The story of Allan Knake's journey, told through his wife, Terri.
How do I begin? It was the worst of times, yet the best of times. Ironic, isn't it? I guess I will begin at the beginning, as they say.
Our journey began in the fall of 2004. Allan was vomiting in his sleep. Not much, but enough to freighen us both. He went to the doctor and was diagnosed w/acid reflux. We were in a hotel room w/some friends laughing about the diagnosis. Saying old age was catching up w/us; now we had to start watcing what we ate. I was soon to find out that it wasn't funny at all. Soon my world would come to a screaching halt.
Allan kept taking his meds, but they didn't seem to be working. His skin was getting a little tinge of yellow. We thought that his gall bladder had gone bad. Since it was close the the holidays, Allan decided to wait until after the first of the year to go back to the doctor. That was when the itching began. We also knew that that was a symptom of gall baldder disease. We assured each other that was all it was; how wrong we were!
Allan went back to the doctor the first of January. By that time, he was getting pretty miseerable. Itching, tired and getting more yellow by the day. When our doctor saw him, he was taken back. He told us that Allan had to see a gastointestonal specialist ASAP. Now, I was getting scared. He gave us the name two doctors. One was out of town, so Allan called Dr. Hassan. We were fortuneate to get in to see him right away.
When Dr. Hassan saw him, he wanted him to go to the hospital for a scope that very day. He didn't like what he saw. The hospital didn't have space that day--so they got him the next day. It was scheduled for the afternoon. By this time, Allan was scratching so badly that he had bloody welts on his body. And he was so tired.
Heidi, our daughter and Sydney, our grand daughter came up to see me. I was so happy to see them. I was so worried that there was more to this than I was ready to face. So the distraction was welcome. They left and the doctor came to talk to me.
The doctor told me what I didn't want to hear. He found a "mass" in his bile duct, outside of his pancreas. I remember saying to him, "It is a tumor, isn't it?" He concured and said he took a biopsy and wanted Allan back in the office in two days.
What was I going to tell Allan? I didn't cry, I didn't have time. This was not the time for tears. My family needed me to be strong, and I wasn't going to let them down. When I walked into recovery, he asked me if everything was alright. I said, no it isn't. I told him, "Allan, you have cancer. You may have cancer, but he doesn't have you. We are going to fight this together, and we are going to win." I was really trying to convince myself.
You see, I lost my father to cancer of the esophagus when I was 13. He was exactly the same age as Allan when he was diagnosed. I was the same age as my mother. I remember looking to heaven and telling my mom that I wasn't ready to be a widow. I am not as strong as my mom was. Allan was my life, the only man I ever loved. We did everything together. I met him when I was 19, married him when I was 20. And now that our kids were grown and we were starting to enjoy our new found freedom, I wasn't about to lose him!
When Dr. Hassan made the diagnosis of cancer, he said he was not experienced enough to do the surery Allan needed. And he knew it had to been done soon. The cancer was a fast growing, aggressive cancer. Dr. Hassan talked to a Dr. Lafra, head surgeon of Pontiac General. This was a Tuesday, the third week of January, 2005.
The next day, Allan went to work, still scratching and very tired. He knew he had to go on sick leave. He was getting more yellow by the day. But his spirits were good. I knew he was doing it for me, and I was keeping things light for his sake. We didn't talk much about the outcome. We were too busy battling this dread disease. And, I knew, that our routine had to stay the same. It was the only constant we had in our life.
On Thursday, Allan went on sick leave. He came home from work and I was at the gym. I had to go just for my sanity. I told my trainer what was going on, and keep my sunglasses on during my warm up--didn't want anyone to see my tears. That is when I got a call from home. Allan called to say they needed him at the hospital RIGHT NOW. I raced home to find our daughter in the driveway. Allan forgot that I was at the gym, so he called Heidi. I went into the house to find Allan on the couch, crying. He said, Ter I scared. And I said I am too, but we were going to beat this thing. It was at that moment that I knew I had to take over his care. I had to take charge. He wasn't strong enough anymore.
I told Heidi to call my neighbor and best friend to call church and get Allan on the prayer list. And to call my aunt who was a retired nurse, and let her know and to get the word out to the rest of the family.
When we got to the hsopital, as we waited to the doctor, Allan patted my leg and said that if anything were to happen to him, I would be well taken care of. I said we would cross that bridge when we came to it. But, inside, I was planning for his funeral
Dr. Lafra ran a battery of tests, and gave him Bendryl by a drip to ease his scratching. The first relief he had had in weeks. On Friday afternoon, Dr. Lafra said he wanted me and the kids at the hospital on Saturday morning, 10 am. Now I was scared to death. They didn't call a counsel for good news.
When we met w/Dr. Lafra, he told the kids and I that Allan needed a procedure called a whipple. He knew what it involved, but didn't feel confident to perform the surgery. You see, a whipple procedure is the most dangerous abdominal surgery to perform. There are so many tiny blood vessels in that area of the body that one little nip and the patient bleeds to death on the table. So, he sent us to U of M for a consultation.
We are now into the end of January. They sent Allan home from the hospital. He now looked worse than ever. He had that gray cancer look; coupled w/the jaundice and his eyes were sinking back into his head. His cousins came to visit and left feeling that would be the last time they saw him.
Dr. Lafra set up an appt at U of M for Feb. 7, Allan's birthday. It was a cold, rainy day and our appt. was set for late afternoon. As we were driving, Allan looked at all the hotels in the area and chose one for me to stay at while he was in the hospital. So typical of him--always making sure I would be OK.
When we arrived at U of M, I got a strange feeling. I didn't like this place. So cold and clinical. Everyone seemed so distant. When we went in to see the doctor, a resident looked at Allan and said that the only thing they could for him now was to make sure he was "comfortable", in other words just let him die! I came unglued!! I asked him if he had even LOOKED at Allan' records, and he said he hadn't, so I STRONGLY suggested that he do so, and get a doctor in there so we could talk to him, which to his credit, he did. When the doctor came in, he looked at Allan and said that we was a strong, young man before this happened and besides that, he really couldn't be sure that there was even a tumor!! He said that we shoulld wait and come back and see him 6 weeks. I was livid!! I said in no uncertain terms that we will not wait, that he could be DEAD in 6 weeks. I also told him that the best doctors at WSU found the tumor and we would go back to them. When we left the room, I had tears in my eyes.
Now, what were we going to do? We were back to square one, w/Allan getting sicker and sicker by the minute. When we got back home, I called Dr. Lafra's office. By this time, I was crying. Allan was scratching so badly, no amount of meds could touch it. He was in such agony, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. But I have to try.
Dr. Lafra wasn't in, but she assured me that he would call me back ASAP. And within 20 minutes, he did. I relayed the story to him and he started cursing. He was very upset. So he said he would call a friend of his at Karmano's and see if he could set up an appt. w/him.
And he did. But as luck would have it, the doctor he called was out of town for the whole week. Did I just lose the chance to save my husband? But then help arrived in the form of a PA named Jennifer. I will never forget her and her callming voice for the rest of my life. She told me Dr. Weaver was out of the country preforming whipple procedures in third world countries to those who couldn't affod them. And also that we does this procedure all the time. My prayers had been answered!! Here was God extending His hand to me.
Jennifer asked me so info about Allan and quickly assessed the situation. By this time, Allan wasn't sleeping or eating. All he was doing was scratching. He had bloody scars on his body and all I could do was to rub his back, legs and arms hoping to give some kind of relief.
She set up an appt. for us on Feb. 16th. But before that, she sent us prescriptions that eased the scratching immensely. During this time, Allan's doctor made three more attempts to put shunts in his bile duct to help the poison drain out of his system. The tumor was getting bigger and not allowing the shunts to stay in place.
So now, Allan was basically a walking vombie. He couldn't drive and basically laid on the couch. It so hard to watch a man go from a vibrant, athletic, fun loving man to a man who looked to be at death's door, in a matter of weeks.
Before seiing the doctor at Karmano's, they wanted a MRI, to get a better look at tumor. But Allan couldn't sit stiil long enough to have it. They gave him a valium and we had the procedure very late at night. They allowed me to stay w/him in the MRI. He was scared and I just keep praying and praying. I loved him so, don't take him away from me.
Tme for our appt. We went to Karmano's and into Dr. Weaver's office. The office also had many other doctors, so it was quite busy. As I sat there, I put my head in my hands and began praying that this doctor could help us.
Our name was called and we entered into his office. He introduced himself to us. He had such an air of confidence, that I thought everything is going to be OK. He asked me why I had my head in my hands, and I said I was prayiing. He smiled and said that that was always a good thing to do.
He explained what he was going to do and what would happen after the surgery. He said he couldn't guarentee that he could remove all the cancer, but if he couldn't, we had other options. FINALLY, hope!!!! He was going to help us!!
The surgery was scheduled for Feb. 22, The next 6 days I spent looking at him, trying to drink in everything I could. This could very well be my last week w/my husband. I just wanted to touch him and hold him and reassure him. Mostly I was doing it for me. We didn't need words to tell each other how we felt. We just knew. We always just knew. We were so in sync w/each other, we knew what each of us was thinking.
The night before the surgery, we went out to dinner. When we came home, we just sat holding hands on the couch. I was so scared. We kissed good night. We hadn't slept together in weeks, due to his itching. I prayed it wouldn 't be the last time I kissed him good night.
That night, he wrote all of us a little note. I guess it was his way of saying good bye and leaving a little piece of him w/us forever. He gave them to me and told me to give thme to the kdis after he went in for surgery. And I was not to read mine until then, either.
We got to Karmano's around 11am. His surgery was scheduled for 1. They prepped him and each one of the kids were there to say good bye. As I kissed him, I told the nurses I wanted him back and to take good care of him. As they wheeled him away, I asked all the angels to look after him and bring him back to me.
The surgery was scheduled to last 3-5 hours. It seemed like an ETERNITY. I would go back and forth from the waiting room to the Chapel. Thank God the kids were there--what would I have done w/out them. They gave me strength and courage when I had none.
The operating room gave us constant updates. And then, around 3 hours later, Dr. Weaver called. As I wentr to the phone, my heart was pounding! Dr. Weaver said to me--Terri, we got it all!!!! I looked in every part of his abdomen, and there is no cancer!!! You can see him in an hour or so.!!!
I was stunned!! We all started to exhale and smile! Our prayers had been answered! I immediately went to the Chapel for prayers of thanksgiving. Dr. Weaver had given me my husband back. And our kids and grandkids had their dad and poppa back. PRAISE GOD!!
The next 10 days were a long hard struggle back. He lost over 30 pounds. He suffered a heart attack. But he had made it throught the surgery! He has since regained most of those 30 pds., and his heart is as strong as ever!
He was released from the hospital 10 days after the surgery. It was the beginning of March. Every day I saw how determined he was to get his life back. He was even strong enough to go to Vegas the end of March.
He had a month of radiation and a year of chemo. He took his chemo orally. He never lost his hair, but his hands and the bottoms of his feet were severly burned. Even through it all, he returned to work May 1. He even bowled in the state tourney in April, about a month after his release from the hospital. As I said, he was very determined. And I know that determination is what pulled him through the hard times.
It has been over 5 years now. We are starting to get back to where we were over 5 years ago. Our lives will never be the same--they will be better!! I look at him everyday and thank God we have had this second chance.
The Hero Foundation was founded for our hero--Allan D. Knake. And we want everyone diagnosed w/this dreadful disease to have the opportunity to have the same outcome we have had.
Thank you for letting me say my peace. And thank you, kids, for all the support you gave me. You were my rock. And thank you Drs. Patel, Hassan, Lafra and Weaver for giving me back the love of my life, my Allan.
