Remission Test Results

After checking the mailbox for the letter from the John Theurer Cancer Center, for the third day in a row, I caved and called to get my remission test result. No news should be good news, but during the wait, there's always a "What if it's bad, and they just haven't called yet?"

In this case, no news is good news. The blood sample was negative for the APL chromosome abnormality. As of May 25th, I will officially have been in remission for one year. I'm already contemplating chocolate cake choices...

At the moment, I feel a mix of relief and trepidation. This afternoon, while lying on the couch, enduring the side effects of the ATRA, I searched the Internet for APL and came across some cases of patients who have relapsed. As if the meds don't have me in enough of a tizzy right now... I want to believe the cure rate for this disease is 100%, and I hate reading any evidence to the contrary. These people are in my prayers. I pray that they will be eating chocolate cake soon too.

Train of Thought

A conductor on my train ride home yesterday evening hit on me. It took me by complete surprise. Cancer patients generally are not the target of smooth dudes, but I guess my hat looked like it was meant to provide warmth, given the cool temperature. He called me, "beautiful."

My immediate reaction to his compliment: "No, I'm not. I have cancer." I wanted to take off my hat and say, "Look at me. I'm not beautiful. I am broken."

Life is a Beach

Throughout the past two weeks, life has felt a lot more like a b*tch than a beach. But I believe God has a master plan, and there's got to be a lot of white sandy beaches in that plan, right? My goal is to be walking along one of those beaches by August (no, the Jersey Shore does not count).

Today we received good news. The results of my bone marrow test came back, and they confirmed the original diagnosis. The type of Leukemia I have is currently the most curable of the varieties. It has an 80-85% remission rate.

Now that they know the exact type, they will be starting the heavy chemotherapy drug tonight. I am nervous about this, but maybe it will be a walk on the beach. Tomorrow I will give the names of the drugs and timeline for the treatment, once I get better at typing on this new iPad (and get the spellings of the drugs).

At some point I will add entries about what has transpired over the past two weeks, but first I wanted to focus on how we're moving forward. Thank you to everyone who has expressed sympathy for the loss of Lily, concern for my health, and a desire to help our family. I apologize I haven't been very responsive. I will get there.