Dominic Giallonardo Memorial Scholarship
Dom’s Story
1,923 days, for those of you trying to do the math in your head, as I would be if I were sitting there, is almost 6 years. 6 years. . . that is the amount of time you can take out a loan on a car, or the amount of time it takes to get from junior high to graduation, a significant amount of time when looked at in that manner. Well, 1,923 is the total amount of days Dominic battled this ugly disease. For those of you not familiar with Dominic’s journey, I want to share a condensed version of his story with you. Dominic was diagnosed with Ewing’s Sarcoma in July of 2015, the summer of his Freshman year; the first year was shocking for all of us, but we were told it would be a one year battle, and as we discussed, you can do anything for one year. During that year Dominic endured 14 weeks of chemo, 8 blood transfusions, had a hemipelvectomy, which is half of his pelvis, and his entire right hip removed, and during his remaining 22 weeks of chemo endured grueling physical therapy where he learned how to walk again.
Dom went 18 months with No Evidence of Disease. We all thought he was in the clear. Then, on a routine MRI in February of 2018, Dominic was diagnosed with a spinal mass which a biopsy confirmed was again Ewing’s Sarcoma. Dom took 12 rounds of chemotherapy in 21 - day cycles and had a month of radiation. Moving on to June of 2019, scans revealed a mass on Dominic’s seventh rib and several nodules in his lungs. On July 8 Dominic began a trial of oral chemo where he had to actually drink chemo, but powered through to keep his quality of life. Dom was doing well. Taking chemo in the morning, hitting the gym twice a day, and golfing every chance he got. Then, came December of 2019, Dom’s third official battle with this horrible disease. It was a trying time, sepsis, pneumonia, and the spreading of cancer to multiple areas which led to a two week stay where the doctors counted him down and out. We weren’t given a time frame, but the doctors said nothing else could be done. However, Dom refused to be counted out, so 5 days of chemo began. Dom left the hospital on oxygen and with chest tubes. Things looked very grim, home care began. Nurses came in to drain his tubes and administer his chemo, but as usual, Dom had a different plan. As always he pushed through with minimal complaints and returned to his normal life. Or, so it seemed. In February, Dom was removed from the trial because a tumor was found near his heart. His pic line was removed and a port was again placed; chemo continued. April 14th revealed great progress. He was only left with the one rib tumor. However, July scans revealed growth inside the rib cage and fluid in his lungs. Chemo stopped, and radiation to the left side began. September brought a clinical trial, but before the trial could begin, data needed to be collected, a battery of scans and blood work. Blood work revealed his hemoglobin was too low, twice. So, Dom could no longer be considered for the trial, and he was crushed. The only option was a daily chemo pill. The cancer progressed, and here we are today.
The one thing I left out is the dignity with which Dominic accepted his diagnosis. Honestly there were little complaints and tears, and many times, he even had to swallow his pride and sit on the bench when that was something he was not used to doing.
His diagnosis also came with a bright side, he learned to appreciate life more, knew what true friendship was, and encountered people he otherwise would have never met. It also allowed him several honors that he otherwise would not have gotten, inducted into the WPIAL Hall of Fame, named a Pittsburgh Positive Athlete, and he won the Pittsburgh Basketball Association Luke Blanock Courage award where he gave the following speech (with a little editing help from his mom):
“What helps to define you? Almost everyone in this room can say athlete. That was how I solely defined myself. Growing up I was on the football field in the fall, the basketball court in the winter, or the baseball field in the spring and summer. Ever since I can remember, I have loved sports. Even the day before I was told I had cancer, I was helping my baseball team win a championship title. I pitched 4 innings and hit a homerun, and the next day, another defining moment, I was given my cancer diagnosis.
My story begins on July 29, 2015 when I was diagnosed with Ewing’s Sarcoma, a rare cancer that forms in bone or soft tissue. I endured 36 chemotherapy treatments, 8 blood transfusions, and on November 11, 2015, yet another defining moment, a hemipelvectomy where I lost half my pelvis and my entire right hip. My surgeon said my quality of life would change and worse yet, I may never play sports again. I spent approximately 2 years learning to walk, building my muscle strength through intense physical therapy, all the while, envisioning playing some sport again. I was told football was out of the equation. I could however return to basketball. So, I played every chance I got, in our driveway, at the Y, or at my high school’s open gym. It was rough at first but my love of sports got me through. I played for the Mt. Pleasant Vikings. We did not have the best record my junior year, only winning three games, but I made the starting five, another defining moment.
The story continues 15 months after my No Evidence of Disease news, another tumor was found in my spinal canal. This time I had one year of oral chemo and 6 weeks of radiation every day. I was too weak to play basketball my senior year but trained for a season of baseball. I just finished my senior year pitching a few games, another defining moment.
In closing, it is what you do that defines you. When asked what defines me, I guess I can’t really say because one thing can’t define a person. Cancer definitely doesn’t define me, but it taught me what I have: strength of spirit, love for and of family and friends, appreciation for life that I had previously taken for granted, dedication, and perseverance to achieve goals thought impossible. So no, no one word defines me. And foremost, cancer doesn’t define me, but it has changed me and made me into the person I am today. Cancer is ugly and cruel, but I guess it has given me more strength than it has taken away. And as I am not the athlete that I used to be, I would rather play than not be involved in sports.“
