Gentile Family Story

The Randy Gentile Family

In December of 2014, I started noticing some little bruises on Randy’s legs. I didn’t think much of them, since he was a 5-year-old boy and was always jumping around. I spoke to his pediatrician about my concerns, and they suggested getting some bloodwork. I really wasn’t too worried about it, because he had bloodwork done the year before and everything was fine. The weekend of December 7, Randy tried a soccer camp, but he didn’t really want to participate—which was unlike him. We also celebrated his brother’s first birthday that weekend. Throughout that week, he started to not feel good. He had a fever, glassy eyes, and was groggy. I just figured that he was catching a cold from kindergarten.

On Saturday December 14, I took him for bloodwork around 9 a.m. We went about our morning as usual, until I got the phone call that would forever alter our lives. At 10:30 a.m., the pediatrician called and told us his white count was extremely high and that we should head up to Hershey, as there was a possibility that Randy had leukemia. As soon as I hung up, he started to cry, saying that everything was hurting. I later found out this was due to the leukemia. It all happened so quickly. By 2:30 p.m., we were in a bed at Penn State Health Children’s Hospital.

From there, a lot is a blur. I called my mother-in-law, who hurried to my house to watch Wesley, Randy’s little brother. I called my husband and told him to meet me at the hospital. I called my parents and asked them to head to my house from New Jersey, so they could stay with Wesley until we got home. Once we got there, they put us right into a room. There were lots of doctors and nurses coming in and out. Lots of pokes and tears from everyone involved. It felt like I was in a movie. It didn’t seem real. I was so worried we wouldn’t be home for Christmas. I was trying to figure out how we can get presents and a tree into the hospital. Luckily, we were discharged on December 23.

When I first got the call from the doctor, I was told to either choose CHOP or Hershey. I was aware of THON™, but not completely aware of the importance of it. I chose Hershey, and it was the best decision I ever made.

After we got settled, lots of people came in to talk to me. I can clearly remember Dr. Smink and the nurse and how patient, kind, and soft their words were. Something that was in my mind, but in the back, was, “What is this going to cost me?” I know it shouldn’t have been, but it was.

Then, someone came in to talk to me about Four Diamonds. Suddenly, money was no longer a concern or worry. They explained to me that whatever my insurance doesn’t cover, Four Diamonds would. I was baffled and speechless and wondering how on Earth can they cover this… for everyone. Then I learned about THON, and it all made sense.

We were not allowed to go to the first few THON Weekends after Randy got sick, due to him being immunocompromised and COVID-19 ruining the fun. Sadly, we haven’t attended it yet, however, I am determined to go there this year. We watched the last few THON Weekends virtually, and if I can feel that kind of love and support through the computer, I can only imagine what it feels like to be there.

THON and Four Diamonds are underestimated angels and a blessing that one can only understand after seeing the incredible things that happen because of the money raised. The playroom is amazing. The BINGO prizes! The toys at Christmastime. The fact that I never once had to worry about money, that is something I cannot be more thankful for.

There was a time when Randy needed 5 pills to get us to the next month. It cost $1,500 for those 5 pills. He took 56 of those pills a month for three and a half years, which amounted to almost $700,000!!! And that was just for one medicine. I wish, with all my heart, that any human being, whether adult or child, would never have to worry about money when fighting a life-threatening disease.

Randy’s treatment was like a roller coaster. I always compare it to riding a rollercoaster. Sometimes we were really low, but we always knew it would have to go back up. Sometimes it was bumpy, and sometimes it was smooth. Sometimes I felt like I was stuck upside in a loop and would never get off the ride.

I am so thankful for the doctors and nurses in the clinic and on the pediatrics floor. Randy always looked forward to going to treatment. He had so much fun and was treated like a super star. Compared to some other journeys I have heard about, it sounded like Randy had it pretty easy. We only had two unplanned admittances throughout the remainder of his treatment. I felt extremely lucky.

The last month was the roughest. He really felt junky and needed a blood transfusion. I knew we were close to the end, but it still wasn’t easy to see. I wanted to stop, but they said we were so close, so we kept fighting.

We certainly celebrated everything during the last year. The last spinal tap, last chemo pill, last visit, last steroid… everything was made into a big deal. We also went on our Make-A-Wish trip during that last month of treatment. March 30th, 2023 was the last day of Randy’s treatment. It was a moment that I will never forget. The moment he took his last pill, I felt a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. I cried. I cried a lot during treatment. For lots of reasons, but lots of tears were shed.

Ringing the bell was a moment that will forever be ingrained in my brain. I don’t have a whole lot of words to describe that moment, other than relief and elation. Funny story, the other day we were at Spirit Halloween, and we donated to Penn State Health Children’s Hospital, and we got to ring a cow bell. Randy rang the bell, and I immediately started tearing up. It reminded me so much of the moment he rang the bell at clinic.

Those 1,202 days of my life were the worst and also the best. It is hard to explain. I would have moments of extreme sadness and wonder why this happened to my son. Then I would be reminded that we were lucky that Randy was thriving, and it snapped me back into place. There is no planning for something like that. I focused on one day at a time, sometimes hours or minutes at a time. I made sure to focus my energy on Randy. Most of the time, he was a smiling, regular boy. Those moments are what drove me to keep my head up.

I learned I am a lot stronger than I thought I was. I learned that Randy is one of the strongest 10-year-olds I have ever known. I learned that Wesley, Randy’s little brother, is extremely flexible and easy going. I learned that my husband is a rock and can always see the positive sides of things.

Without THON and Four Diamonds, I do not know how I would have been able to have the money to save Randy’s life. I am not sure if the people involved with these organizations truly understand their impact. They are saving kids’ lives. They are providing the financial means to save lives. That is something that I will forever be thankful for.

If you didn’t know we went through this, you never would. Everything is seemingly back to normal. Well, almost everything. There will always be that little worry in my mind of the cancer coming back. But most days, I can push that all the way back. Both of the boys are still playing sports, and I am coaching Randy’s soccer team. My family will never be the same, but that is okay. We are stronger for the journey we have been through.