Monday, July 28, 2008

My Prize - Complete Remission

I started this Treatment Marathon in November 2007. I finished the last of the medical tests July 2008. I have crossed the finish line exhausted, a bit beat-up in body and mind, but I am thrilled to say I won the prize I was after...more life. I am in Complete Remission!!!!

The final series of tests which included a bone marrow biopsy and CT scans indicated that with the medical criteria used for CLL, I am in Complete Remission. That doesn't mean cancer-free or cured, but it means the force and intensity of the leukemia symptoms and suffering I have endured will be gone. How long? I don't know, but hopefully years. What matters is today. And today, I am in Complete Remission!

In the meantime while I rejoice and pinch myself in disbelief, I have some recovering to do. My immune system was trashed by the chemotherapy. It did what it was supposed to do and killed the cancer cells, but it got a whole lot of healthy cells in the process. I have to be diligent about not getting infections which could make me dangerously ill. It may take anywhere from 6 months to a year for my immune system to recover. I still have to get immune boosting IV infusions to help fight infections until my immune system is restored. I will also have regular blood tests and check-ups with my oncologist to monitor my remission status. I will do my part in continuing to help my body to heal and be strong. And yes of course, there will be many more marathons (running, that is!) in my future.

As I write this last blog entry for hopefully what will be a long, long time, I want to thank everyone for your support and love. I survived and thrived because of your prayers, positive thoughts, hugs and warm embraces, meals, car shuttles, company while I was getting chemotherapy, emails of encouragement, phone calls to check-in, text messages to make me smile, firewood stacking, evites to events that I couldn't attend but made me feel good that I wasn't forgotten, runs with me when I could barely put one foot in front of the other, for caring enough to listen to my struggles with cancer and chemo, swimming my big dog Mocha for her arthritis therapy, funny emails to pick up my spirits, generous gifts, sharing your life stories so I wasn't abandoned to a world of cancer symptoms and chemotherapy side effects, and for being in my life because you are what makes my life worth living and fighting for. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

On to new adventures,
Wildwood Diva

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

It's Perfect

My oncologist called me today. "I have to talk with you about your Flow Cytometry". I was filled with dread, since I had just had an appointment with him yesterday and he had said it would take several days for the test results. I thought, surely, it couldn't be good news. "It's perfect", he said. "It's perfect". Timidly I asked, "What does that mean?" "It means you have zero cancer in your blood". I was shocked into silence. "It's perfect", he repeated, smiling into the phone. I asked a couple of questions about the bone marrow biopsy I have yet to do. He believes the blood test is more sensitive, but we need to do the bone marrow biopsy to be certain. I asked if I could be happy now about the news. He said that I could start jumping up and down. Again, to quell his disbelief as well as mine, he repeated, "There's zero cancer in your blood. It's perfect."

As I write this I am still in disbelief. I walked around in silence with myself for over an hour when I first got the news, trying to incorporate the hugeness of the test results. Seven years ago almost to the day - July 11, 2001, I was diagnosed with CLL. I have had this dragon breathing down my back, taking pieces of my life away and making me extremely ill the last few years. And now today, I am told that I have zero cancer in my blood. I've lived with knowing that I have an incurable cancer with no possibility of remission. However, today I'm beginning to believe I just won the lottery that matters; the lottery of getting a remission, the lottery of the gift of life. As I sit in silence with my thoughts and feelings still mulling things over, I think I will borrow my doctor's words to describe how I'm feeling about life right now, "It's perfect". And you know, it really is.