I know you care about my Dad, Ken, Ken Bob, Ken Blob, Mr. Waite, Hum Babe, Precious, Kenny, Uncle Ken or whatever you might call him because you're here reading his blog. I've always tried to write this blog in an informative, yet playful manner because that's how the aforementioned man (with too many names) would have it be. However, playful and fun doesn't always get my message across so please excuse the frank nature of this post.
These next two weeks are crucial. At this point in time, Ken is not qualified for a transplant. The radiation therapy and inpatient chemo have to kill his cancer. Period. If these methods fail, we've run out of options and frankly, that's just not ok with me (or you, I'm sure).
Each of you bring your own set of beliefs to the table and regardless of what they are, I'm asking for your help. Whether you pray or send positive thoughts or put on your rally cap, I believe all will work in restoring the health of the man we all love. None of us will ever understand what he experiences day to day in his battle with this terrible disease but there's one thing we can all be a part of and that's a cure. I don't know of a more deserving person than my father so I plead with you for your help. He'll probably nuckle me for posting this but it's the truth and I'm ready for a miracle.