Thursday, August 16, 2012

BLASTED!


This is the second time we've named a blog post with the title "Blasted!"  The first time was July 2010, when Caleb was in the middle of hard chemo.  Now, we can say it again, but this time the medicine is done! We just learned the results today from Tuesday's bone marrow aspiration: there are no more blasts in Caleb's bone marrow!  Caleb is in remission!  Praise God for healing! 
Give thanks with us!

Thursday, August 9, 2012

We're Done!!!


This is Caleb, with one day left to go before last chemo!  What's awesome about this is that he gets it.  Caleb understands now that he will be done!  I remember early in treatment when Caleb asked me about what Isaac did when he had leukemia, and I realized that for Caleb, leukemia was so normal that every kid must have it at some point.  It was hard to explain to him that no, not everyone has this, and not every one will get it.  Somehow that made taking him into hospital for treatment that much more difficult for me, as he started to understand how he is different.  And it's strange how that makes one feel: like somehow I wish more kids had it so that it would be more normal, and at the same time shuddering that I would even think those kinds of thoughts.  I wouldn't wish this on anyone, absolutely.  But cancer does strange things to us, to our families, to our thoughts, to our spirits. 

We are celebrating.  We've just returned from a 9 day camping trip--our longest time away in 2 years.  We stubbornly stayed away over a Monday and a Tuesday, because Monday and Tuesdays have been clinic days.  We didn't have to be at Mac for those days at all this week!  And usually, after a return from any holiday, the next day meant an early rise trip to clinic.  No need for that this week!  Hurray! 

But, at the risk of sounding ungrateful or unthankful, I have to admit that it feels mostly surreal.  These next weeks will be adjusting to a new normal, and I can already feel myself beginning to process and re-process all that has happened in the last two  years.  Could that all have really happened?  Was that really us?  Caleb was that sick?  And we're really finished treatment?  It feels like the longest journey and the shortest ride all in one.  The grace of God will get us through this time, just as he has so far.

Caleb has a bone marrow aspiration scheduled for August 14th, the same test that he's had repeatedly throughout treatment, the same test that confirmed the diagnosis of ALL in the first place.  This is the first "off-treatment" bone marrow, and we will undoubtedly wait anxiously for the results.  We have waited this way every time, and this time will be that much more important.  Two years ago the heavy chemo kicked his body into remission, and these last two years of chemo have served to ensure that his body stays in remission.  Now, without the drugs in his system, they will test to see if Caleb's body stays cancer free without chemo.  Again, the grace of God will carry us through this time of waiting.

I asked Caleb if he feels any different now that chemo is done.  He didn't have much to say.  I'd have expected him to say that he feels less tired, or have more energy, or something like that.  In true 6 year old fashion, he responded that he feels like he didn't have to go to clinic on Monday or Tuesday.  Very practical.  I don't know if he'll notice the difference, but I'm certain we are beginning to see signs of him having more energy.  No more nausea on Mondays.  No more achy legs on steroids.  I wonder what else we'll see...




 With one of our nurses, receiving the last chemo.  The trick has been to try and keep Caleb so distracted that he doesn't notice the medicine, or taste it.  His taste buds, and gag reflex, are affected by the medicines moving through his circulatory system.  Here the nurse is telling us, very excitedly and animatedly about the drive from the 400 to Killbear Park, and how long the road is.  She did a great job.  He still felt nauseous, but no throw up!  Good finish!



Done.




Done!


No more chemo!!!