General Article
February
6, 2003
Bald remains beautiful for Shipping & Receiving's
Dave Knipp, whose 10-year-old emerges triumphant after tense battle with leukemia
![]() Alex Knipp, a leukemia patient treated at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance, plays catch with his dad, Dave Knipp, manager of Shipping & Receiving, in the courtyard bounded by the Thomas, Weintraub and Hutchinson buildings. Photo by Todd Mcnaught |
By BRAD BROBERG
The day after Christmas dawned sunny and bright. As the clock nudged noon, Alex Knipp was getting antsy. Like any 10-year- old, he was eager to go outside and play with one of his Christmas presents, a remote-controlled airplane.
Nothing special about that. Except that a year ago, it would have been impossible. A year ago, Alex remained in the early stages of aggressive treatment for acute lymphocytic leukemia.
Alex is the son of Dave Knipp, manager of Fred Hutchinson's Shipping and Receiving department, and his wife, Karen. For them, the gift that mattered most this Christmas was the care their son received from the doctors and staff at the center and the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance.
After working at the center for 16 years, Knipp knew that the doctors he passed in the hallways every day saved lives. However, his respect shot to a whole new level after Alex fell ill.
"When it hits your family, it really hits home," he said. "These people work so hard and are so dedicated to what they do. They saved Alex's life. Plain and simple. They saved his life."
From the moment Alex entered the hospital, Knipp said, doctor after doctor took a personal interest in the case while providing the best possible professional care.
"The thing I want to get across to everyone is how caring everybody is at the Hutch," he said.
There was Dr. Jim Olson.
"He was the attending physician when we arrived at the hospital," Knipp said.
"He was very caring and helpful during that stressful time."
And Dr. Dana Matthews.
"She heard that someone from the Hutch was in the hospital, so she came up to our room to visit us prior to her becoming one of my son's doctors."
And Dr. Lauri Burroughs.
"She is so caring and understanding with my son."
Knipp's praise doesn't stop there.
'In our backyard'
"We can't say enough about the nursing staff," he said. "They take the time and interest to learn what helps Alex through treatments and remember the little tricks each time we visit. We're just so fortunate to have these people and this place in our backyard."
Even so, Knipp saves his greatest admiration for Alex.
"He never, ever complained," he said. "Never. He went from being my son to being my hero. He got everything on his Christmas list."
It's been 14 months since Alex learned he had leukemia. He's entered the maintenance phase of his three-and-a-half-year treatment protocol. His white-cell count is under control, and life is returning to normal.
Alex is excelling in school, itching to play baseball again and pleased to be growing his hair back.
For Knipp, however, bald remains beautiful. He originally shaved his head to support his son when Alex lost all his hair from radiation and chemotherapy. Now, it's a more or less permanent look.
"I want him to stay like that," Alex said. "I don't remember him with hair."
Alex does remember the night the phone rang at the Knipp home in Des Moines and the family found out he had leukemia.
"I woke up to my mom crying," he said.
Alex had been suffering from escalating flu-like symptoms throughout October 2001.
"I started coming home from school early a lot more," he said. "I'd come home every day after lunch."
Late that month, after the school nurse called Karen to report Alex was running a fever, she and Dave took Alex to a doctor. The doctor suspected strep throat or mononucleosis, but the cultures came back negative. They'd have to wait until results from blood tests were available, probably the next day, to learn more.
The results came back late that night. The answering machine picked up the message before Dave could get to the phone.
"I hate to tell you this," said the voice on the other end of the line, "but your son has leukemia. I've called Children's Hospital. You need to get him there right away. They are expecting you."
So they rushed Alex to Children's Hospital and Regional Medical Center. His white cell count was 30 times higher than normal.
No one tried to hide the truth from Alex. He knew he was gravely ill. But as his parents fought tears, Alex supplied courage.
"He was the strong one," Karen Knipp recalled. "He said, 'Don't worry mom. I'm going to be OK. We're going to beat this.' "
Alex spent seven days in the hospital before returning home. However, that was just the beginning of the many chemotherapy and radiation treatments Alex endured as an outpatient. Intended to destroy cancerous white blood cells, the treatments also weaken the immune system, which kept Alex mostly housebound for many weeks.
Appetite havoc
The treatments also wreaked havoc with Alex's appetite.
"At one point, all he could do was drink water for two weeks because he couldn't keep anything else down," Knipp said.
Although treatment frequency and dosages have slackened dramatically, the protocol lasts another two-and-a-half years.
"They just want to make sure I don't get it again," Alex said.
Dave and Karen missed big chunks of work to see Alex through the worst of his illness. In fact, Karen only recently returned to her job as a supervisor at Alaska Airlines.
The two thank both of their employers for helping them maximize their benefits to maintain an income.
In Karen's case, co-workers donated unused vacation time so she never missed a paycheck despite missing an entire year of work.
"If it wasn't for that, I don't know how we would have made it," she said.
Having emerged on the other side of a dark tunnel, the two can reflect on how it affected them-especially Alex.
"He's just matured," Knipp said. "His study habits didn't used to be the best, but now he's really focused. It's changed him - in a great way."
Ask Alex how he feels and he'll say, "Grateful. Because if it wasn't for all of the people at the Hutch, I wouldn't be here."