It has been a challenging couple of months to end this summer for me as far as energy, focus, and activity goes. Last Monday, I went to Duke oncology for my routine blood tests that track how active the leukemia cells are in my system. It has been 22 months since I began the new “miracle drug” that has shown a strong ability to control the disease in patients with my diagnosis for up to two years. ‘So far so good’ has been our motto.
After giving blood at 8 am, it was processed and available for the doctors to see by my 9 am appointment, as per usual. At this specific oncology center, the nurse comes in first to share with me my blood counts, then we chit chat until the doctor comes. But this past Monday, we made our usual chit chat, she was upbeat and positive, but she said she was unable to view my labs and numbers on her computer. That was unusual. She left the room and the Physicians Assistant came in and talked me up, asking me about my weekend, about how I was feeling recently and if I had been having any extra symptoms. About half way through this unusual interruption, an alarm went off in my mind. I heard ‘UT OH’ whispered in my spirit. Something wasn’t right.
Finally I asked, “How are my blood counts.” The PA put her head down, reached for the papers off to the side and said, “Well, they are down from last time.”
“OK”, I thought, as I continued to listen. I know that my counts fluctuate slightly from month to month. She then spread the sheets out and showed me my numbers and a graph of the trends. Although I have read over 30 of these charts, I am still not very well versed in quickly drawing a conclusion, but this time the numbers were obvious. My red blood cells AND my platelets were down significantly, which is not good news for a blood cancer patient. As my anxiety began to rise, I scanned the sheet, going back through all the months of my disease, through 2016, then 2015 and into the column that said 2014. But I still didn’t find the levels corresponding to that morning. Finally I spotted the numbers 113 and 11.3 and I ran my eyes across to find the date: September 2013.
Translation: my blood counts had dropped to the levels they were when I was first diagnosed. “UT OH” was right.
The oncologist came into the room and she was solemn and soft spoken. We talked about the numbers and she said we should get a bone marrow biopsy and a CT scan of my lymph nodes so we know exactly what we are dealing with before we make a plan. I agreed and spent the rest of the day at the hospital doing what needed to be done.
As I got home and shared the news with Kate, she teared up. She understands that cancer patients often have three strikes to use against the disease, meaning that they can experience three remissions; or said another way, three “re-occurrences” of the disease. Not many people get more than three comebacks because the disease is that tenacious. My wife and I both knew that this was my third re-occurrence. We knew that the wonder drug had a shelf life to fight the disease, and that when it stopped working we would need a new plan. We knew this day would come, but that does not mean we were prepared for it.
Ironically, it was just a few weeks ago that I penned a blog entitled THIRD DOWN. I referred to my current life station as a critical season, but not the do or die of a desperate 4th down situation, comparable to a football game. However, going to bed that Monday night, I was questioning what down it really was.
By the end of the week we had the bone marrow biopsy results that showed 40% involvement with leukemia cells, so we made a plan of attack. I was scheduled for ten hours of intravenous chemotherapy to administer a new drug meant to boost the final effectiveness of my current meds. These infusions would go on for a few months with the goal that my counts would stabilize again for a while longer. And when that combination becomes less effective, we would move to an entirely new medicine that has been recently approved specifically for my disease, CLL 17p.
“It’s still third down” I told Kate.
This season is full of mystery and unknowns, but I do know this: no matter what down it is for me and my family, we are not punting. We are not panicking. No, we are going for it with everything we have medically, spiritually and prayerfully. We appreciate any and all support you and your family can offer us from where ever you are. I will keep you posted on all progress and happenings.
And rest assured that no matter what happens from here, know that nothing will shake my faith in the Lord and His eternal promises for all of us.
Amen and AMEN.