Celebrate?

Last summer, my 100-day biopsy provided the first indication that I was relapsing after my transplant, leading to a longer and and more difficult road to a second transplant. The second time through has been harder in many ways, physically and mentally, and that difference extends to the recovery.

One hundred days after my first transplant, I weighed around 190 and I was training for a 5K. I was working well over 50% time. My hair had come back.

One hundred days after my second transplant, I weighed less than 155 and I am not able to run at all. I am working less than 25%, and I can't open the dryer with my right (dominant) hand or jars with any hand. And my skin keeps falling off.

But...

Where it counts, I'm way ahead of where I was at this point the first time. Yesterday, I got the results of the 100-day bone marrow biopsy for my second transplant.

Out of 400 cells examined, none carried the deletion-7 genetic marker of my leukemia. 0%!
Out of another 400 cells, all were XX (and therefore from my female donor). 100%!

Perfect scores!

My blood counts continue to be very good as well, and I have started gaining weight since beginning prednisone a week ago. And while I still have some new rashes, the percentage of body in a rashy state is lower than it was a week ago.

This is all great news. In fact, it is the best news I could have received regarding my leukemia.

But...

I thought I would be in a more purely celebratory mood if I got this news. Instead, I'm happy, for now. I'm beating leukemia, for now. This is a big difference between rounds one and two. I've gone from thinking of leukemia as something you can beat to thinking of it as something you can beat, for now. 

If you're lucky, it stays beaten for long enough that if it comes back, the treatments have improved so much that beating it again has become routine and precise and effective and a lot less dangerous to the patient. And, eventually, something else kills you, years down the road. Victory!

In the meantime, I am celebrating, in my way. I live for now. I literally stop and smell the flowers. I don't care what passersby think of the bald man sticking his nose into every flowering tree and shrub he can find. When Jan and I take evening walks, I try to track down the various perfumes that waft our way. It's been a strange spring, with lots of blooming schedules pushed earlier and on top of each other, but it's been a great spring for a guy with a nose that's hungry to smell them all.