Krutzpack: Moving on after AML: Status Update and Some Thoughts

It's been raining in Missoula now for just about a week. I'm over it and ready for sunny, warm days, ice cream when it's actually hot outside, and a tan on my overly caucasian, some shade of blue, legs, but that's not supposed to happen for another week or so. Rain and more rain is forecasted, and my need for Americanos and gourmet pastries is ever increasing. I guess rain won't be such a bad thing later this week, as I'll be starting my 4th round of chemo on Thursday (in Missoula!), and who wants to be inside for basically a work day when it's beautiful outside? This time next week, I'll be 66% complete with chemo- over the half way hump.

I'm ready to get back on track with treatment and make it through this phase in my life. My blood counts began to recover nearly 30 days ago and my last round of chemo began 7 weeks ago. Not that it means too much, but I've had weekly blood draws since being home, and the morphology of my regenerating bone marrow looks normal and my counts actually recovered to where I wasn't anemic for the first time in several months. I also have a pretty legit helmet of hair (special shout out to my dad for the helmet hair gene!) growing once again on my head. I'm not sure if it'll fall out again once I start chemo again, but it was fun to see that it'll actually grow back at a much faster rate than I thought. All of these things give me a little bit of extra hope that I can make a full recovery after going through all 6 rounds of chemo.

On a separate note...

I've been thinking quite a bit lately about emotions with respect to having and living with cancer. When I was doing my induction round in Missoula, I had an interesting conversation with one of the hematologists who told me to be prepared for the emotions and reactions of family and friends, and that sometimes, it would be necessary to not only be strong for myself, but strong for others, as well. Of course, everyone wants to be as positive as possible, but sometimes, it just doesn't or can't happen, and I totally get that. I have off days, myself- quite a few of them to be honest. I don't know how many times God will rescue me from these situations, but the nice thing has been that just about the time that I think it's getting too hard, something happens to turn it all around, and I get a chance to start over with some positive thoughts.

It's kind of interesting to me that the saddest and happiest thoughts I experience are the same thing- it's visualizing future life events that I may or may not be here to experience. It's knowing that I may or may not do the things I always thought I'd do, see the places I always wanted to go, and be with those I'd experience each of these moments with. When I picture not being a part of these events, it makes me incredibly sad. At the same time, I have this feeling of this isn't my time to go, and when I live to be part of these events, I'll really experience the moment and be especially thankful that I'm even alive to be a part of them. The truth is, we all have moments that we may or may not be there to experience. It's just that having a disease such as leukemia, makes me hyper aware of these situations.

There are only so many days you can live in the moment. In theory, constantly living in the moment seems ideal to me, and maybe it's easier for some than others, but after searching for pieces of laundry around the house that are "potentially dirty" for the past 4 weeks just to pass some time during the day, I can tell you that, for me, it's not always possible.

However, in the words of Cookie Monster, "Today, me will live in the moment, unless it's unpleasant, in which case me will eat a cookie."

Here's to gearing up for chemo later this week and not eating any "unpleasant moment" cookies.