A throng of NYPD cops, a motorcycle escort, a K-9 unit and a police horse named Gomez waited in the parking lot of a Queens children’s hospital where 7-year-old Anthony Rojas was released Thursday after four years of inpatient treatment for a rare lung disease.
Young Anthony soaked it all in, the bomb squad appearance, the nurses who lined the driveway of St. Mary’s Hospital for Children in Bayside singing “One Call Away” by Charlie Puth, the endless fist bumps and high fives.
Only when the helicopter flew overhead in his honor did the little boy appear overwhelmed.
Then he rose from his wheelchair, in Air Jordans as white as his doctor’s lab coat, flashed a thumbs up and got in the back of a squad car that would take him to his Long Island home to finally begin a normal life.
“Thank you, St. Mary’s, for taking care of me,” Anthony simply said.
He had to pull down his mask to be heard. Someone asked what was on the top of his to-do list.
The answer was short and sweet.
“To do stuff with Dylan, my brother,” he said.
Then, the motorcycles roared, the squad car pulled off and Anthony was bound for a long-awaited playdate at home with his 5-year old sibling.
Anthony was diagnosed with bronchiolitis obliterans, a rare inflammatory condition that affects the lungs. The chronic disease is commonly known as “popcorn lung,” due to the fact it was first discovered among workers at a microwave popcorn plant. The ailment caused scarring in Anthony’s lungs and made it difficult for him to breathe. He became dependent on supplemental oxygen.
But even though he had to wear an oxygen tube at all times, the device never got in the way of his smile.
“We’re leaving very happy,” said Anthony’s mother, Lucy Ramirez: “This is a new beginning. Thank you to all St. Mary’s staff. You guys did a wonderful job with him. We leave with him going home good and happy.”
When Anthony was 3, what appeared to be a normal cold progressed into a rare genetic condition that caused abnormal cells to grow in his lungs, doctor said. Multiple infusion treatments and weekly steroid medication put him on the road to recovery.
“At one point, he was on the transplant list for a double lung transplant,” said Dina Spierer, a pediatric nurse who manages St. Mary’s clinical discharges. “He then got sicker, and he was off the list because he was too sick. At this point now, he’s off the list because he’s doing really well, thank God.”
Anthony remains on a portable oxygen concentrator because he still needs constant oxygen flow through his nose. Spierer said it is uncertain if Anthony will need surgery in the future, but they’re taking it day by day.
“It’s really St. Mary’s team that brought him to this point right now, and no one expected it,” Spierer said. “His prognosis right now seems pretty good. The plan is for him to be home, get comfortable in the community and then hopefully go to a regular community school.”
The prognosis is good news for the cops who adopted Anthony as one of their own. His relationship with the police department started with the NYPD’s HOPE program — Heroism, Optimism, Perseverance and Encouragement — which brings terminally-ill children to fun department events.
As part of the program started in 2018 by Det. Anthony Passaro and Deputy Inspector Paul Valarga, little Anthony became an honorary officer at police headquarters, where he got to meet the commissioner and go out on an assignment.
He said the oath, raised his right hand and swore to uphold the law.
“I called Anthony the boss,” Passaro said. “Anthony was Chief Anthony to us. And throughout our time with him, from the first day we had him at One Police Plaza in 2018 until now, he’s taught us lessons in faith and hope and family, taught us lessons in love and never giving up that hope. Knowing what he was going through and knowing what he deals with every day, and to know that he could still smile as bright as he did, it made us better people.”
Outside the hospital, Anthony, wearing a white NYPD chief shirt, took control of a bomb squad robot, maneuvering the device across the parking lot pavement. Real toys await him at home.
“It wasn’t easy, but we were always united as a family, always supporting each other,” said Anthony’s father, Darwin Rojas. “This was an unforgettable experience because St. Mary’s is like a second family.”
As happy as the hospital staff was about Anthony’s progress, doctors and nurses were a little sad to see him go.
“It’s a wonderful day here at St. Mary’s,” said hospital president Edwin Simpser. “When you think back almost four years ago when Anthony came to St. Mary’s, I’m not sure that anybody, at least in the family, dreamed about a day like this that we’d be able to send him home. But it’s the resilience of Anthony, his family, and the wonderful work of the staff here at St. Mary’s that brought us here to this day.
“We’re looking forward, Anthony, for you to do great things. Just keep up the great work, and keep getting stronger and stronger. All the best. We love you, guy.”
