Beauregard runners battle more than the course

Reprinted with permission.  Original Article by David Morrison of the Opelika-Auburn News.

Zach Sollie had spent only seven months on this earth when his parents found out he had only 12 months to live.

It started with a red stain in his diaper, which his parents suspected was a urinary tract infection or something else manageable, until they took him for a check-up and doctors found a tumor on his left kidney.

When the Sollies made a trip to the Children’s Hospital in Birmingham, doctors were nearly certain they were looking at a Wilms’ tumor, a fairly common and treatable — but still dangerous — form of childhood cancer.

The pathology report came back as a rhabdoid tumor, a much rarer form of cancer with a much bleaker prognosis.

“There were no known survivors at that time, and they gave us absolutely no hope that he would survive this,” Zach’s mother, Lena Sollie, said. “It was known for micrometastasis, so they told us when he was diagnosed he had cancer most likely throughout his body, with no way of detecting it.”

Sollie underwent surgery to remove the affected kidney, then through an eight-month course of chemotherapy, and came out cancer-free.

Subsequent yearly check-ups showed no recurrence.

Predictably Sollie, now a sophomore cross country runner at Beauregard, has no recollection of that period in his life beyond what his parents tell him.

But he’s certain about how those eight months still affect him today.

“I feel that I’m here today for some reason. I guess I am fortunate to be here today,” Sollie said. “It’s an opportunity I have to encourage others that might be going through some of their hard times, through their struggles.”

Jan. 24, 1995
Lena Sollie has the date written on the first page of her Bible: Jan. 24, 1995.

The day she believes God chose to save her second-born child.

Sollie and a 10-month-old Zach were up in Birmingham for another round of chemotherapy, and the two took an elevator ride down to the lobby to pass about an hour-long window before the treatment started.

Sollie said there was a nurse and two other men on the elevator with them, men that she didn’t pay much attention to until one of them put his hands on Zach’s head and started mumbling a prayer.

“As a mom, I was like, ‘Oh, that’s sweet,’” Sollie said. “But these men weren’t very appealing. They were just kind of dirty and homeless-looking, and I just thought, ‘Please don’t touch my child.’”

As Sollie exited the elevator, she said she turned around to thank the men, but they had disappeared into the dinner rush in the hospital lobby.

That night Zach didn’t get sick during the chemotherapy session, the first time Sollie said that had happened in his course of treatment.

Zach, who had lost a dangerous amount of weight during the first three months of hit therapy, started putting on some pounds.

“That was just kind of our turning point with him,” Lena Sollie said. “From that point on, he began to regain his strength, he began to tolerate the chemotherapy well.

“It was literally like things just took a U-turn.”

Sollie said she and her husband, Glenn, wondered if that man on the elevator could have been an angel.

In any case, she said the family’s faith — the Sollies are members of Lakeview Baptist Church in Auburn — helped get them through the trying time.

“We just really had to cling to our faith, more than anything,” Sollie said. “We choose to believe that God literally healed Zachary from his cancer.”

‘The race is small in comparison’
Hornets cross country coach Glenn Copeland believes that Zach Sollie plays an important role on his team, and not just because the sophomore will be one of Beauregard’s top finishers at the Class 5A state meet in Oakville today.

Ditto for eighth grader Jeremy Gooden, who is far from the Hornets’ lead pack.

Copeland believes both runners’ trials — Zach with his cancer survival story and Jeremy with his continued management of Type 1 diabetes — serve as examples for the rest of the team.

“They have respect for both of them, especially their character,” Copeland said. “Both are class acts.”

Sollie runs in the 18:50-range for five kilometers (3.1 miles), and hopes to go under 18:30 today. Gooden runs around 23 minutes and hopes to break 20 at the state meet.

But it’s always a race-time decision as to whether Gooden will even be able to run.

The eighth grader, who was diagnosed with diabetes in 2001, said he has to prick his finger before every race to make sure his blood sugar level is normal.

If it’s too high or low, he can’t go.

“When I’m running and it’s high, I can’t run as good as when it’s normal,” Gooden said. “When it’s low … I can’t run good, either.”

Copeland said the key to managing Gooden’s condition and still letting him participate with the team is communication.

“You just don’t want him out there at Mile 2 with the chance that something’s gonna happen to him,” Copeland said. “He’s done a good job of maintaining it.”

As for Sollie, Copeland believes his early life troubles give the sophomore a healthy mindset when he’s entering a race.

Three miles doesn’t seem all that tough when you’ve survived cancer.

“It gives you a different perspective on life,” Copeland said. “The race is small in comparison.”

A Formative Experience
Lena Sollie wouldn’t wish her experience with Zach on her worst enemy.

But she also wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

“That’s who we are, going through that trial has made us who we are,” Sollie said. “It’s been a very integral part of our lives.”

It affected Lena for obvious reasons.

It affected Glenn, who had to care for the Sollies’ 2-year-old daughter and maintain his job as a structural engineer while Lena and Zach were up in Birmingham for chemotherapy.

It affected that 2-year-old, Terri, who is now about to graduate high school and has made a habit out of researching rhabdoid tumors with her mother.

It affected Zach, and not just because he can’t play contact sports without a kidney.

“I don’t really think about it often, but when I do I see it as I’m here for a reason,” Sollie said. “There’s a reason that I’m here, and I try to live my life according to that reason.”

Zach Sollie should not be here.

If the odds weren’t already stacked against him enough with a rare, aggressive form of childhood cancer, the equally aggressive course of chemotherapy he endured made them even longer.

Yet here he is, 15 years later, cancer-free.

“There are days I feel like my heart is going to explode. I just look at him and … ‘overwhelmed’ doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel,” Lena Sollie said. “Not only is he healthy, but just the heart, character and strength we see in him.

“I’m just grateful, every time I look at him.”