' hats.

Copyright © 2007 ABC News Internet Ventures

Friday, July 20, 2007


Tomorrow we leave to pick up Jack. These are all of the letters he has written home this summer. There are a lot. I'm pretty certain they make them write letters or they don't get to go to the canteen.







Not bad.

Tonight is Harry Potter book night everywhere. I waited on line this morning to get tickets to wait on line tonight. The world is strange that way.

Love you, miss you.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

New Harry Potter Book Delivered to Hospitalized Kids on July 21


The reason I was going through the bin from the garage was to find stuff from the 1970s when I went to camp. A friend and I are trying to get in touch with everyone we went to camp with and we may have a reunion. That should be fun.

One of the things I found was an autograph book, which is a lot like your Disney autograph book. Instead of Buzz, Woody, Chip and Dale, I have some nice notes from people who went to camp with me. Here is one from my counselor who said some really nice things. Interestingly, I remember almost getting kicked out of camp one year. Maybe when we have a reunion, someone will fill me in on what happened.



On Friday night the new Harry Potter book comes out. We'll be waiting on line at midnight to get the books to bring to the hospital on Saturday morning. Hope for Henry is giving books to kids at Georgetown, Hackensack, Fairview and Aunt Jen and Hannah are bringing them to kids at St. Louis Children's Hospital.

After the Harry Potter party at Georgetown, we jump in the car to drive up to Massachusetts to pick up Jack at Camp Ramah. Last year we went to the Basketball Hall of Fame and Fenway Park for a Yankees/Red Sox game after we got Jack. Not sure we'll have time this year.

Wednesday, June 27, 2007


A while ago I told you about the series they run on ESPN where they Make a Wish for someone with their favorite athlete.

It's back.

They had one on yesterday with a kid meeting his hero, David Ortiz.

Joe and I were watching it while I was making him dinner. I was trying to explain to him what it was all about and he looked at me funny 'cause I was crying as I was talking.

I reminded Joe that you met Big Papi when he was on the Twins. He gave you a bat that I had signed last year when he visited XM. He gave the kid in the ESPN Make A Wish story a bat too.

Here is a wonderul article about a girl who has FA and raises money so other kids can have their wishes granted. She is a Super Hero!



Helping make WISHES

Friday, June 22, 2007

By Stu Woo

Journal Staff Writer

WARWICK hen she was 6 years old, Meaghan Spillane sat in the living room of her parents’ quaint, one-story house and wished for a trip to Disney World.

“She wanted to meet the princesses,” her mother, Patricia, said.

Two representatives of the Make-A-Wish Foundation nodded and smiled, and a few months later, Meaghan, who was suffering from a rare genetic disorder, was off to Florida with her parents.

Seven years later, Meaghan doesn’t really remember the trip or even making the wish. There were some princesses and a parade, she said, but the specifics are hazy. What she remembers clearly is the feeling of exhilaration she felt the entire week.

The feeling was so powerful that Meaghan decided she had to give back to Make-A-Wish.

So last summer she sent letters to, and visited, more than 200 businesses and individuals — all by herself — and raised $3,100 for the charity.

“I was surprised — she’s usually pretty shy. She approached people by herself,” said her father, Steven. “I just drove.”

For her efforts, she was named Rhode Island’s top middle-school volunteer by the Prudential Spirit of Community Awards earlier this year. Last month, she attended a ceremony in Washington, D.C., where football star Peyton Manning congratulated her and 101 other top youth volunteers from around the nation.

But Meaghan, now a healthy 13-year-old, is not done with philanthropy. Though she is busy with friends and preparing to enter Pilgrim High School this fall (but only after reading the new Harry Potter book), she’s recruited her friends for another round of fundraising this summer.

“I just really wanted to give back to them because they helped me when I was little,” she said. “I wanted to help another kid so they can experience what I experienced.”

Her goal?

“I want to raise more money than last year,” she said.

Those close to her have no doubt she’ll do just that.

“She’s a great salesperson,” said Diana L. Hackney, president and chief executive of the state’s Make-A-Wish chapter. Her personal story, Hackney added, makes her irresistible to potential donors.

“How can you say no?” she asked.

IT WAS ACTUALLY during a previous trip to Disney World, when Meaghan was 4, that her parents first realized something was wrong.

Meaghan, an only child, was getting out of the pool when her parents noticed bruises all over her body. When the Spillanes returned home, they took her to her family physician, who referred them to Hasbro Children’s Hospital, in Providence. There, noted pediatrician Dr. Edwin N. Forman saw Meaghan. The family knew something was wrong when Forman walked into the waiting room trailed by a team of doctors.

Forman told them Meaghan had Fanconi anemia, a life-threatening genetic disorder.

“I was devastated,” said Steven, Meaghan’s father. “To tell your 4-year-old daughter that she’s sick and that there’s no cure . . . ”

Forman, who still treats Meaghan, said Fanconi anemia is rare. Both parents must carry the gene, and even so, there is only a one-in-four chance that a mother will give birth to a child with the disease.

It can be life-threatening. The main problem Fanconi anemia sufferers have is that they can develop aplastic anemia, which occurs 90 percent of the time, or leukemia, which occurs 12 percent of the time. Both are potentially fatal but can be cured by bone-marrow transplants; but bone marrow transplants would be a last resort, Forman said.

“You’re living on thin ice that might break, or under the sword of Damocles, as they say,” Forman said.

Fanconi anemia sufferers also have a much lower white-blood cell, hemoglobin and platelet count than that of a healthy person, which makes them much more susceptible to spontaneous hemorrhaging and bruising, Forman said. As a result, Meaghan had to be careful on the playground and couldn’t play contact sports.

“I work for Chuck E. Cheese’s, and to see all those kids running around and to see kids doing what she can’t do” is heartbreaking, Steven said.

Patricia quit working full time to take Meaghan on her frequent trips to the hospital. But over the next few years, Meaghan’s blood count began rising for no explicable reason, Forman said. For example, in her last checkup — now required only every three months — she had a platelet count of 120,000 per cubic millimeter — twice as high as it had been five or six years ago. (A normal platelet count is 150,000 per cubic millimeter.) Her white-blood cell and hemoglobin count have been approaching normal, too. Though those numbers could fall any time, Forman is confident they will stay up. She is still in some danger of aplastic anemia or a cancer developing, he added, but she also has a reasonable chance of having a normal lifespan.

Meaghan said she has never been worried.

“I have never been afraid of it,” she said.

Meaghan is able to do everything a 13-year-old can do, except play contact sports. She has found an outlet for her energy in dance. She dances a couple of times a week, and earlier this month she showed off her moves at her dance school’s annual concert. Her parents beamed as she bounced and swayed to music from Mary Poppins, Copacabana and Hairspray.

“I can throw all my energy into it,” Meaghan said. “It’s just really fun.”

FORMAN didn’t know that Meaghan had been honored for her volunteer work, but he wasn’t surprised.

“You might say she’s unlucky to have this condition,” he said, “but she’s lucky to have these parents.” And about her volunteer work, he added: “Sometimes a challenge stimulates a person to rise above it and persevere.”

swoo@projo.com


Thursday, January 11, 2007



Kabir is a kid who Dr. Shad was treating at Georgetown. The Hope for Henry Foundation gave him the Harry Potter books and Disney videos. I also loaded up for him a video iPod with some Disney movies and Harry Potter audio books. I hope he is using that on his flight back to India.

I have a lot of pictures of him. I will put some up on here.

This is a very sad story.



Teen Leaves 'His Only Hope' Behind in U.S.

After 20 Months, 14-Year-Old With Leukemia Returns Home, Saying No More Chemotherapy or Bone Marrow Transplants

By Susan Levine
Washington Post Staff Writer
Thursday, January 11, 2007; B01

They had spent a tiring weekend boxing up his Harry Potter books, his Disney videos, the games that had helped sustain 14-year-old Kabir Sekhri in this foreign land. And as his mother and father checked off their final packing details, so did Kabir's doctor. Her list included sterile dressing kits and needles, gamma globulin and antibiotics, methadone for pain -- enough to last him until spring, she had decided.

If only she could guarantee that his cancer would allow him that much time.

These were not the preparations anyone had envisioned when Kabir and his parents, Vikram and Sonia Sekhri, came to Washington from New Delhi almost 20 months ago. They had hoped for a triumphant return to India, a declaration of victory marked by the full recovery of Kabir's health, animated smile and thick, dark hair.

Instead, when the family arrived at Dulles International Airport late Tuesday afternoon, a frail-looking Kabir rode in a wheelchair. A navy knit cap concealed the damage wrought by chemotherapy. His leukemia had kept coming back with more and more vengeance until he unequivocally declared that he was done.

It was a wrenching decision, not only for his parents but for his oncologist, Aziza Shad, who had led his care at Georgetown University Hospital. Yet it was a decision they all felt compelled to honor.

The victory now was simply that he was there at the airport, stable enough medically to endure two long flights halfway around the world. Shad bent low to ask Kabir how he was feeling. She would be traveling the more than 9,000 miles with him.

"I made a promise I would get him home, and I need to stick to my promise," she said.

The journey on which they had embarked was not all that different from the journey many families take. Still, something about Kabir's gentle, uncomplaining manner and his extraordinary distance from home prompted the hospital staff and other patients and parents to embrace him in a singular way. The Sekhris reciprocated. And somehow, despite all the heartache, his mother found blessings. "God's been very kind," she'd say.

Kabir was 11 when he first became ill, and the doctors initially attributed his aches, fatigue and swollen lymph nodes to an infection. When his symptoms didn't respond to the usual medicine, they looked further. The correct diagnosis -- of T-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia -- came the same week that Kabir's grandfather succumbed to throat cancer after years of grueling treatment. "That was a tender moment for us because we had seen all the treatment fail," Kabir's father recalled. "We thought, 'How can a child go through this?' "

The Sekhris quickly learned. Kabir's particular disease assaults children more than adults, especially older boys, and it carries a poorer prognosis than other pediatric cancers. Though his body responded well enough to the early chemotherapy to put him in remission, he had not completed the full regimen when he relapsed.

"If you really want to do something for him, take him to America," their oncologist in India advised. The newest drugs were available in the United States, as were the best centers for the bone marrow transplant that probably would be needed to save his life. As his mother remembers, "We were told this was his only hope."

They boarded a plane in May 2005, leaving behind Vikram's leather goods business and everything Kabir knew: his beloved sister and the aunts, uncles and cousins who make up the Sekhris' close-knit extended family, the friends he had played with his entire childhood, the dusty, teeming city of Delhi. A relative in Falls Church had contacted Shad, head of the pediatric oncology division at Georgetown's Lombardi Cancer Center. Would she evaluate his case? Did she think he had a chance?

Yes, she did.

Four months of highly aggressive chemotherapy drugs ravaged Kabir but pushed his body into a second remission that made him a candidate for a bone marrow transplant. The perfect donor: his 16-year-old sister, Ridhima. She flew from India, and the family traveled to Duke University Medical Center for the procedure. The graft took well enough that when Kabir returned to Washington in early 2006, he was out of the hospital far more than in it, giving him a chance at memories not integrally tied to pain.

He went to New York, visiting the Statue of Liberty and gawking at Times Square. He also became an enthusiastic camper at a National Institutes of Health program for children battling cancer, canoeing and riding horses and even trying fencing.

"I want to come back from India every year for this camp!" he exclaimed upon his return.

The Sekhris started counting the days to the first anniversary of Kabir's transplant. By September, it seemed likely that they would make it, which would mean that Kabir would be able to be fly to India in time for a cousin's wedding celebration. He'd already bought new clothes.

He never wore them, however. The one-year checkup at Duke revealed a second relapse. The news was shattering. "Everything came to a standstill," his father said. In an instant, wedding travel became impossible, as did his son's greatest hope: to tell everyone back home that he at last was well.

Kabir was readmitted to Georgetown, and the weeks that followed deteriorated in a horrific downward spiral. He rejected any talk of another transplant but acquiesced to Shad's entreaties for one final attempt at chemo. She tried different toxins and combinations as her patient grew ever weaker, wracked by days of extreme fevers, numbness and bleeding. He stopped eating and virtually stopped communicating. When he did talk, he'd say plaintively, in a wispy voice made almost childlike by the drugs: "I just want to go home." Shad feared he'd never leave the hospital.

But just after Christmas, after the final drug in Western medicine's arsenal, a bone marrow biopsy showed the unexpected -- a partial remission. No matter, Kabir reminded her; he'd said he was finished. But Shad, who has a son just one year younger, still is struggling with that. "All I know is that this child gave it his best," she reflected late last week. "He gave it again and again and again and again."

On the afternoon of his departure, the staff at the Lombardi Center threw the Sekhris a cake-and-tears send-off. Then the family and Shad headed to Dulles. Kabir might have wished he'd seen more of America. "I would have liked to have gone to Disney World," he admitted. Not this trip.

His small entourage proceeded to a secluded alcove of an airport lounge. Kabir snacked on french fries, glimpsed at long last the swirling white magic of a brief snow shower and fell asleep under the handmade quilt given to him at the hospital.

"It's time," his mother quietly roused him. The teenager sat up in an instant and readjusted his navy knit cap. And as his parents followed close behind, an attendant wheeled him the final distance down the corridor to gate 32, through the last checkpoint and onto the plane.

He never looked back.

Sunday, October 22, 2006


It is the start of the Henry Birthday Pageant. All of your doctors came into town for it.

Actually, there is a meeting of the Fanconi Anemia Research Fund in Bethesda that they have all come to attend. On Thursday night we went out there with Joe and Jack to say hello. We saw Dr. McMillan, Dr. Auerbach and Lynn and Dave Frohnmayer.

There were a few other "Fanconi Families" there. One family is the McQueen's of Richmond. I wonder if they know about Jared DeMarco. The McQueen's are super nice. They are raising a lot of money for research. I met the kids for the first time. There is a daughter and the little boy, Casey, has Fanconi.



He is 7 years old. Very handsome guy. I had the usual feeling of just wanting to hug him tight.

It was especially nice seeing Lynn and Dave. I was remembering when Dave had a heart attack when he was here in Washington years ago. You were still around and must have been well. We lent Lynn our car and tried to help them out as much as possible. Luckily he was in a room full of doctors when he started to have trouble. He came through it all okay.

Lynn and Dave lost 2 daughters to Fanconi and their other daughter, Amy, has FA too. She is in college. There are two sons as well. Honestly, I do not know how they do it. On top of running the Fanconi Anemia Research Fund and being a parent, Dave is the president of a college. That is a huge job.

Last night we went out for dinner with Dr. Auerbach. It is always nice spending time with Dr. Auerbach. She said that Dr. Gillio was here for just a little bit and then headed out. After dinner we met up with Dr. Wagner and his wife. We talked a lot about you -- one of my most favorite things to do. Dr. Wagner remembered how he used to see you at hotels and Georgetown when he came to DC. Mom and I learned a lot more about you and what happened, and how Fanconi transplants are going now. They are going much better. Timing. Timing. Timing.

Dr. Wagner is an amazing man. You and Fanconi Anemia let me and Mom meet really remarkable people -- people who we probably would never meet otherwise.

We talked about the fact that you've been dead four years. To me that is officially way too long. I can't say, "he died a year or so ago," anymore. I think I wrote "dead" here because it is harsher than "gone." I feel like you've been dead, not gone.

Dr. Wagner, Dr. Auerbach, Dr. Hughes, Lynn and Dave are Tzaddikim. A Tzaddik is a righteous person. I feel fortunate to know them. I feel fortunate to know there are people like them who devote themselves to saving lives. It makes me feel hopeful.

Yesterday during the day we went to a farm with Susan, Simon and Alex. I asked Mom about the pictures we took of you and Jack at Butler's Orchard. She is going to find them for me.







Today we went to a book signing at Politics & Prose. Jeffrey Goldberg wrote a book. Mom just read it and I will read it when she is finished. I think it will be weird to read about someone you know. Maybe that is why I haven't read all of the book that Mom has written about you and her.

I remember buying Harry Potter CDs at Politics & Prose with you and Jack. Jack was psyched he went with us today because some of his Gan buddies were there, Sam Shoyer and Jacob Stern. Both of you made the best friends there. Mom and I are a little worried that Joe doesn't have any close friends like you and Jack have.

We are going to go with Simon to Cactus Cantina on Wednesday night for your birthday. Ari and Jake, are coming too. Today I was looking at the picture of the four of you -- Henry, Simon, Ari, Jake -- that I have in my Henry memory box. That made me sad. Mom is really sad right now too.

Twice in the past few days someone has asked me, "Do you know what the worst day is?" One was a friend from work and he answered his own question, "the day we start daylight savings time." The other person was Jack. He said the worst day is the day before school starts.

I didn't say anything when they asked that question, but my mind was shouting "October 25!" I think that is the worst day until December comes around and then it is definitely December 11.

The Cardinals are in the World Series. We are pulling for them. I hope Aunt Jen gets to go to some games. She went to one of the Championship games. I don't know if Cousin Hannah and Uncle Dan got to go.

Hey, I wanted to tell you a funny story. We were telling Papa Teddy about Jack's saxophone lessons and he told us how we came to have the instrument. Your great-grandfather was a used car dealer in Brooklyn. He bought a car from someone or someone traded in a car and guess what they found in the trunk.

Sunday, December 18, 2005


Right down to "superhero" Trent sounds a lot like you. I can't imagine how these parents feel losing two sons. The night before your death day last week I dreamt that both Joe and Jack died. I remember in my dream that I didn't know how to tell people. It was too hard.

Today is my birthday. It'll never really be a "Happy Birthday" without you around. I miss you.


Teen touched many in his short life
Grand Prairie: He's called a superhero for staying upbeat in face of illness

Sunday, December 18, 2005
By KATHY A. GOOLSBY / The Dallas Morning News

GRAND PRAIRIE – Trent Parum's short life was defined by illness, but what will stay with his parents was his zest for living.

From left: Trent Parum's brother Matt, mother, Sally, and father, Mike, show a photo of the 16-year-old, who died Dec. 6 of Fanconi's anemia, a genetic disease. "Despite the overwhelming physical difficulties and impediments he suffered, Trent made do with what he had and enjoyed the things he could do," said his father, Mike Parum. "He didn't dwell on the things he couldn't do."

Trent, a sophomore at Grand Prairie High School, died of Fanconi's anemia on Dec. 6, three weeks shy of his 17th birthday.

Only a few weeks earlier, Mr. Parum took his son to a showing of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It didn't matter that Trent was blind and couldn't see the screen.

"He loved the Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter movies," said his mother, Sally Parum.

Trent, the youngest of three sons, was diagnosed in 1990 as having two life-threatening illnesses – the Fanconi's anemia, a congenital disease that affects the body's ability to produce cells, and acute lymphocytic leukemia. A bone marrow transplant resulted in the graft-vs.-host disease that scarred Trent's corneas and eventually robbed him of his vision.

Tests showed that Trent's brother Brett, who was three years older, also had Fanconi's anemia, which is genetic. Doctors suggested doing a bone marrow transplant while Brett was still healthy, but his body rejected the graft. He was 7 ½ when he died in October 1992.

Although chemotherapy cured Trent's leukemia, the Fanconi's anemia continued to affect his body. He never grew beyond the size of a 4-year-old, and his lung capacity diminished over the years, forcing him to use a wheelchair to conserve oxygen.

But somehow Trent remained upbeat and positive, said Larry Keirn, pastor of Turnpike Church of Christ, where the family worships.

"It didn't matter what came his way, Trent always had a great attitude," Mr. Keirn said. "It's hard to imagine with all those health problems, but what we'd think of as being limiting, I don't think he thought of that way."

Trent was a superhero, said Travis Dosier, a friend since preschool. But Travis also remembered doing normal kid things with Trent and his brother Matt, now 22.

One of his favorite memories happened when he and Trent were about 8 years old.

"Me and Matt used to go outside at night, and Trent would go out and pretend there was a monster," said Travis, 16. "He'd holler, 'There's a vampire!' and we'd all run back inside."

During a memorial service at Turnpike Church of Christ on Dec. 9, Trent's infectious smile and keen sense of humor were mentioned repeatedly.

Family friend D. Gene Strother said he would tell Trent, " 'I want to be like you when I grow up.' He'd say, 'You couldn't be like me because you'd never be as good looking as me.' "

Trent learned Braille to keep up with his studies at Grand Prairie High, where his mother teaches language arts. Although some of the math classes were beginning to challenge Trent, Mrs. Parum said, he excelled at English and history.

"He was just very intelligent and full of energy," said principal Rose-Levy Brenner, who also knew Trent when he attended Adams Middle School. "I think he touched a lot of people's lives in ways he didn't even realize."

In August, two weeks into the school year, escalating lung problems forced Trent to begin homebound studies. A few weeks ago, his father talked to him about the future.

Mr. Parum wondered what would happen in another 50 years.

"I said, 'Your mother and I won't be here. It'll just be you and Matt,' and he said, 'I think I'll die at a young age because of my health,' " Mr. Parum said.

"So he was very much aware of his health, but he never complained."

Staff writer Herb Booth contributed to this report.

E-mail kgoolsby@dallasnews.com

Friday, October 28, 2005


You know how Mom had that great idea to get Harry Potter books for the kids in the hospital. She had another great idea the other day. She wants to get nice costumes and bring them to the hospital for Halloween. I remember the last Halloween when you and I trick or treated through the different departments at Georgetown. You weren't allowed to go out with the other kids so this was a good alternative. We had a good time going to Radiology and Physical Therapy and everywhere else. I don't think you were Batman. I think you were Anakin or some Star Wars character.

Speaking of Star Wars, Jack and Joe were both Darth Vader for Halloween. Anakin becomes Darth Vader in the last movie. It was called Revenge of the Sith. You would have liked it a lot.



Your brothers went to the dark side.



Wednesday, August 17, 2005


Kind of a wacky article, but your name is in it.


Fewer red blood cells

By Jen Waters

August 16, 2005

Laurie Strongin is holding out hope for many critically ill children.

In honor of her son, Henry, who died in 2002 at age 7 of Fanconi anemia, she started the Hope for Henry Foundation, a nonprofit organization that brings laughter and smiles into the lives of children with life-threatening illnesses.

With the release of "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince," Ms. Strongin, who lives in Northwest, hosted Harry Potter book parties at Georgetown University Hospital in Northwest and Hackensack University Medical Center in New Jersey.

"Henry's disease was different than some of the other anemias because it was absolutely life-threatening," Ms. Strongin says. "It was as serious as cancer."

Although the average person usually associates anemia with low iron levels, there are close to 100 different types of anemia with many causes, including serious disease, blood loss, genetic predisposition, side-effects of medication or vitamin deficiencies. Depending on the form of the disease, it can range from mild to severe.

Although there are differences in the severity of the anemias, they all lead to the same endpoint -- the number of red blood cells in the body decreases, says Dr. Sophie Lanzkron, director of the Sickle Cell Center for Adults at Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore.

"If you're anemic, you shouldn't just let it go," Dr. Lanzkron says. "You can't just say, 'I've been anemic all my life.' "

Generally, anemia is caused by inadequate production or increased destruction of red blood cells, says Dr. Lawrence Lessin, medical director of the Washington Cancer Institute at Washington Hospital Center in Northwest.

In patients with deficient amounts of iron, vitamin B12 or folic acid, red blood cell formation usually is impaired, he says.

Red blood cell forma tion also can be sup pressed by cancers, in fection, inflammatory diseases, chemical radia tion, medication, and viruses, such as HIV, hepatitis and cytomegalovirus.

Fanconi anemia, an inherited anemia, involves the failure of bone marrow to produce all types of blood cells. Many children with the disease have bone marrow transplants.

Increased red blood cell destruction, which generally is not improved by additional iron supplementation and can possibly make it worse, can be seen in association with sickle cell disease, Cooley's anemia, spherocytosis, hypersplenism and parasites, such as malaria.

"It's an extremely complicated issue, but a very common problem," Dr. Lessin says. "Each time you find a case it leads you to look further to the true root cause."

By American standards, more than half the people in the world are anemic, Dr. Lessin says. People in Third World countries especially suffer from iron loss or uncompensated blood loss, for reasons such as giving birth or parasites.

However, in the United States, at least 25 percent of people entering the hospital are anemic, and physicians must treat the underlying disease to relieve the anemia, Dr. Lessin says. Diagnosis is made through a simple blood test.

Sickle cell disease is a severe form of anemia that is commonly inherited by people of African descent, says William P. Winter, deputy director of the Howard University Center for Sickle Cell Disease in Northwest. He holds a doctorate in biochemical genetics.

Since the sickle cell gene originated in Africa, it is believed that the condition is the body's way of adapting in order to survive malaria, he says.

A person who has one normal gene and one sickle cell gene has the sickle trait. If the person's spouse also carried the trait, the couple's children could inherit the disease.

The disease involves an abnormal structure of the hemoglobin, which is the oxygen-carrying protein that makes blood red, Mr. Winter says. In the process of delivering oxygen to the tissues, the red blood cells change shape, becoming long and thin, he says. Since they are abnormal, they are destroyed in the liver, causing anemia.

"If a cell is old and feeble and not doing its job, it gets destroyed," Mr. Winter says. "That's normal life. In sickle cell, they are being broken down much faster than the body can replace them."

Most anemias cause people to be tired and unable to perform physical tasks, which affects the person's quality of life, he says.

Curing sickle cell disease is like trying to "cure" someone of their eye color, Mr. Winter says. With a genetic disease, most doctors focus on sustaining the patient's life.

Blood transfusions often help, as long as the patient doesn't become allergic to the transfused blood, Mr. Winter says. In cases of stroke, damaged liver or acute chest syndrome, blood transfusions are particularly important. Also, the drug Hydroxyurea can help prevent episodes of pain associated with sickle cell disease.

In some cases of sickle cell disease, a bone marrow transplant can be extremely effective when it's accepted by the body, he says. A bone marrow transplant allows the body to make a new set of red blood cells.

"The body could reject the bone marrow," Mr. Winter says. "It all has to do with having a perfect donor."

Blood transfusions are almost always necessary when treating Cooley's anemia, also known as thalassemia major, says Dr. Vasili Berdoukas, honorary pediatrician at the Sydney Children's Hospital in Australia. He is a leading authority in clinical care and research in thalassemia. He currently lives in Northwest.

The inherited condition usually affects people of Mediterranean, Northern African, Middle Eastern and Asian heritage. Similar to sickle cell disease, the adaptation of the cells in the carrier state, known as thalassemia minor, is thought to protect a child against dying from malaria.

Through the blood transfusions, people with Cooley's anemia acquire more iron than they need, he says. Therefore, patients also need treatment to remove iron. Otherwise, it could cause organ damage, especially to the heart.

"Because iron is scarce, bodies are made to conserve iron," Dr. Berdoukas says. "We keep it and have no mechanism for getting rid of it."

In order to remove iron, Pranav Saha, 25, of Odenton, Md., sleeps with a needle in his stomach that is attached to a pump delivering the medication Desferal. Patients are waiting for a drug that can be taken by mouth to remove the iron.

"A lot of times, thalassemia can be mistaken for regular iron deficiency," Mr. Saha says. "Giving iron is exactly the opposite of what you should be doing. You can't assume that someone has an iron deficiency."

Copyright © 2005 News World Communications, Inc. All rights reserved.

Friday, July 29, 2005




GIVING BACK

By ELIZABETH BERNSTEIN
Staff Reporter of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL
July 29, 2005; Page W2

If you'd like to help give items such as iPods, portable DVD players or the latest Harry Potter book to children undergoing bone-marrow transplants and other life-saving treatments in three hospitals, the Hope for Henry Foundation can help. The Washington, D.C., nonprofit is run by the parents of Henry Strongin Goldberg, who died of the rare genetic disease Fanconi anemia at age 7 in 2002. For more information, go to www.hopeforhenry.org.

Have any thoughts on this Giving Back column? Write to Elizabeth Bernstein at givingback@wsj.com

Monday, July 18, 2005


Hey, look, it's your brother, Joey Potter. Joe got into the spirit of things this weekend.



On Friday night at midnight we went to Politics & Prose to wrap a whole bunch of Harry Potter books to take to Georgetown the next morning. Mom, Jack and I had an assembly line going -- with Mom doing most of the work, of course. I am a lousy wrapper. I did most of the carrying though. I am good at that.

On Saturday morning we went to the clinic at Georgetown for a party. All of the kids were really excited. Uncle Stinky read some trivia questions, and one of the patients read the first chapter. It was fun.





On Saturday night, the Hope for Henry Foundation delivered books to the kids on the transplant floor at Fairview. The cool thing is that Jason put the books on everyone's dinner trays. I was worried that there would be kids like you who wouldn't eat dinner, but then I remembered that there would be daddies like me who would eat their kids' meals.

From all reports the kids in Minnesota were also psyched to get their books.



Here is a picture of one of the kids wearing his Hope for Henry Foundation gift, his iPod, while he is reading the new Harry Potter book. How cool is that.



It was a crazy weekend because we also drove out to the Eastern Shore, right near Nana and Papa Sy's house, to see our friends the Knapps. Their house and their farm were beautiful. We went fishing and kayaking, so I guess that is what everyone does on the Eastern Shore.





This was my favorite part. There was a basketball net in the barn. I think they should put lights in there so you can play all night. This is heaven.



Jack and Joe's favorite part had to be the Emu farm that was next door. They look like ostriches. Of course Jack knew all about them.





They also have two of these motorized thingies. Remember the one we had in Minnesota. I never told you and Jack that I donated it to the hospital because I couldn't fit it on top of the car for the ride back to DC. Sorry.



On Monday we headed up to New York and New Jersey for more Hope for Henry stuff. Jack went with, while Joe stayed home and went to camp at the Gan. We made a stop in New York City and went on TV to talk about what we were doing.

After the TV show we headed over to the Pokemon store. Guess what. It isn't the Pokemon store anymore. It is the Nintendo store.

We then drove to Hackensack for a Harry Potter book party at the Tomorrow Children's Institute clinic. Everyone was there, Dr. Gillio and Dr. Brochstein.

I hadn't been back to Hackensack since you were alive. I lived for every foot of the hospital, the clinic, the hallways, the elevators, rooms and everywhere you used to be. We visited a kid in your room at the end of the hall. It looked just the same.

I went and looked at the showers where I would sneak off to so I could get clean before you got up. I was always worried you'd wake up alone before I got back. They had good water pressure. I checked out the lounge where I spent my birthday one year. I looked in on the room where Papa Teddy and I would watch football games. I miss those rooms and those times.





When we were through at the hospital, we made one last stop before driving home. We bought a Hero Bear for Joe and I think Jack got a comic book.



I am looking at a picture of you and crying. It is all so hard but hard is good.

I miss you.