Day 28

Monday, July 2, 2012

One of the most reassuring parts of this process has been the success stories we have heard from our friends and relatives.  It seems everyone has a contact who was cured of childhood Leukemia.  In fact, I grew up with a boy (my first crush) who was diagnosed with Leukemia in the 6th grade, and today is a healthy, happy, athletic, super smart doc.  So many people have offered to talk to me or connect me with their friends, and while I've been inspired by the triumphs, I have also been content just working through this with my husband and family.

But soon after Ari's diagnosis, I heard of a little boy named Sam who was also newly diagnosed with Leukemia.  He lives in Chicago, is the son of two rabbis, and the brother of two little guys and one little girl.  I've never met Sam, never heard of his family, and never even been to Chicago.  But we have tons of friends in common and I feel closer to his mom than to almost anyone else in the world right now.  I read her blog multiple times a day ( and I think about little Sam every day.  (I'm sure this is totally creepy, but oh well.)  I leave her comments on the blog and send her the occasional tweet.  And as I read her daily reports, I feel like she's in the hospital room next door to me.  I know what she's going through and she understands what I'm experiencing.  She and I are a team, fighting together, and encouraging our boys to fight.  If she were here, I would hug her (and those of you who know me well know I'm not of the huggers) and let her hug me.  And I just know her little guy will be okay. 

Today, Ari received a package from Sam's mom.  It was the coolest thing ever - a box full of clown noses!  I had read a post on her blog about the noses and made a mental note to order some but forgot.  Thanks so much!!  What a great way to make everyone smile...

And it feels wonderful to be clowning around! 

Today marks 4 weeks in the hospital, 4 weeks of steroids and medications, 4 weeks of blood counts and rounds and daily reports. I've heard good news and watched the numbers steadily decrease. I've been convinced Ari would be in remission after these 4 weeks, and we would make our way through the following two years and then Ari would be cured.

But today is the first day I'm really scared. Today his blood counts weren't on the up and up. Today the doctors didn't give us reassuring smiles. Today we had more questions than answers. Today feels different than every other day.

And tomorrow morning is the bone marrow biopsy. Tomorrow we either hear great news or dreaded results. Tomorrow we learn whether the medication has worked or if we start with plan B. Tomorrow we are either on our way to remission. Or not.

There are, as always, explanations for the blood counts, and many medical and logical reasons to remain encouraged.  They say Ari's bacterial infection could cause his new healthy cells to try to fight which makes them appear at a lower number, and the large amount of chemo administered finally caught up with him, and that every kid recovers at their own pace.  The doctors tell us this is all still common and not to be discouraged.  Though scared, I remain hopeful and optimistic and convinced his marrow will be clean (or most likely inconclusive, but not full of cancer).  And want to know the thing that makes me the most convinced that he is a healthy, thriving almost-two-year-old who is going to be listed among all of the names of those other Leukemia survivors?  This:

Thanks in advance for your good thoughts tomorrow!


Rebecca F July 3, 2012 at 8:35 AM  

Here from Phyllis' blog. (((Hugs))) to you and yours.

Stephanie Fink July 3, 2012 at 10:40 AM  

Clicked over from Phyllis' blog. Sending you prayers for conclusively good BM biopsy results. The waiting is excruciating.

Post a Comment

  © Blogger template The Professional Template II by 2009

Back to TOP