Ten years ago, on July 6 2007 I should have been happy when I heard these words: Hi Michael, yeahhhhh, is it a boy or a girl? These were the words from my family who along with everyone else were thrilled to be welcoming the birth of our first child. Actually, that's not why we are calling you. We are calling to let you know some bad news - that I have just been diagnosed with cancer, ALL leukemia. After announcing these words there was silence on the other end of the phone, and then crying. Friends and family could not believe the news especially with my wife being nine months pregnant.
On July 6, 2007, exactly one week before our first daughter Charlotte was born I was diagnosed with ALL leukemia. The doctors made it very clear that this was an acute disease and that I would have to be admitted into hospital immediately for at least 30 days. They outlined their suggested treatment plan: a new, two-year clinical trial that was showing some promising early results. They also made it very clear that the next two years would not be easy. I would endure chemo therapy at times on a daily basis, radiation, bone marrow biopsies, lumbar punctures, blood transfusions, endless medications, 60 lbs. of weight loss, etc., etc., and would be out of work for an extended period of time. This was a complete shock to us and I wondered how we would cope with my wife nine months pregnant, me being out of work for a long time and getting chemo and radiation treatments for the next two years. In addition, we were also informed that we would probably never be able to have children again due to the high doses and frequency of chemo therapy treatments.
Our first daughter Charlotte was born exactly a week later on July 13, 2007. I was in surgery that day getting a Hickman line installed. That's the line used to administer chemo therapy and to draw blood. I still have my scar to remind me of the day. Because of that surgery I almost was not allowed to leave the hospital that day to be with my wife when she was giving birth in a different hospital almost 25 miles away. After some lengthy negotiations, I was allowed a temporary leave but had to be back to Brigham and Women's hospital by midnight at the latest or else I would be in jeopardy of being removed from the clinical trial. So, at around 10 p.m. that night with my wife in labor I had to apologize and leave her. When I got the chemo therapy around 11 p.m. I made my way back to Beverly hospital and missed the birth of our first child by about 15 minutes. I stayed there for the next several hours cherishing everything we had but knew that I would have to leave and be re-admitted into hospital for the next several weeks.
The next two years were tough, very tough. The low point was the following July when I was admitted into the intensive care unit with PCP pneumonia. I can honestly say that was the longest night of my life and the doctors even told my family to go in there and say goodbye because there is nothing else we can do for him. When I heard this I thought of my wife Sara and daughter Charlotte and said there is no way this is happening to me tonight. The physical and mental stress of those two years is nothing that words will ever describe.
My wife Sara was amazing and if not for her too, I would not be here today. She made the one-hour trip into Boston to see me in hospital every day and always made sure to bring Charlotte along. This gave me the strength and energy that I needed to keep fighting. My parents sold their house in Vermont and moved closer to us and my family was always close by to help out. My brother John even camped out in the room with me for a month! Everyone at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute and Brigham and Women's hospital were amazing. A huge thank you to Dr. Sirulnik and Dr. Wadleigh, PA Adrianna and the best nurses anywhere - Kristin, Marsha and Heather.
Now, ten years later, we have three daughters: Charlotte, Margaret and Brigid. I also have the privilege to work at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute as a project manager. Last winter was one of the happiest of my life as Charlotte, Margaret and I spent almost every weekend skiing and snowboarding in New Hampshire and Maine. I watched them begin as novices to grow into skiing/snowboarding black diamond runs by the end of the season. Charlotte skis and Margaret of course does the opposite, snowboarding :) Sara continues to be an amazing wife and is still busy with our one year old daughter Brigid. Life is good again.
I promised myself that if I am still here in ten years that I would ride the Pan Mass Challenge to raise funds for Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. ThankfulIy I am still here and am planning to ride the Pan Mass Challenge bike ride in August to support the excellent work of Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. 100% of your contribution goes towards beating cancer. The ride is 192 miles over two days. My fundraising minimum is almost $5,000.00 and I would be extremely grateful if you would consider donating to support me. I am riding this bike ride and fundraising so that others can get a second chance like me to enjoy their life with friends and family. If it were not for previous riders and other contributors to Dana-Farber I would not be here today writing this story. Please, consider contributing, even a small contribution helps.
Thank you all again, stay positive, enjoy every day as a gift and go raibh mile maith agat (thank you in Gaelic).
Michael, Sara, Charlotte, Margaret and Brigid
Ten years ago, on July 6 2007 I should have been happy when I heard these words: Hi Michael, yeahhhhh, is it a boy or a girl? These were the words from my family who along with everyone else were thrilled to be welcoming the birth of our first child. Actually, that's not why we are calling you. We are calling to let you know some bad news - that I have just been diagnosed with cancer, ALL leukemia. After announcing these words there was silence on the other end of the phone, and then crying. Friends and family could not believe the news especially with my wife being nine months pregnant.
On July 6, 2007, exactly one week before our first daughter Charlotte was born I was diagnosed with ALL leukemia. The doctors made it very clear that this was an acute disease and that I would have to be admitted into hospital immediately for at least 30 days. They outlined their suggested treatment plan: a new, two-year clinical trial that was showing some promising early results. They also made it very clear that the next two years would not be easy. I would endure chemo therapy at times on a daily basis, radiation, bone marrow biopsies, lumbar punctures, blood transfusions, endless medications, 60 lbs. of weight loss, etc., etc., and would be out of work for an extended period of time. This was a complete shock to us and I wondered how we would cope with my wife nine months pregnant, me being out of work for a long time and getting chemo and radiation treatments for the next two years. In addition, we were also informed that we would probably never be able to have children again due to the high doses and frequency of chemo therapy treatments.
Our first daughter Charlotte was born exactly a week later on July 13, 2007. I was in surgery that day getting a Hickman line installed. That's the line used to administer chemo therapy and to draw blood. I still have my scar to remind me of the day. Because of that surgery I almost was not allowed to leave the hospital that day to be with my wife when she was giving birth in a different hospital almost 25 miles away. After some lengthy negotiations, I was allowed a temporary leave but had to be back to Brigham and Women's hospital by midnight at the latest or else I would be in jeopardy of being removed from the clinical trial. So, at around 10 p.m. that night with my wife in labor I had to apologize and leave her. When I got the chemo therapy around 11 p.m. I made my way back to Beverly hospital and missed the birth of our first child by about 15 minutes. I stayed there for the next several hours cherishing everything we had but knew that I would have to leave and be re-admitted into hospital for the next several weeks.
The next two years were tough, very tough. The low point was the following July when I was admitted into the intensive care unit with PCP pneumonia. I can honestly say that was the longest night of my life and the doctors even told my family to go in there and say goodbye because there is nothing else we can do for him. When I heard this I thought of my wife Sara and daughter Charlotte and said there is no way this is happening to me tonight. The physical and mental stress of those two years is nothing that words will ever describe.
My wife Sara was amazing and if not for her too, I would not be here today. She made the one-hour trip into Boston to see me in hospital every day and always made sure to bring Charlotte along. This gave me the strength and energy that I needed to keep fighting. My parents sold their house in Vermont and moved closer to us and my family was always close by to help out. My brother John even camped out in the room with me for a month! Everyone at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute and Brigham and Women's hospital were amazing. A huge thank you to Dr. Sirulnik and Dr. Wadleigh, PA Adrianna and the best nurses anywhere - Kristin, Marsha and Heather.
Now, ten years later, we have three daughters: Charlotte, Margaret and Brigid. I also have the privilege to work at Dana-Farber Cancer Institute as a project manager. Last winter was one of the happiest of my life as Charlotte, Margaret and I spent almost every weekend skiing and snowboarding in New Hampshire and Maine. I watched them begin as novices to grow into skiing/snowboarding black diamond runs by the end of the season. Charlotte skis and Margaret of course does the opposite, snowboarding :) Sara continues to be an amazing wife and is still busy with our one year old daughter Brigid. Life is good again.
I promised myself that if I am still here in ten years that I would ride the Pan Mass Challenge to raise funds for Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. ThankfulIy I am still here and am planning to ride the Pan Mass Challenge bike ride in August to support the excellent work of Dana-Farber Cancer Institute. 100% of your contribution goes towards beating cancer. The ride is 192 miles over two days. My fundraising minimum is almost $5,000.00 and I would be extremely grateful if you would consider donating to support me. I am riding this bike ride and fundraising so that others can get a second chance like me to enjoy their life with friends and family. If it were not for previous riders and other contributors to Dana-Farber I would not be here today writing this story. Please, consider contributing, even a small contribution helps.
Thank you all again, stay positive, enjoy every day as a gift and go raibh mile maith agat (thank you in Gaelic).
Michael, Sara, Charlotte, Margaret and Brigid
| 2017 | $9,750.00 | Sturbridge to Provincetown Monument (2-Day) |
| 2016 | $0.00 | PMC Volunteer |
| 2010 | $0.00 | PMC Volunteer |
Click the button below to donate by Venmo. Please leave the preset message in the Venmo payment note field; this information will be used to direct your donation to your intended PMC participant.
Michael Madden
