A Break

Today, for the third time in a week, we caught a break with a biopsy. Mike's bone-marrow biopsy from Tuesday afternoon was clear of cancer.
The past couple days, and the past 24 hours in particular, have been torture. Slow death. We have waited out countless biopsies in recent years, but they never get any easier. And with so much riding on the current situation, this biopsy was absolutely critical. I knew when they decided to perform the biopsy on Tuesday that they were looking for only one thing -- leukemia. By all accounts, Mike's blood counts should have shown signs of recovery by this point since the current chemo ended on Sept. 4. Mike's primary oncologist didn't seem to be too worried about the sluggish recovery time, but the current attending oncologist on the floor, Dr. A, seemed very bothered by the prolonged nadir. I tried not to let my mind go there, but I knew that if the marrow had cancerous cells, and it was these cells that were preventing normal healthy cells from rejuvenating, Mike would be in serious trouble.
Last night at this time I knew we'd most likely have the results today, and my uneasiness was setting in. It didn't help matters that Mike had another fever overnight around 4AM. By around 9AM when the attending came for his morning rounds, there was no news. I breathed a little sigh of relief, but knew we were possibly just avoiding the inevitable. As the morning and early afternoon wore on, I just prayed and waited. Finally a little after 3PM, I saw the attending outside the door, talking with Mike's nurse. My heart sank. I knew there was only one reason he was paying us a second visit in one day. I tried to read his expressions, and I did notice he seemed to be smiling as he and the nurse talked -- of course, that didn't mean necessarily that they were talking about Mike.
Dr. A came in and Mike stirred from his nap. I just stared waiting for the verdict. I should note that Dr. A is by all accounts a very intelligent doctor, but he doesn't always seem at ease with patients. It's almost as if he has a social awkwardness about him, and I find him impossible to read or relate to. He proceeded to say, "So, we have the results of the bone-marrow biopsy. The marrow is 'empty.' We didn't find any leukemia cells." While he spoke straight-faced, I looked behind him at Mike's nurse who was grinning from ear to ear. Dr. A continued that even in the flow cytometry (where they measure the sample at the microscopic level), they didn't find any leukemia. It was music to my ears, and some tears began to fall from my eyes. Dr. A almost looked as if he didn't know how to react to that, and I could tell I wasn't going to draw much of a response from him, but I didn't care -- I heard what I'd been longing to hear for the past 48 hours.
Dr. A explained that while they didn't find leukemic cells, they didn't find any healthy cells either. So, the marrow hasn't begun producing anything yet -- hence the low blood counts and the almost daily need for transfusions. He said it might be another week or more before we see recovery begin. I know Mike wasn't happy about that part of it, but I know that extra time will be easier to handle now that we know the marrow is healthy and we're not left wondering what's going on inside the body. Dr. A also went on to say that if they had found leukemic cells in the marrow, it would not have been good (duh). He said if that were the case there wouldn't be much they could do, and that Mike probably wouldn't be in any condition to handle treatment at this time anyway. I really could have done without this "what if" scenario. We didn't need that image put into our heads -- we should just be rejoicing at what is!
As for the fevers, Mike is well covered on a variety of anti-biotics and anti-fungal medicines. Getting his immune system to repair and help out is key, and we hope that will happen in the coming week. As for right now, I think I might actually have half a chance at getting some sleep tonight.
Sweet dreams....