Lord Business - Remembering Dr. David Dix

DD & JZ - August 2017

We called him Lord Business, inspired by the main antagonist in The Lego Movie that came out in the same year as Jaxon's leukemia diagnosis. Though Dr. Dix had an imposing stature, he had a kind presence and obvious heart for the kiddos in his care - far from the villianous traits of the character who inspired the nickname we gave him. He got a kick out of it. 

His presence in the early days of Jaxon's diagnosis was reassuring - we knew we were in good hands. His optimism and quiet confidence buoyed us through those days of uncertainty. We knew we had some serious business to attend to, and trusted that he would be the one to guide us through.

JZ was only actively under his direct care for the first 6 weeks or so, while we remained in Vancouver right after diagnosis. Our primary care then transferred to our beloved Dr. Ewa and the pediatric oncology team at Victoria General Hospital. When we had to make occassional trips to "the mother ship" at BCCH over the next three years, we got to see Dr. Dix. 

Dr. Dix, JZ, Nurse Clinician Lucy, Marty, Mom
Celebrating the end of treatment in August 2017.

We knew from some of our friends in cancerland that DD was well-loved by his patients and their families. I'm sure he made mistakes and didn't always get things right, but we didn't hear much about that. It was through one of these families that we learned of his recent passing, and we're so sad that he's gone.

Though our interactions with him were limited, it feels as though we have lost a friend - probably because he was a central figure during the most challenging event of our lives so far.

I found this tribute online, and reading it makes me even more grateful that he was part of our story.

Dr. David Dix : June 8 1961 – Dec 11, 2025

David Dix, known affectionately to those close to him as “Double-D,” was an exceptional hematologist-oncologist, clinician, researcher, and educator whose impact was felt locally, nationally, and internationally.

After his initial training in South Africa and a brief career as a general practitioner in rural Alberta, David completed his Pediatric Residency (including serving as Chief Resident) and his Hematology-Oncology fellowship at BC Children’s Hospital. His first academic position was in Toronto at The Hospital for Sick Children, where he began his career as both a clinician and educator, serving as Program Director. He later returned to Vancouver, where he remained until the end of his career.

David was an active member of the Histiocyte Society, but his greatest impact was at the Children’s Oncology Group, where he served on the Renal Tumor Committee and as Site Principal Investigator for BC Children’s. He led the AREN0532 study that changed the standard of care for children with favorable histology Wilms tumor and LOH 1p/16q or lung metastatic disease — work that continues to benefit young patients around the world.

As Program Director for over a decade at BC Children’s Hospital, David was a beloved mentor, friend, and often the “Work Dad” to countless trainees who have gone on to successful careers across the globe. Everyone who trained at BCCH experienced the incredible care and hospitality that David and Susan showed — from summer barbecues in their backyard to living room Journal Clubs. David made everyone feel welcome and part of the team, often by giving them a special nickname, and he always remembered you, even years later. He could always be counted on to be a good sport (dressing up with his fellows) and was always game for dinner at a conference or a fun evening out.

What we will remember most is how David gave incredible guidance and support when we needed it most — both at work and in our personal lives. His tireless work in education was recognized with the Royal College Specialty Committee Chair Service Award in 2013 and the Outstanding Contribution Award from the UBC Postgraduate Medical Education Program in 2025. His career in research and education earned him the rank of Clinical Professor at the University of British Columbia.

David’s greatest legacy, however, lives in the memories of those of us who considered him a friend.

David passed away peacefully at home on Thursday, December 11th, surrounded by loved ones after treatment for cancer. He is survived by his beloved wife Susan, his loving daughters Olivia and Hayley, his new son-in-law Teague, and his cherished pup Phoebe.

May we all remember the wonderful life he lived, the lessons he taught us, and the support he so selflessly gave, as we toast him with a Coors Light (yes, we mocked his choice of beer), a Diet Coke, or most appropriately, with a large glass of Sauvignon Blanc with a few ice cubes thrown in — “South African” style.

– Friends and Colleagues from the Division of Hematology/Oncology/BMT

https://pediatrics.med.ubc.ca/2025/12/15/in-memory-of-dr-david-dix-june-8-1961-dec-11-2025/

4-10-2024

4-10-2014 ... Ten years today, since Cancer came to our family.

Every year I have different thoughts and feelings and musings about our experience. Overwhelmingly, I feel grateful.

Grateful that he got "the good one" (no such thing, but we are mindful that the prognosis for Pre-B ALL is generally optimistic). Grateful that he was considered "standard risk" (could easily have been "high risk" if things didn't go according to plan in the first few weeks of treatment). Grateful that he responded exceedingly well to treatment (not all kids who get a "standard risk diagnosis" of "the good one" respond well to treatment - some of them do not survive). Grateful that so far we have seen no physical long-term effects of the chemotherapies and steroids that his body was pumped with for 1,158 days between the ages of 5-8 - a critical time for growth and development (many friends face significant physical complications and pain - long after their treatment ends). Grateful that the psychological impact of the experience has been relatively mild (as far as we know - that could change). Grateful that our family is intact (many marriages, partnerships and family units do not survive the experience).

Grateful that our boy is here with us.

Grateful for the many days when we don't think about cancer at all.

Grateful that we get to watch him grow into a well-loved friend, leader in his community, passionate to stay active and healthy. He really doesn't enjoy the spotlight, so I'll sneak into here that he was recently honoured as the player on his hockey team with the Most Team Spirit and was a co-recipient of the Official (referee / linesman) of the Year award from our hockey association.

Gratitude is not the only thing I'm feeling as I look back on the past ten years. I am forever changed. My heart and eyes have been opened to the reality faced by parents of sick kids. Childhood cancer has absolutely been the most traumatic event of our family's life - but he's alive and he's well. I have learned the importance of holding space for those with kids affected by Batten Disease, Diabetes, disordered eating, behavioral disorders, and congenital heart defects. I understand a little bit more about grief, and feel a bit more deeply when I see people forced to mourn the loss of the life they thought they might experience. Babies with cancer and grandparents and young adults and moms and dads in their prime - gone too soon. Marriages and families rocked by mental illness, parents desperately struggling to find support for their kids with complex medical and psychological needs. Kids with cancer and kids without cancer and all the other humans living in war zones. Sometimes it just feels like too much.

Life is really hard. And it's really beautiful too.

May we all find a balance that fits - even just for a moment, a reprieve when we need it most, hope when we think there is none, moments of joy in the midst of sorrow, strength beyond strength, rest for the weary.

Every spring when I see the cherry blossoms and dandelions - I'm reminded that life can change in an instant (or a slow progression), I'm stronger than I think, my family is surrounded by love, my life is beautiful, even though it can be really, really hard.

That's what I'm thinking about on 4-10-2024.

Relentless

One of my greatest take-aways from our experience with childhood cancer is that more people need to become grief-literate. More people need to learn how to support people in their lives who are experiencing profound loss. More people need to learn what NOT to do or say when people in their lives are experiencing profound loss. I listened to this two-part podcast this week - two dads sharing and supporting one another in the aftermath of their sons' tragic deaths.

Relentless Podcast - 2 fathers discuss loss, grief & aftermath of heartbreaking tragedy - Part 1

Part 2. Chris Joseph & Kyle Dubé - 2 Fathers discuss loss, grief & aftermath of heartbreaking tragedy.

* You can watch the video / listen via the link or in your podcast app.

* Contains discussions of teen/young adult deaths by vehicle crash and suicide.

I tried really hard to format the links to look the same but there's a gremlin in the formatting.

Both are links to the podcast episode web pages.

he got himself a mullet.

The first few weeks of April have become a major point of reflection for me, since cancer came to our family 9 years ago. In some ways it feels like a lifetime, and sometimes the memories take me right back to those early, uncertain days. Like when I hear of a child we met at RMH passing away after numerous relapses, or a young adult (still her mama’s baby girl) being diagnosed. Or when I’m in a room of about 15 baseball volunteers from our valley and THREE of us are parents of a kid who has had cancer. Childhood cancer is not rare and it is relentless and we need to find safer and more effective treatment protocols so that more kids get to become “long-term survivors” like mine has. “Long term” is only 5 years past diagnosis date, which really isn’t that long at all. Always, ever, so very grateful that we get to watch him grow and live his life to the fullest. Every kid deserves to get a mullet haircut if they so choose. That, he did.

Tommy's Award

April 10. In 2014 he was flown to BC Children’s hospital to begin life saving treatment for Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. That lasted 3 years. One of his biggest asks for when he was finished treatment was to join his friends in minor hockey. It wasn’t long before we realized hockey would become a big thing in his life.

4-10-2022 was a really special day as we got to gather with our hockey family and community to celebrate the season for all the players. JZ was honoured with two awards - Most Dedicated from his coaches and the Tom Trottier Memorial Award for Most Sportsmanlike Defenseman (Association award).

With Steve Beck & Jenny Fawcett
Jenny is the Mom of an ALL Survivor,
so this was pretty special for her to present.

I learned a little bit about Tommy, as his sister calls him. What she told me makes this award extra special to me, as a Mom. “He died while peacekeeping in Cypress in 1988. He was a twin to Gerry (also served for Canada) and brother to 2 sisters. He was 21 when he died. My parents wanted to preserve his existence in this world by a reward to local minor hockey, something that we all grew up with here in Lake Cowichan. Tommy’s legacy is one of fairness, fun, humour, loyalty and love. We remember him with great love and at the same time humour, fun zest for life and unconditional love for family and friends. I would like to thank you for asking. It means so much. I’m proud that your child won this award. Time goes on, love never dies.”

Private Thomas Julien Trottier
Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry
3rd Battalion - United Nations Forces In Cyprus
Died April 25, 1988

4-2-2023: My guy. Once again honoured by the grownups in his life, recognizing him for his character and quiet leadership on and off the ice.

Tom Trottier Memorial Award for Most Sportsmanlike Defenseman
Presented by LCDMHA President / Coach / Mentor - Steve Beck

too many kids with cancer

Since my boy was diagnosed with Leukemia in 2014, close to 1000 other kids in BC have received a cancer diagnosis. As of today I personally know 4 families from “before cancer” who have received the news of a cancer diagnosis for their child. It has to stop! Until a way to stop it has been found, we have to keep striving for safer, more effective ways to minimize the long term effects and deaths. Many kids who do not survive their diagnosis are lost to complications of the “treatment”, not the cancer itself.

That’s why I will not stop raising my voice.

5 Years Out

Sarah, Charity, Krista, Anne <3
They've been part of our team since Month 2 (May 2014).

5-years off treatment check-up in Vic today. Postponed from June because the Dr. was sick. Sure is nice to delay an oncology appointment by 3 months with no worries. The ladies spent a long time marvelling at how tall and grown up he is. We are Ever. So. Grateful. Even JUST ONE kid with cancer is TOO MANY kids with cancer.

June 11th was officially 5 years off-chemo!

I can think of no better way to celebrate F. I. V. E. years off chemo than the day we had today. We had a surprise visit from friends who we met along the way - knowing their boy is no longer with them earthside makes our gratitude ever so much deeper. W fam - we love you and we miss your boy and we think of him often. JZ spent the day with his ball team and their families - pool party, wiffle ball game, man-tracker game, and just sharing space together. We are ever so grateful to have reached this really significant milestone in the life of a childhood cancer patient that is officially called “long-term, event free survival” or something like that.

we are aware.

"Make September Gold" for Childhood Cancer Awareness Month

We are aware. And we are thankful that since the time of Jaxon's diagnosis in 2014, some advancements have been made in the treatment for Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. The protocol still includes medications developed for adults well over half a century ago, and it's still brutal, but it's a little bit less so. If he had been diagnosed in the past year or so at the same risk level (standard risk, not 'low' or 'high' or 'very high') he would have had slightly less chemo (the one he got via IV every month is now given every 3 months) and less frequent steroid pulses (also given quarterly now rather than monthly). It's still horrendous.

Jerry the Moose and Miracle Treats

Me and JZ and Jerry the Moose did our part on DQ’s #miracletreatday for #bcchf in #clearwaterbc

We had a lengthy, unplanned visit to my humble little hometown.

I was at my Mom & Dad's recovering from my first (and hopefully last) experience with vertigo (post-Covid).

JZ joined me in Grandma's Convalescence Home after contracting a bothersome childhood virus at summer camp. Grandpa drove to West Kelowna to fetch him.

We ate a lot of popsicles, and got to celebrate our last evening with a treat that helped support sick kids and their families in British Columbia.

thirty eight.

When Jaxon finished treatment for Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia on June 11, 2017 - he had been on chemo for 38 months (3.17 years, 165.47 weeks, 1158 days). 

As of 6:00 this evening, he has been off chemo (and the wretched steroids) for as long as he was on! This feels like a really big deal. 

He's been off treatment for just over 3 years.

His most recent check-up in June happened virtually due to Covid-19, and his blood counts were perfectly within normal range. That was the last of his quarterly check-ups. Next one is in December. He'll have check-ups every six months until June 2022, which will take us to 5 years off treatment which is a REALLY big deal in the childhood cancer experience. From there he'll have check-ups once a year until he's old enough to make his own medical decisions. 

We are grateful.

Covid-19

hello?

Hi.

I thought I couldn't access my blog anymore for some reason,
but it seems that I can!

All is well 2.5 years after completing treatment.

Dr. Ewa told me on Tuesday that it's probably time for me to stop keeping track of Jaxon's bloodwork results. They've been normal and "in the black" with no caution flags for ... a long time.

We'll see. I do like to track his height and weight. He's perfectly within the 50th percentile for his age group and thriving at school and his new passion - hockey!

I'm hoping to finish up a few posts that have been sitting in my "drafts" folder for a long time, especially as there is some exciting news to share as a result of the study Jaxon was on for his treatment ... and some other progressive steps in the treatment of his diagnosis - Standard Risk Pre-B Cell Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia.

Next quarterly appointments are March and June 2020.

Then he'll move to biannual visits in December 2020, June 2021, December 2021, June 2022.

Then annual from June 2023 until he's old enough to make his own medical decisions.

More to come.

While you wait, I encourage you to find somewhere to donate blood!

www.blood.ca

Please leave a comment so I know you're reading. :)

Mercaptopurine (6-MP)

Mercaptopurine (click for more info) is one of the cornerstones of treatment for Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia in children. Jaxon started taking it during the 28 days of Consolidation, the second month of frontline treatment (May 15 - June 11/14), then not again until he began long-term maintenance in December 2014. He took it nearly every day for the next 900 or so, only skipping about 12 doses due to low counts. 

For the majority of his treatment, he was required to take 6-MP on an empty stomach. It was generally believed by most of the VIPs of childhood cancer treatment that food, especially dairy and citrus, interfered with the absorption of 6-MP, thus jeopardizing its efficacy. This was manageable during Consolidation as I would just wake him up at around midnight, give the meds, and back to sleep he went. 

During LTM, when he had 5 days of steroids and about 5 days of steroids-hangover, it became much more difficult. With unstable emotions, difficulty making decisions, trouble falling asleep, ever-changing food cravings and aversions ... it was really hard to maintain a dose of meds given on an empty stomach. It was a big ask to send the boy to bed hungry when he had spent the whole day not sure of what he wanted to eat and then he FINALLY made a decision. Saying no because it was almost medicine time was just not going to fly. He was supposed to take the 6-MP at as close the same time of day as possible. All that to say, I spent 2.5 years rousing him from his sleep 2 hours after his last bite to eat, just enough to give the meds, and making sure he swallowed fully before laying back down to sleep. I think we might have switched between giving it in the morning and the evening, but for the most part it was done around midnight. That was also encouraged because of the nausea that often came along with the dose. Sleeping it off was better than toughing through it in the morning.

As with the Dex, we started with liquid 6-MP. We only did that for the first round of it in Consolidation. Again, the volume of it plus something to mask it (we used a touch of chocolate syrup during Consolidation) was just too much. We learned that the tablets were easily dissolved in just a tiny bit of warm water, so we changed tactic once he started LTM.

Medicine box during Consolidation.

This photo and all the ones below were taken during the last week of oral chemo!
On Thursdays he also took a dose of oral methotrexate, except for the 1st week
of every 85-day cycle when he received MTX into his spine via an LP.

I was supposed to wear gloves and a mask even just to open the bottle of 6-MP. I did not comply. Parents of kids on chemo who wear diapers are supposed to wear gloves to change them. :( I got very good at pouring the pills from the bottle to the daily box, then from the box into a 5ml syringe. I would pull about 3ml warm water from a tiny glass that I used only for that purpose. I'd cap the syringe and shake it until the pills dissolved. Carefully remove the cap so it didn't splash, remove all the air, pull a tiny bit of Mio water flavouring (orange only! to mask the taste), replace cap and shake again. If you've ever seen one of those little water flavouring bottles you can probably imagine why it worked so well. All without touching any! I could even get them split in half (he took 1.5 pills for a long time) without touching anything. The pill splitter and box went to the biohazard garbage at the hospital when we were done with them.

Label removed, clearly marked with warnings, and kept tucked away in the medicine box.

We called it "drinky medicine".
(Never to be confused with "sleepy medicine"!)
I would carefully remove the cap and he'd suck it up.
By the end of treatment, he was a total pro.
But still, to this day, he will not swallow a pill.
Lots of kids, even really little ones, can swallow their pills with no problem.

Just a few months before his end of treatment date, the powers that be decided that there was no clear advantage to taking 6-MP on an empty stomach. "The Moms" (our oncologist worked really hard not to roll her eyes when I mentioned "The Moms" from an online support group I'm a part of) had been talking and swapping stories for months about how some hospitals lifted the food restrictions around 6-MP while others had not. Every month I'd ask her if she'd heard anything official, and every month it was ... "not yet".  It was such a relief when we finally got the go-ahead to take the 6-MP with food. What a difference it would have made for the previous 800+ doses. We're so glad that new patients don't have to experience that part of it.

This was the penultimate dose.
There was always a bit of residual medicine in the syringe so we always
pulled two extra syringes worth of the warm water in to get it all out.
Syringes went into a biohazard box that we returned to clinic when it was full.
I felt awful with the amount of syringes we went through, but it was just what worked for us. 

Sunday June 11, 2017 was a great day for dinner at friends-who-are-family's house.
They got to celebrate his last dose of chemo with us. It was pretty exciting.
He swigged it back and rode off into the sunset on a borrowed bike, and no helmet.

These friends ... there with us through it all! 

That's our story about mercaptopurine.

hello. all is well.

Hi friends.

I'm working on getting this old blog updated with more of the details from treatment and our life since then. I'll be backdating some posts, so they won't show at the top.

Nearly 2 years off of active treatment, Jaxon is 10 years old and thriving. He completed his first full season of minor hockey in March and began his 6th season of minor baseball on April 1.

April 10 was the 5th anniversary of his diagnosis.

It was also the first game of ball season - a home opener!

Five years today was our family’s darkest day when we learned of Jaxon’s leukemia diagnosis. We didn’t know what the next hours or days would look like but here we are now. Ever and always grateful. Rejoicing with other survivors, remembering the ones who are still walking through the deep waters of treatment and uncertainty, and honouring the ones who are no longer with us. ♥️ Even JUST ONE kid with cancer is TOO MANY KIDS WITH CANCER!

Today, after spending 4 hours playing lots of road hockey and a little bit of video games with his friends he asked me "what are we doing today?".

Life is good.

Jax accumulated a LOT of Lego over his 3 years in treatment, and continued to collect after as well. In January he decided to reduce his collection. Some favourites were kept, some given to brother Marty, some sent to the consignment store, and several smaller sets donated to the peds oncology clinic at VGH for kids to build on long days, or just to take home.

Jax and Tucker sorting Lego - January 2019
{Tucker is 11, one year and one month older than his littlest boy.}

the "button"

Jaxon received his VAD (Ventricular Access Device) in the early days after diagnosis. I'd have to look back on my notes to see exactly which day. It's probably on this blog somewhere. Many young kids are taught to refer to it as their "button". More formally referred to as a port.

This is an x-ray of JZ's chest with VAD.
I don't remember how I acquired this image.

The Button was removed in August 2017. I asked the surgeon if it was possible for us to receive it as a keepsake. He said that was most likely not possible. 

Pre-op Tylenol

The very last "access" of his VAD.

The aptly named "Tele-Tubby" bandage to protect the port while accessed.

Passing time, awaiting surgery.

He was the happiest, goofiest patient - almost always.
Only when he felt really poorly did he complain.
This was a very happy day.

The Button!
Somehow it got sanitized and placed in a specimen cup
and dropped out of a hole in the surgeon's pocket into my waiting hand. :)
It still sits on JZ's bedside shelf, beside his pictures of friend Lucas. xo

Delicious recovery treat.

Update: 4-10-2024

The Button that somehow got sanitized and placed in a specimen cup and dropped out of a hole in the surgeon's pocket into my waiting hand no longer sits on the bedside shelf of 15 year-old JZ. It's tucked away somewhere safe. The scars on his chest and neck remain.

And we still miss Lucas.

#kidsgetcancertoo

Kids get cancer too. We honour them with the colour GOLD - especially in September, when we raise our voices even more to increase awareness (IT'S NOT RARE) and to raise money for meaningful research that will lead to safer treatments, fewer relapses, and more long-term survivorship. ("Long term" is actually only 5 years when we talk about childhood survivors of cancer.) Even JUST ONE kid with cancer is TOO MANY KIDS WITH CANCER! AWARENESS + ACTION = FUNDING ... which just might lead to a cure. 🎗

counting down

APRIL 4, 2017

May 24, 2017

MAY 29, 2017

JUNE 5, 2017

last DEX dose

WE'RE SO HAPPY TO BE DONE WITH DEX!

May 29, 2017 @ 9:55am

For the first few months, Jaxon's dexamethasone was given as an oral liquid. Later on we switched to pills because the volume of the liquid he had to take in (med plus flavour to mask the taste) became unbearable for him (and me - the one making him do it). The pills were really tiny and he said they didn't taste like much of anything. As he wasn't able to swallow pills, we had to get creative. We started cutting a slit in jelly beans and giving them that way (with a chaser bean), but eventually switched to Swedish Berries. They were a much softer vessel, (straight, no chaser). Pic below shows how I would prepare the 5 days of double doses. 



First dose was always taken the evening of his clinic appointment, 2 daily doses for 4 days, then final dose the morning of Day 6. 

Dosage for Dex varied through the first few months of treatment according to protocol, and increased gradually through long-term maintenance according to his BSA (body surface area).

3mg/m2 daily for the first 4 weeks. (April 12 - May 7, 2014) 
(Don't recall the actual dose he had.)

7.5mg total daily (in 2 doses) August 8-14/14
7.75mg total daily (in 2) August 25-31/14

5mg total daily x 5 days monthly Dec/14-Aug/15
5.25mg total daily x 5 days monthly Sep-Oct/15
5.5mg total daily x 5 days monthly Nov/15-Apr/16
5.75mg total daily x 5 days monthly May-Jul/16
6mg total daily x 5 days monthly Aug/16-Jan/17
6.25mg total daily x 5 days monthly Feb-Apr/17
6.5mg total daily x 5 days monthly May-June 2017
and no more!

I've posted before about how troublesome steroids are for kids in treatment. No joke. The stuff is horrid.