Pound Pup Legacy

The following article was sent to me, but I have to preface it with a story of my own.  When I first discovered a lump in my breast, I had two small children.  Other than not knowing anything about my medical history, and having complete trust in my beloved Ob/Gyn who respected my adopted status, my biggest concerns revolved around my babies:  IF it's the worst-case scenario, do I wear a wig, or scarf, and do I let them see me cry?

I didn't have much time, since the surgery took place within the week of discovery.

I was lucky.  That being a relative term, of course.  My experience was a solitary one, as no one was there to help me or my children.  My adoptive mother assumed her history with breast cysts was the same as my own experience, so I was left alone with my own medical drama.

No one deserves the fear of "not knowing", alone.

http://www.thenewstribune.com/news/local/story/240582.html

JOSEPH MONTES; joseph.montes@thenewstribune.com

Published: December 29th, 2007 01:00 AM

As the holiday season reached full tilt, Lori Baron rushed around the house giving orders and helping her children pack for the long trip ahead. She wasn’t well enough to travel with them.

The Baron children – all 11 of them, ages 9 to 18, adopted from orphanages in three countries – are just glad to have a mother around to tell them what to do.

Lori, 47, is normally the driving force behind this family built in a seven-bedroom farmhouse in Roy with pieces from Russia, Ethiopia and Guatemala. But she’s rarely in the driver’s seat anymore.

During the past year, she’s battled and beaten ovarian cancer, only to be faced with a life-threatening blood disorder caused by chemotherapy.

“When you have cancer you think, ‘All I have to do is make it to remission and everything is going to be all right,’” she said. “But it doesn’t work like that.”

Because of her need for regular transfusions, Lori was unable to travel with her children and her husband, Chris Baron, on their cross-country trip.

Their plan was to have the children perform at several churches in California and New Mexico; nine of the kids play stringed instruments. Then Lori was supposed to fly to Atlanta, where they would all meet up and share Christmas with the couple’s three adult biological sons.

But the best-laid plans don’t always come to fruition. Nobody understands that fact as well as the Baron family.

Lori strained herself lifting a package, which caused bleeding in her intestines. She spent Christmas in the hospital without her family.

Meanwhile, the van the family was traveling in broke down in Albuquerque. Chris, 46, and the children are stranded there until early January.

These latest difficulties cap a challenging year for the Barons. The hardest part was Lori’s reduced role within the family. The children spent 2007 getting used to taking care of themselves. Chris works from home at his computer business to support them.

The children tend to the house, make meals and home school each other. The older ones do most of the housework and provide car rides and guidance to the younger siblings.

With time, this way of living has become easier, though never easy.

“It’s completely different from last year,” said Galina, who is from Russia and, at 18, stands as a pillar within the family. “At least we’ve had more time to mature and grow up. In some ways it’s still really hard and stressful, but at least she’s not going to die.”

GOOD DAYS, BAD DAYS

The Baron family home turned quiet on this day in mid-December. Many of the children had moved on to chores and their own interests.

Liza, who is 16 and Galina’s biological sister, was getting ready with brother Mario, who is 15 and from Guatemala, for a performance with the Tacoma Youth Symphony Orchestra. The pair worked their way into suits, piece by piece, as they passed through the house.

Lori rested on the couch in the living room where all their packed items sat so they wouldn’t be forgotten. Pictures of figures from the Byzantine Catholic Church decorate the walls; a wood-burning stove keeps the house warm.

Lori was upbeat with a full head of silvery hair. Even her doctors are amazed at her healthy appearance, she said.

Some days, especially after a red blood cell transfusion, she has the energy she was known for before her cancer diagnosis. But on others, she’s wiped out and suffers headaches.

It’s not uncommon to have a suppressed immune system after finishing chemotherapy. Typically it lasts three months. But Lori, who has no private health insurance and is supported by the state, has watched her condition worsen and persist long after what’s considered normal. She recently underwent a light chemo treatment to try to fix it.

“The prognosis isn’t really good,” she said. “If I can’t get my blood under control, it’ll be a constant fight not to get (sick).”

This fact doesn’t seem to faze the woman whose life of simplicity was modeled on Mother Teresa.

“Life is always like that,” Lori said. “The kids could get into a car accident on the way to cello lessons, and that’d be all she wrote.”

TWO SURGERIES

The last 14 months have been a series of ups and downs.

 • In November 2006, Lori had emergency surgery for what she thought was an intestinal blockage but which turned out to be ovarian cancer that had spread throughout her lower intestine and stomach.

 • In December 2006, she went through chemotherapy. News of the family’s story spread, and an outpouring of support from relatives, friends and strangers left the family showered in Christmas gifts and financial support.

 • In February Lori had surgery again. Doctors removed 95 percent of her cancer, in her ovaries, her uterus, her spleen and parts of other organs. She continued getting chemo intermittently until August.

 • In April she had a seizure as a result of a bad antibiotic reaction.

 • In July she celebrated her 47th birthday. She showed no more signs of cancer, and she and Chris celebrated by dining at a Chinese restaurant in Spanaway.

 • In October her blood problems became more serious.

 • In November she was twice hospitalized because of internal bleeding.

“Lori’s cancer going away is a positive development,” Chris said. “The rest of it has been a tedious series of going to the hospital. It seems like every day.”

Still, Lori contends this wasn’t the hardest year the family has faced.

In 2001 the couple traveled three times to Russia to get Stanislav, Zhanna and Tanya, who are now 9, 10 and 9, respectively. Zhanna, who has Down syndrome, had open-heart surgery. George, who is 15 and has radical club hands (short arms), had surgery.

At the time, the Barons had 13 children at home, including their two youngest biological sons, Daniel and Patrick. Five of the adopted children have disabilities.

“We had five 3-year-olds learning to be potty trained,” Lori said. “I counted once. We had 23 pairs of training pants on the clothing line. That was an incredibly emotional and physically challenging year.”

MUSIC AND MORE

Despite their varied ages, there’s little the Baron kids don’t do together.

A day before they were scheduled to leave for their music tour, the children – all except Wandy, from Ethiopia, who is 13 and often stays home with his dad – were at the Lacamas Community Center in Roy to do a craft project.

Galina, Liza, John-Paul, 15, Mario and George made Nativity scenes from Popsicle sticks and glue. They didn’t hesitate to work alongside their younger siblings, even though more grown-up matters fill their minds.

Mario spoke of his future and whether he’ll ever return to Guatemala, his country of origin.

“I kind of thought about it,” he said. “We were in Tijuana two years ago and my mom and dad say it was similar. It was kind of in the mood of what Mexico and Guatemala were like when I was down there.”

Mario hopes to make a living through music. He’s a talented violin player and the reason his other siblings picked up instruments. Although Liza plays viola in the orchestra with Mario, her aspirations couldn’t be more different.

“Aviation,” she said. “Maybe becoming a pilot like Patrick,” one of the Barons’ biological sons, who’s a commercial pilot in Atlanta.

John-Paul wants to join the Marines. George wants to go to college and join the State Patrol.

Galina – the closest to going out on her own, and yet the glue that holds them together – wants to attend college. She thinks about studying psychology, getting married and being a stay-at-home mom.

This broad range of interests is a source of happiness for their mother.

“I’ve always tried to look at the kids and their talents and find a place for them to use their strengths,” Lori said.

LIFE WITHOUT LORI?

In an alternate universe, where Lori isn’t sick, the Barons might be planning the next addition to their family.

As it is, Lori says God is telling her that now isn’t the right time; it wouldn’t be fair to rescue a child who doesn’t have a family only to make him or her go through the loss of another parent.

Lori isn’t confident about her long-term odds. Ovarian cancer has a high rate of return.

But if anything good has come from her illness, she says, it’s that she’s learned to live for today and that her children have prepared for a life without their mother.

“They make themselves do what they have to do now whether they want to or not,” she said. “They’ll be able to pick up the pieces and move on.”