I probably should have written this post a week ago, but I'm still trying to process the good results I received on my last bone marrow biopsy. I feel extremely thankful and grateful to God, family, friends, and the people I don't even know that sent the good juju and prayed for me throughout the past months.
This is the first week in the past nearly 8 months that I haven't had 1 or more doctor's appointments to attend, and I have to admit that even with all the relief the results brought to my life, I feel lost. I think this probably just goes with the territory and occurs with all of life's major changes, but rediscovering who I am and who I want to be feels overwhelming. I feel like I have a second chance at life and somehow I need to make the most of it. Previously easily made decisions have become slightly more difficult and sometimes I feel myself second guessing things, trying to ensure they turn out perfectly.
In the past few years, I've gone through some pretty major life changes...graduating college, moving around for work, getting married, having a baby, somehow surviving cancer. It's a lot- a whole lot.
In a week and a half I'll also be 31. This time last year, I was I was the 29 year old facing the big 3-0. Everyone who has turned 30 knows how that feels. It's sort of a monumental right of passage- like, you're legit, but people over a certain age still see you as being too young to have experienced official life events, and the college kid that you once were not too long ago sees you as old balls. Don't get me wrong, being 30 has it's perks, but the things I was once worried about with turning a new decade older seem so trivial and now it's like, I want to grow old. I wish for the laugh lines and wrinkles that come as each year passes (although they don't have to come too soon!).
I guess what I'm saying is that I feel grateful for this second chance, but overwhelmed that somehow I've escaped the cancer death for now. It's almost a constant feeling of "how did this happen to me and how have I been so fortunate?" I feel a need to do something to benefit the lives of others with this opportunity I've been given, and I'm hoping that the path ahead allows me to create something great for others while allowing me also feel a little more whole.
The first 4-6 months of being in remission are generally the riskiest time for leukemia to return. The past few months I prepared myself for this high risk time following treatment, however, it was great to find out that this time actually started when I was found to be remission in February. I unknowingly made it through the most stressful "will or won't it come back" feeling which is pretty awesome. From a time standpoint alone, the doctor said my risk of the leukemia returning is around 20%, and this chance decreases as more time passes. I'll go to Seattle for bone marrow biopsies every 3 months for the next year to monitor everything, and while I'm not so excited about going through the procedure 4 times a year, it's a good feeling to know that if anything changes, we'll be able to catch it quickly and there's a plan in place if anything happens.
This weekend, we're our van, Purple Haze, on her maiden voyage to Grand Teton National Park. Pictures and hopefully some exciting news to come in the next few weeks.
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Big Week Ahead
Three years ago, on this day, I was at the Odyssey restaurant in LA on the eve our wedding day, with several family and friends, a little nervous about the undertaking of responsibility that was to come the following day and also excited about the potential forever to come. If anyone would have asked me at the time where I expected to be 3 years later, I certainly wouldn't have said "living in Montana with the Krutzpack" let alone, "finishing up treatment for leukemia." While it isn't always rainbows and unicorns, I'm thankful for so many things that have happened in the last 3 years.
While vastly different, I feel there is one striking similarity between this date now and this date 3 years ago. Once again, I find myself on the eve of the potential forever. Tomorrow, we will head to Seattle for my bone marrow biopsy (on Thursday) that will reveal if the chemotherapy has worked and that no minimum residual disease is present (aka MRD negative), or if any leukemia cells are present, MRD positive. While I feel confident that the biopsy will come back without any MRD, I'm nervous. It's the beginning of what could be the rest of my life, and that's a pretty powerful feeling. However, unlike this date 3 years ago, I have no control over how I respond to treatment.
If no MRD is present, no further treatment will be necessary unless I relapse at a later date. If no MRD is present, that means I try to spend the next 5 years of my life trying to stay as healthy as possible, hoping and praying that the chemo corrected my body's ability to kill cancer cells that shouldn't be there. If the biopsy comes back MRD positive, well... that means I go into transplant mode. Either way, I plan to spend Labor Day weekend in Banff with the Krutzpack and Purple Haze, our hippie van, but I would be spending the following 100 days in Seattle undergoing total body radiation, conditioning chemotherapy, and a roughly month long hospital stay while the stem cells engraft.
It's a big deal either way the results present themselves. I'm trying to look at it as, either way, this chapter of my treatment is over. There won't be anymore 3 weeks on chemo/dealing with side effects, 2 weeks off feeling great, and then back to the grind again. After doing this cycle 5 times, it gets pretty old preparing to feel less than well every few weeks.
I got to thinking after writing the stuff above that someone might think I'm comparing marriage to cancer. I'm not. What I am saying is I feel that I'm on the brink of a forever life changing event.
So, here I am, on the eve of the trip to where a new chapter of my life begins. It's powerful medicine, but I feel like I'm in the right mindset and physical condition to handle the challenges ahead. I'll get the results on Friday afternoon. Fingers crossed for most excellent news.
While vastly different, I feel there is one striking similarity between this date now and this date 3 years ago. Once again, I find myself on the eve of the potential forever. Tomorrow, we will head to Seattle for my bone marrow biopsy (on Thursday) that will reveal if the chemotherapy has worked and that no minimum residual disease is present (aka MRD negative), or if any leukemia cells are present, MRD positive. While I feel confident that the biopsy will come back without any MRD, I'm nervous. It's the beginning of what could be the rest of my life, and that's a pretty powerful feeling. However, unlike this date 3 years ago, I have no control over how I respond to treatment.
If no MRD is present, no further treatment will be necessary unless I relapse at a later date. If no MRD is present, that means I try to spend the next 5 years of my life trying to stay as healthy as possible, hoping and praying that the chemo corrected my body's ability to kill cancer cells that shouldn't be there. If the biopsy comes back MRD positive, well... that means I go into transplant mode. Either way, I plan to spend Labor Day weekend in Banff with the Krutzpack and Purple Haze, our hippie van, but I would be spending the following 100 days in Seattle undergoing total body radiation, conditioning chemotherapy, and a roughly month long hospital stay while the stem cells engraft.
It's a big deal either way the results present themselves. I'm trying to look at it as, either way, this chapter of my treatment is over. There won't be anymore 3 weeks on chemo/dealing with side effects, 2 weeks off feeling great, and then back to the grind again. After doing this cycle 5 times, it gets pretty old preparing to feel less than well every few weeks.
I got to thinking after writing the stuff above that someone might think I'm comparing marriage to cancer. I'm not. What I am saying is I feel that I'm on the brink of a forever life changing event.
So, here I am, on the eve of the trip to where a new chapter of my life begins. It's powerful medicine, but I feel like I'm in the right mindset and physical condition to handle the challenges ahead. I'll get the results on Friday afternoon. Fingers crossed for most excellent news.
(Commence Krutzpack 3 Year Anniversary Photo Collage)
(the night the Rembot was born)
(first ever photo together)
(fishing on the Owens River, Bishop, CA)
(Observation Point in Zion NP)
(from the engagement photo session)
(tomorrow, 3 years ago, looking fancy as hell)
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