Pardoned

Well, we were all set. Ready as we thought we could be. Mike was scheduled to be admitted to the hospital tomorrow morning, around 7:30 AM. They were going to put a port in his chest, by his collarbone, into which they'd administer the chemo and draw blood to spare his veins. Then, hours later at midnight, they'd begin the heavy chemo which would be given every four hours. Several days of this intense treatment would reduce his immune system to nothing, leaving him highly vulnerable to the most seemingly benign germs. He would feel weak and sick and develop painful mouth sores. December 10 would have been the day he was given stem cells from his anonymous donor, and he would be watched for any kind of reaction. From then on, the next few weeks would have consisted of constant monitoring to see if his body was accepting these new cells, and we would wait anxiously for his blood counts to rise enough to allow him to go home. All told, Mike would have spent the entire month of December in the hospital.
Several hours ago, Mike got a call from one of the doctors on his team. Mike's donor has an infection and will be on antibiotics for several weeks, which puts the transplant on hold until after the holidays. We don't quite know what to make of this news. It's a weird mix of happiness and trying to turn off the adrenaline rush of a prize fighter. We were ready to go, or so we thought. But, it looks like we're getting what we wanted most -- Mike will be home for Christmas. We're getting our wish, in a way that's different from what we expected, and we'll take it.
The doctors may want to give him a little more chemo in the interim, which bothers me a bit, but at least we get to enjoy the holidays as we normally would. Just before he got the call tonight, Mike was getting ready to pick me up at work so we could go buy a Christmas wreath for the front of the house. That was as much decorating as we were going to do -- no tree, no lights, no Christmas knick-knacks. Really, what would be the point? Mike wouldn't be here, and I'd only be home to sleep at night. Now, we will go shopping for a tree as well as a wreath.
I guess the cancer grinch can't steal our Christmas after all.