Archive for Newsworthy: Everyday Acts of Kindness.

His Wife

Husband & Wife

(Seattle, Washington)

Newsworthy: Everyday acts of kindness. (5)

A blog series highlighting the art of caregiving.

Photo narrative by: Wife

©Suzanne Fiore Photography

Early in 2019, my husband had odd symptoms.  Numbness and lack of feeling around his mouth along with excess saliva. In February, he noticed weakness in his left hand and started dropping things. These symptoms showed up slowly and he/we passed them off as annoyances, not anything to worry about. On February 14th, his fellow employees insisted that he leave work and go get medical care.  We talked about going to urgent care, but when I told a friend (with a nursing background) about his symptoms, she told me that he needed to go to the ER, not urgent care.  So, on Valentine’s Day, we were at the ER instead of going out to dinner.  ER personnel looked at him, took vitals and sent him for a CAT scan.  They told us the CAT scan showed a “mass” on his brain and ordered an MRI.  The MRI showed he had brain cancer, most likely Glioblastoma! The next step was the Most difficult – tell our children.  Ironically, we were in the middle of a week of snow (very unusual in our area).  Our children dropped everything and were there the next day.On Wednesday, Feb 20, my husband underwent hours of surgery to remove as much tumor as possible.  Because it was located near the motor skills control center, it was possible there would be additional side effects including paralysis.  The surgeon estimated 90-95% was removed and things looked very hopeful. After 4 weeks of recovery from the surgery, my husband underwent 6 weeks of chemotherapy and (brain) radiation, he was doing quite well.  Family, friends and medical personnel were very happy with his progress.  Unfortunately, blood tests showed low platelet (blood clotting agent in blood) levels. Levels were better by the end of May and he began the first of six treatments in June of double dose chemo med.  Again, his platelets dropped very low and he took meds to bring levels back up.  His red cell levels also dropped, his appetite decreased considerably, he lost energy and stamina and his attitude deteriorated. In late June, he had a seizure and he’s alive today due to the valiant effort by his daughter who performed CPR and son-in-law who stayed on the call with 911 for advice on what to do. It was the end of July before his blood counts were high enough for him to take round 2 of chemo treatment. Once again, platelets plus his red and white cell levels were too low. He received two platelet infusions plus a blood transfusion in August. Finally, his medical team decided to reduce the dosage of the chemo medication.  It was September before blood levels were good enough to complete treatment 3.  He did fine – all blood levels stayed up and we’ve all been happy with the progress he’s making.

 In September, we traveled back to Seattle to UW Med Center for a follow-up with the neuro-oncologist who oversaw his treatment back in February.  He agreed with the process his local team was using, was happy with my husband’s progress and said recent studies show 6 monthly sessions of the chemo med is optimal.  At the time of writing this (October 2019), my husband is in his 4th session of chemo and with the lower dose we don’t expect any issues. His employer immediately offered short-term disability and our medical insurance continued, both of which have sustained us for months.  Because he would be 65 in July, we started the paperwork to begin receiving pension distributions, Social Security and Medicare. It’s quite a process to complete all that, we’re thankful the paperwork is done, and distributions have started.  He now also receives long-term disability. We are one of the fortunate couples that doesn’t have to worry about finances.So far, this has been a review of the physical aspects. Now I’ll try to write about the emotional effects on me, the primary caregiver, and his children, grandchildren and friends.  We were all shocked and saddened with the diagnosis. At the hospitals in Seattle, his children and I were all under great stress and worry which led to high emotions and disagreements among us. For me, as Mom, this was one of the hardest parts: squabbling among my children. Thank goodness, we were able to talk things out and work together as a team.  We set up a Facebook group page to keep family and friends out of the area posted with updates and information and had much support from all included. Another difficulty for me was that I was now primary driver – it would be months before my husband would be able to drive (as of writing this, he still can’t), especially after the seizure in June.  He has struggled with the loss of control over his life and abilities and when his frustration came out as “bad attitude”, I really struggle to not feel hurt and angry.  On top of the emotional feelings, it was up to me to keep up with the medical and financial records, doctor appointments, be sure his medications were on hand and ready for him as needed, complete paperwork needed for retirement benefits, social security and a long-term disability.  Probably needless to say, I began to feel exhausted emotionally and mentally – my brain seemed “overloaded” and I had trouble keeping up with ‘stuff’ at times. To cope with this “stuff”, I vented to family and friends, went for walks, made phone calls to family and friends, often when not at home (so I didn’t upset Ross) and cried in private.   

I created an Excel worksheet to track low blood levels – it grew much larger than we expected as several months went by with weekly Dr appts and labs (sometimes more than once a week). In July, we had a weekend gathering with our 4 children, their spouses and children, we went to a grandson’s birthday party, and we drove to a beach town to visit with a cousin of my husband who was vacationing there – things that he wouldn’t have been able to do in June and definitely good breaks from medical stuff. In August, the weekly appointments continued, and we stayed close to home.  Family members visited in May, June, September and October and helped our morale considerably. In October, we’ve been able to make the 6-hour drive to the town my siblings and their families live in for visits and for community events. Visits with Family and Friends have definitely helped us through this. Things have improved since June physically, emotionally and mentally for both of us.  The need for platelet and blood infusion was more frustrating than worrisome and, at this point, things look good. My husband has come to terms with having cancer, has a better attitude when blood levels are good and looks forward to only 2 more sessions of the chemo medication.Beginning in late July, he decided he didn’t always need someone with him, has had no signs of a seizure and I’ve been able to enjoy some retail therapy. I’ve also enjoyed being able to work – it’s been a good distraction from medical frustrations. Also, my employer is a Great Friend and has helped me tremendously throughout this ordeal.  Our children continue to support us, my siblings have helped when needed and many friends have called or messaged often to see how we are doing.The sad part of our story is that the cancer my husband has does not go into remission nor can it be “killed”. It is terminal and the primary way to find out if the tumor is growing again is with MRIs, which are planned for every 3 months.  From Day 2 we decided not to focus on what will happen eventually – hopefully later, not sooner.

For more information about Glioblastoma Multiforme, please click here.

Billy & Meredith

Billy & Meredith

Newsworthy: Everyday acts of kindness. (4)

A new blog series highlighting the art of caregiving.

Photo narrative by: Meredith Wright

©Suzanne Fiore Photography

My brother, Billy, has a beautiful smile. He also happens to have Down syndrome, epilepsy, hypothyroidism, and mild autism spectrum symptoms. It’s refreshing to have an outlet where I can share all the best things about Billy, as so often on forms and in meetings, caregivers are forced to focus on all the things that their loved one can’t do.Billy loves listening to music in the car with the windows down. He also loves to swim with our Dad, and he’ll give you his cheek if you ask for a kiss. When Billy hugs you, it often feels like he’s going to knock you over from how tightly he pulls you close.Billy loves eating at our Grandma’s house. He likes eating anywhere, really.

Since my Mom’s passing in 2015, my Dad and I have been Billy’s co-guardians. Stepping into this role has changed my relationship with Billy significantly. I have always loved him and have been inspired to work in science/healthcare because of his influence on my life. But now that love is fiercer, as an adult sibling relationship involves not only love but also advocacy and caregiving.A few months after my Mom passed away, my Dad and I made the difficult decision to move Billy into a group home. We were fortunate to find a group home near our hometown run by the Arc of Essex County, which also ran his preschool and current day program. I often wish I could clone myself, and have one Meredith go to graduate school while the other Meredith cares for Billy. But since this isn’t possible, I’ve learned to work with the group home managers and staff to make sure Billy’s needs are met. Between Billy’s day program, group home, family, and friends, we work as a team to try to create the best possible “Plan B” in my Mom’s absence. 

Billy has always liked sticking to a routine, and so the new routine we have is that roughly every two weeks my fiancé and I travel from NYC to NJ and pick up Billy from his group home. We drive to our Grandma’s house, playing music for Billy on the way.When we get there, Grandma always has something delicious waiting for us to eat. 

We then have time to hang out, or take care of random little things like cutting Billy’s nails, trying on new clothes for him, or running some errands together. Then we usually meet our Dad later on for dinner, before heading back to Billy’s group home in time for his evening dose of seizure medications.  When we’re together, I try to give Billy as many hugs and kisses as possible, so that he’ll know how loved he is even when I’m not there in person. Since Billy’s verbal skills are not at a level where he can have a conversation, it’s hard to know how much he understands. But when we’re together, he always leans in for huge hugs and kisses. He communicates his love for us this way, and I truly believe he understands how much we love him too.

If you are a sibling of an individual with special needs, please find information, resources, and support here.

If you are a sibling of someone with special needs in NYC, visit sibsNY for resources and support.

The Celentano Family

The Celentano Family

Newsworthy: Everyday acts of kindness. (3)

A new blog series highlighting the art of caregiving.

Photo narrative by: Teresa Celentano

©Suzanne Fiore Photography

My life, the life I thought I was supposed to have, was supposed to be simple.  Quiet.  Mundane.  But that’s not what I got.  I got a roller coaster ride of a life instead.  A wind-swept, turbulent, upside-down, loop-de-loop of a life.  And the truth is, now that I’ve lived this life for quite some time, I see how I’ve grown as a person and I see how I never could have become the person I am today without riding this roller coaster ride of a life.  It’s the toughest, sweetest, most rewarding life I could have had!

My son, Thomas, was born with a rare genetic disorder: Ataxia-Telangiectasia. The frequency of A-T is only 1 in 100,000 births.  It attacks children, and, in addition to the high risk of cancer, the compromised immune system, and respiratory system concerns, it also causes a progressive loss of muscle control, including their eyes, their arms, their hands, their legs, and their feet.  It means their words are slurred, reading is difficult, playing is difficult, and dressing and feeding themselves is difficult.

Navigating their world is a challenge, and my world is filled.  It’s filled with love, laugher, smiles, hugs, kisses, a lot of trials and errors, and patience.  Lots and lots of patience.Thomas has always been an early riser, so up we go right around sunrise!  Richie helps him shower and dress while I pick up the bagels and set the table.  I always try to sneak around the house and complete some household chores as quickly as possible, but Thomas is not one to wait for his bagels!  He comes downstairs on his “stair chair” and chats the whole way down!   A typical weekend with Thomas starts out with his favorite: Bagels!!  And don’t forget the Lox and Cream Cheese spread!! Thomas has accepted that there are certain things he can’t do for himself, but that doesn’t stop Thomas from enjoying life!  He instructs us as to what his needs are at any given time.
“More cream cheese, please!”  “Another bite of bagel, please!”  “Drink, please!” And when Thomas is done with breakfast off he goes into the living room to play his video games. “Come on, dad, I’m ready!”  While I clean up I can hear the two of them intently playing on their video games.  It’s one of the few things Thomas has learned to master with confidence, conviction, passion, and fervor.  He can play for quite some time on those games!  It gives us peace of mind to know he’s happy and believes in himself.  Thomas has never ever considered himself handicapped, and he has clearly and enthusiastically stated so on several occasions!  “I’m not handicapped!  I just need this wheel chair to help me walk!” or “I’m not handicapped!  Give that space to someone who needs it!”  Ronan, our service dog, has been an important and inseparable part of our lives for almost 3 years now.  The process of receiving a service dog is a long and arduous one, but it is very well worth the wait and preparation. Ronan has miraculously given Thomas the courage to know he is important – that he has a job and a responsibility and that someone needs him instead of the other way around.  It was great for Thomas to see that someone was now dependent on him. Ronan assists Thomas with things he can’t do for himself, such as picking up what’s fallen, opening doors, opening drawers, and tugging and pulling items across a floor.  Ronan also knows our names!  With one quick “Get Alysa!”, “Get Daddy!”, or “Get Mommy!” off Ronan goes to grab our attention!  He pokes us with his nose or just stares at us and we know Thomas needs us!  Thomas’ responsibility to Ronan is to groom him and feed him, and Thomas takes his job seriously as Ronan enjoys the pampering!  It’s a perfect, poignant and impenetrable bond.

    Thomas has many pastimes.  He’s an avid passionate sports fan and a zealous movie theater attendee!  Richie and Thomas devote several weekends a month frequenting the atrium!  This is truly a special time for them to sit back and enjoy their time together.  It brings them a strong sense of bonding .

The day my children were first placed into my arms was surreal.  I felt an immediate surge of love, pride and joy.  And, as they grew older, I also felt the unparalleled surge of worry.  When I became a parent of a special needs child I felt my worries now were exponential, but, thankfully, they, too, would be balanced with unsurpassable contentment when his milestones were finally met.      

While I’ve come to accept and acclimate to our unique way of living, I know how hard it’s been, how hard it is, and how hard it will be.  Although I’ve left the tears and the sadness behind, I remember how many tears I cried wishing and praying for a cure, and how many tears I cried knowing he’ll never be able to walk, skip, run, jump, play, hit a ball, hold a pencil or crayon or hold a cup to drink.  I know how we’ve all had to make changes to accommodate him.  Growing up my mother engrained in us physical, emotional, and intellectual strength & courage.  She taught me “If you’re in the water, you have to swim.”  I thank her for this gift.  Although I’m always exhausted and I’m always drained, I will never give up! 

For more information about Ataxia-Telangiectasia please visit this link.

Julia & Lindsay

Julia & Lindsay

Newsworthy: Everyday acts of kindness. (1)

A new blog series highlighting the art of caregiving.

Photo narrative by: Lindsay Hyland

©Suzanne Fiore Photography

SFiore_LindsJules1BLOG-1024x683I have three sisters. My sister Julia, who shares the middle with me, was born with developmental disabilities. We’ve always had a unique relationship as I had to learn how to communicate with her in ways that were different from how I communicate with my other sisters. When Julia sees me she comes right up to me, smiles, and says “Nose!”.  This might seem strange to other people but this is Julia’s personal word for me.  It’s her way of saying hello and I love it.

SFiore_LindsJules12BLOG SFiore_LindsJules15BLOGWhen people first meet Julia, they might not realize that she is capable of showing love but it is these moments that have proven that Julia can make really wonderful connections with people, especially her family. 

SFiore_LindsJules11BLOG SFiore_LindsJules18BLOGJulia loves her home and we often find ourselves spending time there. It might be just for a quick hello, or for lunch, or for an event that the house is having. The staff at the house will find any excuse to have a family gathering and I know Julia is delighted to have us all over to her home for birthday parties, holiday parties, and special events!

SFiore_LindsJules20BLOG SFiore_LindsJules26BLOGSFiore_LindsJules22BLOG SFiore_LindsJules28BWBLOG SFiore_LindsJules32BLOG SFiore_LindsJules33BLOG SFiore_LindsJules35BWBLOG SFiore_LindsJules42BLOGI often bring Julia with me as I run errands. With our busy schedules, this is one way we can spend time together! I enjoy bringing Julia grocery shopping with me. She is such lovely company and helps make the most mundane activities fun!

SFiore_LindsJules45BLOG SFiore_LindsJules48BLOGSFiore_LindsJules49BLOG SFiore_LindsJules50BLOGHaving Julia take an item off the shelf and put it in the cart might seem like such a simple task but it took Julia many years to accomplish.  

SFiore_LindsJules51BLOG SFiore_LindsJules52BLOG SFiore_LindsJules53BLOG SFiore_LindsJules54BLOG Julia also really enjoys going for walks. We will usually take a nice walk around her neighborhood but we sometimes head over to The College of Staten Island Campus which is close to Julia’s home. It’s a lovely campus to take a walk through. It is also the old site of The Willowbrook Institution.

SFiore_LindsJules58BWBLOG SFiore_LindsJules59BLOG SFiore_LindsJulesBLOG SFiore_LindsJules67BWBLOG SFiore_LindsJules63BLOGJulia was born just as Willowbrook was closing and I tend to wonder what life would be like for Julia had she been born 15 years earlier. Willowbrook was such an awful place and I always pray that we never go back to that. I wonder what it was like for the siblings of those individuals living in Willowbrook.  Did they have the same fears I have for Julia?  Did they wonder how their sibling was being treated? Did they even know how awful it was?

SFiore_LindsJules61BLOGWalking around this campus makes me think about all the hard work it took families to fight for a better quality of life for their loved ones. I can’t help but feel grateful to the individuals who helped shut down Willowbrook. Julia would never have grown into the amazing woman she is today if she had lived there. I am so grateful to those individuals before me who advocated strongly for programs to help support individuals with disabilities. 

SFiore_LindsJules68BLOGGrowing up it was a lot easier to spend time with Julia as we were all under the same roof, sharing space and having fun. As we got older, and all moved out of our childhood home, including Julia, it got harder and harder to see each other as often as we’d like. Luckily, Julia lives in a lovely community residence run by AHRC about a ten minute drive from my house now.

SFiore_LindsJules71BLOG SFiore_LindsJules73BLOG It’s really wonderful to see Julia living as independently as she can.  The staff at the house continually challenge her and teach her new skills, as well.   

SFiore_LindsJules74BWBLOG SFiore_LindsJules75BWBLOG It makes me so happy to see Julia so happy. It’s a true testament to the hard work of her Direct Support Staff. They love my sister like she is a part of their family, and in fact, the house she lives in is part of our family too! Julia doesn’t just live in a house, she lives in a beautiful home with her wonderful roommates and support staff. I can never find the right words to thank them for all they do. Their job is not easy and they are terribly underpaid for all that they do in order to create the most amazing quality of life for my sister. I am so grateful to them all because I do not think I would be able to give Julia the same quality care on a daily basis. I am relieved to know that there are men and woman who have gotten to know my sister just as well as I have, if not even better than I know her, and this makes me very happy.

SFiore_LindsJules77BLOG SFiore_LindsJules78BWBLOG SFiore_LindsJules79BLOGOften, after spending a day with Julia, she looks up at me and says, “wanna lay down? wanna go snuggle?” and this means she is ready to go home. To her home, not mine. And when I watch her run into her room and grab her toys I can’t help but think of how happy she is and how different life might have been for Julia if there weren’t many people who believed she had the potential to be where she is today.  

If you are a sibling of an individual with special needs, please find information, resources, and support here.

If you’re a sibling in New York City check out sibsNY.

Rett Syndrome, Lily, and Christine.


Newsworthy: Everyday Acts of Kindness. (2)

A blog series highlighting the art of caregiving.

Photo narrative by: Christine Salerno

©Suzanne Fiore Photography

At the end of May I followed these two incredibly strong ladies for part of their day. I wanted to put a face to a rare disease, that Lily was diagnosed with, called Rett Syndrome. The photos here, along with the story accompanying the photos, were posted at that time.  Her mother, Christine, informed me yesterday that Lily had a setback with her breathing. Some nights it takes her 5 hours to fall asleep because she is either holding her breath or hyperventilating for hours at a time. When she does finally begin to fall asleep, she forgets to breathe and wakes up again gasping for air.

(Christine has written a more detailed description of their journey. Learn more by clicking on this link.)

Lily’s 6th birthday is in a few weeks. You can join me to give her the most meaningful gift by donating to the Rett Syndrome Research Trust here.

I will be following these two courageous girls again in March to continue to bring awareness to the daily obstacles that a Rett syndrome diagnosis brings. Please consider sharing this story so that others can get to know & support Lily & Christine.

These ladies are such an inspiration to me. Why they aren’t on the front page of every newspaper as an example of strength, courage, success, love, and perseverance is a mystery to me. Let’s show Lily and Christine that we support their strength and bravery by sharing their story.


Every morning, I tell Lily that she is the sweetest, smartest, hardest working, bravest 5 year old I know.  

And once you hear a bit about her story, you’ll see why this is true.



You see, Lily has Rett Syndrome.  Likely you’ve never heard of it.  This is how it’s sometimes described: ‘imagine a girl with the symptoms of Parkinsons, Crohns Disease, Epilepsy, Severe Anxiety and Cerebral Palsy all in one little girl’.  It’s pretty devastating.  Most girls that have Rett never walk, never talk, need feeding tubes, have limited to no hand function and are on multiple medications to ease symptoms.



Lily is described as being on the high functioning side of Rett Syndrome.  Lily walks (somewhat unsteadily, but independently for the most part), has some words that come and go, has some hand function and can eat normally.  She’s unable to learn sign language because her hands don’t function well, but thanks to technology, I’m able to communicate with this kiddo.  


Though Rett Syndrome impacts almost EVERY aspect of her body, it hasn’t impacted her intellect.  Up until recently it was believed that girls with Rett Syndrome were cognitively impaired, but – because of amazing technology – researchers, teachers and parents (though most parents already knew this) realized that these girls are smart. During the week, Lily goes to a special needs preschool where she has upwards of 4 therapy sessions a day.  Once she gets home, she has another 2-4 sessions throughout the evening. I tell people that she’s busier than the CEO of the company I work for.  This kid works hard.  And she has to.  If we don’t constantly keep at the skills she has, she will lose them.  



Lily needs 24/7 constant care and supervision.  She can’t walk up and down stairs independently.  Opening and closing doors isn’t possible.









On the weekends, I like to let Lily choose what to do, and I don’t push her too hard.  Usually it means waking up early, having her morning smoothie, listening to music, going for a walk, and picking out flowers for our apartment.






Lily communicates with her eyes.  It’s amazing how much she can get across with one glance.


Even though Lily has Rett Syndrome, she is still a kid, a 5 year old kid.  And she’s constantly pushing boundaries, seeing what she can get away with – like walking into the street.



SFiore_LilyChrisDocumentary72BWBlog  Untitled-1

SFiore_LilyChrisDocumentary12BWBlog Usually, I’ll make her lunch at home.  She’s on a restrictive diet as girls with Rett have mal-absorbtion issues on top of GI issues so I do a LOT of cooking and prepping.  Sometimes in the evening, I’ll take her out to dinner.  She’s extremely social and likes to make her way around the restaurant, and introduce herself in her Lily way (which usually means walking up to the person, smiling into their face and then looking at the food on their plate). SFiore_LilyChrisDocumentary57Blog


She needs help feeding herself.  She can no longer hold a cup to drink from. 




Music is really important to Lily.  One of her occupational therapists (she has 4) described that as Lily doesn’t have an internal equilibrium, music acts as that equilibrium which soothes and centers her.







We have a lot of fun throughout the day.


SFiore_LilyChrisDocumentary6BlogHaving a child with special needs opens up a whole new world to a parent.  Some of it is devastating.  But some of it is magical.  For me, and for Lily, we try to focus on the magical.


If you’d like to learn more about Rett Syndrome, click here.