Those where the oncologist’s words. I just received a phone call from him with my PCR test results—a big fat “0” in the 10,000 cells that were analyzed. In other words, the results were resoundingly and unmistakably negative. I wish I had a photo of some fireworks, or something. This will have to do:
My cancer card has been revoked, and I happily hand it back to the universe.
My oncologist phoned us up on Wednesday to ask that I come to the clinic for another bone marrow biopsy. My platelet count had dropped (unexpectedly) which prompted him to schedule the biopsy sooner rather than wait 2 months for a follow-up. So, we went in yesterday (bright and earlier) to add a fourth scar to my lower back. I am getting the hang of these things, but I am very thankful for the availability of drugs like Ativan and Dilaudid (although, Virginia might argue differently, knowing that the stronger the dose, the cornier my jokes become, and they doubled my dose yesterday).
The test that they will use on this biopsy is something called a polymerase chain reaction (PCR). Even though the last biopsy showed molecular remission, it only analyzed 500 cells. From what I understand, this test allows for greater accuracy, and will determine to what extent the remission has occurred. The Mayo Clinic labs have a pretty good explanation of the test. My oncologist, in theory, will be able to determine the course of treatment based on the results of this test, if their indeed is a change. Analyzing the marrow this way can allow for early detection of relapse, which will mean quicker treatment. The results, unfortunately, take a week. So, we won’t know anything until Wednesday.
In the meantime, life goes on. I’m feeling better and better, the hole in my chest is healing nicely, and since our bikes are fixed up, we’ve already been out several times. And, what better way to illustrate a return to “normal” than by showing some scratchcrafty goodness…
…like, these Keefely Mittens that Virginia made (pattern by JoLene Treace):
…or, this apricot pie I baked for a friend’s birthday:
Normal is good. We like normal.
It is quite astounding how quickly one loses muscle and overall fitness in just a short while. My forced inactivity over the past 8 months has left me pretty flabby, short of breath and needing some serious muscle rebuilding. Bike riding seems to be a good way to start, and we have very good trails all around us (including the Gateway Trail which we can hop on three blocks from our house).
I am fortunate to have a good friend who (besides being a good friend) is knowledgeable in servicing bikes. So, after plying him with beer and pizza, had him show me some of the basics of fixing up our bikes (they had been sitting unused for over a year or more).
Virginia and I have two pretty basic mountain bikes, but we also had this dusty old bike sitting in the back of the garage. We took the opportunity to clean up this one as well. (It’s pretty safe to say that Virginia will most likely be abandoning the mountain bike for this beautiful vintage Dunelt 3-speed.) I’m a little jealous, but it was satisfying to be able to return this one to working order.
I rode for the first time yesterday, and it felt great. I was a bit jelly-legged and winded, but no pain, no gain, right? In some ways, the restoration of this old bike illustrates the transformation from an ill body to one that is back in working order. A little elbow grease, some fine tuning, a new set of tires, and wah-lah. I can’t wait until this transformation is complete.
Today I took another step away from cancer and towards being myself again. The hickman catheter, which has been the link between my body and my treatments for the past 5 months, was removed. All that remains is a small hole that will soon heal, leaving all but a small scar (one of the few that have been left in various parts of my body).
We’ve been anticipating this moment for awhile—it being the signal that no more treatments are anticipated. Granted, I’ll still have weekly labs for awhile, but there’s a huge difference between “monitoring” and “treating.” I think making this transition from “treated” to “monitored” requires much celebration (which we’ve been doing), and it also requires another photo of some flowers to show how happy I am.
As the closets begin to fill with more and more of our handknit stuff, some things have to go. Virginia is letting go of three fabulous vintage handknit sweaters (from Norway) that have hardly been worn. In fact, in the time that I’ve known her (closing in on 10 years), I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear any of these. They have been carefully stored (in a smoke-free and pet-free environment), are in close-to-new condition, and are for sale in our Etsy shop. Details are all there, including sizes and more photos.
Here is a just glimpse:
