`JUST A MIRACLE' WESTLAKE'S GHADBAN BEATS CANCER TWICE, RETURNS TO SOCCER FIELD.

Byline: Ross Siler Staff Writer

One month after he left UCLA Medical Center in the spring, Rabeh Ghadban walked into a neighborhood Kinko's ready to have his picture taken. The hair on his head had vanished. His skin was white as paper. Even his eyebrows and eyelashes were gone.

``I'm sure I freaked everyone out,'' said Ghadban, a 17-year-old senior forward on the Westlake High boys' soccer team. ``They had no idea what happened to me.''

But Ghadban just smiled for the camera. The portrait of a stem-cell transplant survivor was being taken along with so many passport photos.

To this day, Ghadban keeps the snapshot in the front of his wallet, ahead of even his California driver's license. He sees it every time he reaches into his pocket, every day of his life.

``It's just a constant reminder of what I've been through and how far I came,'' he said. ``And how lucky I am that I'm able to have the little things in life that I took advantage of before.''

The most significant of those is soccer, and Ghadban's comeback story has played out all season on the Warriors' field. Only seven months after undergoing the transplant May 8, Ghadban resumed playing for Westlake, donning an orange No. 4 jersey and starting most of this season's games.

He is the team's second-leading scorer with four goals and will play his final high school game tonight against Calabasas. His hair also has grown back to the point that his black curls now creep over his ears and bounce in time as he runs down the field.

In the Marmonte League, the coaches call his return remarkable. In the stands, the Westlake fans describe him as the ``one who beat cancer.'' But Ghadban's mother, Waffa, has another description for it.

``It's just a miracle,'' she said. ``Sometimes you don't believe in miracles. This one came true.''

At the medical center where Ghadban spent nearly six months undergoing chemotherapy treatments, the doctors and nurses follow his progress on the soccer field almost weekly.

``He's captured the hearts of everyone here,'' said Dr. Ted Moore, clinical director of the pediatric hematology and oncology department. ``We're all so proud of him. We're all fans of his.''

But the road back never was easy for Ghadban. It started with a cancer diagnosis on a family trip to Lebanon in July, 2001. What started as a cold left Ghadban's neck and face looking as swollen as a chipmunk. He went to see a doctor. The tests proved the worst.

Before Ghadban knew a tumor was growing next to his heart, he was an avid soccer-playing sophomore at Westlake with dreams of a Division I scholarship, a starting midfielder on the Southern California state Olympic Development team.

Westlake junior varsity coach Frank Marino - now a close friend of the family - knew he had a player the first time he saw Ghadban. He had to talk the freshman into playing at the school (instead of the SoCal United club team) but Marino's work quickly was rewarded.

``I remember when he played he always had the chance to make the simple pass on the field,'' Marino said. ``But he'd always make the brilliant pass instead. He was wonderful to watch.''

By the next year, Ghadban was playing varsity for Warriors coach Bill Propster, in his seventh year at the school. Ghadban befriended the older players and came off the bench, one of just two sophomores on varsity.

His life was playing soccer. He even agonized over the decision to head to Lebanon with his family instead of playing in a club tournament. But Marino pushed him to make the trip. Soccer always would be there. Two weeks later, the coach got the call on his cell phone from Ghadban.

Thinking his favorite player was on his way to Fatburger - a running joke between the two - Marino instead learned Ghadban had lymphoma.

Immediately, Ghadban returned from Lebanon and checked into UCLA to begin chemotherapy and radiation treatments. He was given a better-than-90-percent chance of living and went home Thanksgiving weekend. A CT scan showed the tumor had disappeared.

With the soccer season already under way, Ghadban returned for a week of practice in December. Propster was stunned. The coach thought Ghadban would leave after warm-ups. Instead he ran sprints on an 80-degree day with the rest of the team.

Ghadban targeted a January game against rival Thousand Oaks for his return. Marino, meanwhile, went over to play basketball against Ghadban at his family's house. The coach lost their game of H-O-R-S-E, something he never will live down.

``He was joking that I'd lost to a cancer patient,'' Marino said. ``It was like the (Rabeh) of old. We were so close to him being back.''

But then Ghadban missed practice on a Monday over Christmas break. He called Propster to tell him he had pneumonia but to expect him Wednesday. Ghadban didn't make that practice, either. The tumor in his chest had returned.

His odds of living were cut in half.

When Ghadban was re-admitted to UCLA in January of 2002, the course of action changed completely. Instead of undergoing standard chemotherapy, Ghadban underwent high-intensity treatments that ravaged his immune system and rotted away his GI tract.

The goal was to eliminate the tumor, destroying his bone marrow in the process, then perform a stem-cell transplant that would allow Ghadban's body to create new white-blood cells. He acted as his own donor. UCLA performs more than 100 such transplants every year, Moore said, including about 25 on children.

The effects, though, were clear when Propster and Marino went to visit Ghadban in the hospital after he checked in. Waiting in the hall with IVs tethered to his body, the former player was almost unrecognizable to the two coaches.

``I said to Frank, `The light in here must really be bothering him because he's wearing sunglasses,' '' Propster said. ``Then we got closer and his eyes were just totally black. He wasn't wearing sunglasses at all. That's how bad he was.''

Those around Ghadban were strong - starting with his mother, father Ray and three sisters - though none was stronger than the 16-year-old himself. Moore remembered a conversation he and Ghadban had as soon as the cancer was re-diagnosed.

``He just said, `Whatever it takes, Dr. Moore.' He said, `We're in this together. We're doing this as a team.'''

Marino, who broke down upon learning Ghadban's cancer had returned, played hours of cards with him in the hospital. The two came up with a saying to get through the days: ``No worries.''

Ghadban underwent the stem-cell transplant May 8 and was discharged from the hospital two weeks later. The tumor was gone for the second time, and this time it has stayed away. But Ghadban is examined every three months and must wait three years to determine if it is gone for good.

He also endured a scare this past week. A cold that limited Ghadban to playing just 18 minutes on Senior Night on Monday against Newbury Park turned out to be just that - a cold.

``It's pretty insane,'' said Ghadban, who gained two inches and lost 10 pounds from the year he spent fighting cancer. His full strength is not projected to return for another year.

``But you learn a lot from what you go through.''

Although Ghadban has returned to full strength on the soccer field, it's life off the field that has presented the biggest challenge.

He must take 10 classes this semester - including three over the Internet at night - just to graduate on time with his class this spring. As a result, Ghadban spends an extra hour at night by the computer, studying when his classmates probably are sleeping.

He also has had to adjust to high school after missing his entire junior year. The picture in his wallet, Ghadban said, helps keep things in perspective when others his age find things to complain about.

``People talk to me about how school sucks, it's so tough and everything,'' Ghadban said. ``I'm like, `What are you talking about? It can be a lot worse.' ''

Once he graduates from Westlake, Ghadban is unsure what he wants to do. He has applied to several UC schools, but most likely will attend Moorpark College, near his family's new house, after missing so much time in high school.

Marino thinks Ghadban still has the potential to be a college soccer player. Moore thinks Ghadban someday would make a fantastic oncologist. The doctor even wrote a recommendation letter for Ghadban as he applies to college.

``He's got compassion and he's a sharp guy all around,'' Moore said. ``If he goes on to medicine, we'd love to have him come here and work for us.''

Ghadban, however, is a little hesitant: ``I don't know if I have the dedication to be an oncologist. No matter what I'm doing, though, I want to stay involved in the cancer society helping other people.''

STEM CELL TRANSPLANTATION 

As in Rabeh Ghadban's case, a patient's own stem cells (or bone marrow) can be used to treat many forms of cancer, including lymphoma, leukemia, myeloma and testicular cancer. High doses of chemotherapy (and sometimes radiotherapy) are given to improve the chances of curing the disease. The high-dose treatment destroys cells in the patient's bone marrow. The patient's own stem cells (or, less commonly, bone marrow) can be used to help ``rescue'' him or her from the intensive treatment. Some of the patient's own stem cells (or bone marrow) are taken and stored before he or she receives high doses of treatment. When the treatment is completed, the patient's stem cells (or bone marrow) are returned to the patient through a transfusion.

Source: CancerBACUP

CAPTION(S):

photo, box

Photo:

(color) Rabeh Ghadban returned to Westlake's soccer team seven months after undergoing a stem-cell transplant.

Joel P. Lugavere/Special to the Daily News

Box:

STEM CELL TRANSPLANTATION (see text)