My dad, Dennis, courageously fought for 11 months with everything in him to beat cancer — triple‑hit diffuse large B‑cell lymphoma (DLBCL)— which took his life on January 29, 2025. Here is his story.
In April 2023, Dennis began having a cough that wouldn't go away. He saw his doctor multiple times; they tried several inhalers, thinking it was allergies or asthma. By February of the following year, Dennis was becoming extremely fatigued, taking naps during the day, and unable to keep up his regular exercise routine. This was very unusual for him, which prompted his daughter Leslie to encourage him to go to the emergency room. After much deliberation, Dennis and his wife, Cheryl, went to the ER, where bloodwork and a CT scan showed pleural effusion developing in his lungs and cancer throughout his body.
After the initial shock that night, Dennis woke up the next morning and called the oncologist to get an appointment as soon as possible; the first available was three weeks away. Unfortunately, Dennis never made it to that appointment. He was back in the ER a week later with pleural effusion, causing difficulty breathing, and was admitted to the hospital — the first of many stays over the next 11 months. The initial biopsy suggested a low-grade lymphoma, which baffled the doctors because his symptoms were severe. Within a month, he was admitted to the critical care unit.
In April 2024, an oncologist finally examined him. By that time, a lump on his left chest was growing daily. The doctor requested a second biopsy, which determined he had an extremely rare cancer called triple‑hit diffuse large B-cell lymphoma. The oncologist intensified his chemotherapy from R‑CHOP to DA‑EPOCH‑R; he completed five rounds. Each round required a hospital stay of at least five days, and most stays were longer. He received chemotherapy from May to September, with a new round every three weeks. During this period, he also contracted COVID-19 and norovirus, which caused additional extended hospital stays.
Dennis thought his cancer journey was winding down at the end of treatment in September when his PET scan showed much improvement. He was even able to leave the house, visit friends, go to the gym, and hike a couple of easy trails. Unfortunately, this freedom was short-lived. By mid‑October, Dennis noticed what looked like a small bug bite on the left side of his torso. He assumed it was from his hike. Within a week, the "bite" had tripled in size. He made an appointment with his doctor, who suspected an infected bite and prescribed strong antibiotics. To Dennis's surprise, the "small bug bite" had become about two inches in diameter, sore, red, swollen, and getting worse.
Dennis saw his oncologist at his monthly visit, but the oncologist had no explanation. By Halloween, Dennis was back in the ER. From that day forward, the sore became grotesque — oozing, bleeding, and bubbling — the worst anyone in the hospital had seen. They did not know what it was until a third biopsy confirmed it was an external cancer wound on the skin. The cancer was back with a vengeance. His care was transferred from Skagit Valley Hospital to UW/Fred Hutch in Seattle, where he received four rounds of radiation. At this point, Dennis was hopeful he would be eligible for CAR‑T cell therapy.
During December, Dennis discovered additional lumps throughout his torso. He tried a different chemotherapy regimen, but nothing affected the cancer that was ravaging his body. The tumors were encroaching on his kidneys, and he required nephrostomy bags. On the day he was supposed to receive his first CAR‑T cell treatment, the cancer had progressed, and he was admitted to the hospital with kidney failure. Dennis entered the ER one final time and joined his heavenly Father on January 29, 2025, at 3:45 a.m.
My dad’s battle with cancer was grueling, intense, wretched, and profoundly painful; however, I have never witnessed such a sense of peace, joy, and love for the Lord as he had. He would wake every morning grateful to spend another day with family while worshipping the Lord. Dennis witnessed to every nurse, doctor, and caregiver who entered his room, sharing the blessings the Lord had given him. If Dennis could sit up in bed, he would say he could stand; if he could stand, he would walk the hallways. He never took off his Fitbit and was determined to get in as many steps as possible. My dad was a fighter in every sense of the word — literally and figuratively. He never gave up.
This determination, grit, strength, and perseverance inspire me to do the Big Climb in his honor. I pray that someday cancer patients won't have to wait to receive groundbreaking immunotherapy treatments like CAR‑T cell therapy as a last resort — that these treatments will be available as a first‑line option. I pray for a cure for all cancers, especially blood cancers. You are my hero forever, Dad.
Leslie
Family member
