Today's regular Monday checkup was scheduled for 2:30, and we got there well ahead of time so that I could have my labs drawn enough in advance that some results would be ready by the time we met with my doctor. We were through with the lab and in the waiting room by 1:30.
I take advantage of the extra time to get in a walk, up and down the corridor. It's actually a scenic walk, with attractive architectural features, looking out over an airy atrium.
My mom inquires whether I could have my monthly inhalation treatment while waiting. A nurse goes into the back to check and comes back with a negative answer.
I finish walking at 2:20 and join my mom in the waiting room. It's clear my doctor is running late, based on how many times a nurse comes out to talk to people other than me about how there isn't a room ready yet.
Around 3:15, a nurse calls me in and takes my vitals.
The doctor comes in around 3:45. "Do you want some good news?" Always.
She hands me a sheet of paper with the results of the test for "deletions of 7q31 and loss of chromosome 7," which is the genetic marker of my leukemia. Out of 400 cells, zero cells had the marker.
"Do you want some more good news? Actually, it's all good news today."
The next sheet contains results for the XX/XY breakdown of cells in the marrow. Out of 400 cells, 399 were XX (donor cells from Mara). One lone male cell does not concern my doctor.
In addition to those pieces of good (great) news, my main counts are stable, my organs are functioning normally, and I'm slowly gaining weight.
All of which adds up to: I get to go home, somewhere I haven't been in more than four and a half months.
Then my doctor is surprised and annoyed to learn that I hadn't done my inhalation therapy (to fend off pneumonia) during my long wait to meet with her. Her recollection of her conversation with the nurse was that she emphatically stated I should take my therapy before my appointment, not after. Anyway, I have an anticlimactic post-appointment appointment with a mask hooked up to an oxygen tank and a small vial of vile liquid, and we don't leave the clinic until 5:00.
= = =
And now I am home! It's great to be here.
Hooray!!!
ReplyDeleteHi Joe!
ReplyDeleteCongratulation!
What GREAT news!
All the best.
Much love,
Neil
What wonderful, wonderful news!!
ReplyDeleteMary Ellen & Jack
(Kate's parents)
Congratulations, Joe and family! Enjoy it for all it's worth!
ReplyDeleteThere's no place like home.
ReplyDeleteThe Drackleys
On this Leap Day, my heart leapt a little at this wonderful news. So very happy for you and your family. Yay! Keep growing those donor cells!
ReplyDeleteSarah
Joe and Jan,
ReplyDeleteWith the NVM coming up this weekend, we've been SWAMPED and I fell behind in keeping up with your blog for February, though you've been with us always in thought and prayer. Even though my calendar is sitting right in front of me with Jan's 2/16 birthday marked off (along with six members of my family in the same week!), I never got her card to her (we'll make it up to you, Jannie...).
When Rich told me this afternoon that you were home, my heart leapt as Sarah's did on this Leap Day ~ literally. I'm on call at work, it's quiet (for now), I've logged on and am all caught up on February (happy belated birthday, too ~ isn't getting older GREAT?). I want you to know how emotional (joyful) all these wonderful entries have made me for the both of you and your family! Walking through your doorway at home must have been quite something. I can only imagine...
You're home, Joe. You're home. Surrounded by everything and everybody you love. It doesn't get any better than that. It is (and you are) a miracle. A gosh-darned miracle!
God bless and hugs to both of you.
Rhonda & Rich
Joe,
ReplyDeleteSo, so good to hear that you are home now. I couldn't be happier for you. I agree with you about doubting the existence of miracles, but for you, I'll make an exception! I'm sure that Jan and the boys are just thrilled to have you home.
And I'm sure I speak for my parents and Paula when I say that we are all overjoyed at your progress. Enjoy!
And again, Happy (albeit belated) birthday wishes to both you and Jan.
Love,
Mindy
I'm so thrilled for you and your family, Joe. You are such an inspiration! Congrats and thanks for keeping us all updated!
ReplyDeleteJulie
Woohoo, so happy to hear you're home! Wonderful news.
ReplyDeleteSusie Leyden
Wow Joe, miracle or no, your journey has been remarkable, heroic, and heart-warming. Great news. Welcome home!
ReplyDeleteJoe,
ReplyDeleteI finally had a chance to catch up on the last couple of weeks of your blog entries. Yesterday when I got my own good news I found myself in a sort of calm state of surprise and also had a hard time relaxing and not expecting some mitigating news. Just now, reading that you are finally home, more then a few tears filled my eyes. I am so happy to know that you are improving so remarkably and that you are now home. Congratulations!
Yippee. Congratulations on being home. There is no place like it. Happy Birthday to you and Jan.
ReplyDeleteIn most cases I'll take luck over skill. In your case the miracle is that you had both at the same time.
Continued good luck and warm thoughts are being sent your way.
Becky and Rhys
Hooray for Joe being home! We don't have to call it a miracle, just know you're many standard deviations above the norm! Great to hear about all those XX cells. Now that you are old, you might consider yourself a dinosaur. And for male dinosaurs, XX cells would be normal for males, since that is the case for their ancestors, the birds. Anyway, hooray for the new normal, being home!
ReplyDeletePeter W.
Joe!!! Awesome! SOO happy you are home! Just like Drackleys said "there's no place like home!"
ReplyDeleteDeborah & Stephen
Woohoo!!!
ReplyDeleteWelcome home, Joe! Good to read all the positive test results. That one lonely male cell has no chance against 399 angry dames. JTS
ReplyDelete