Have you ever been exhausted from receiving good news? Me either, until yesterday.
My day started at 5 am. I had an early appointment at the hospital and needed to catch the shuttle by seven. I’m not sleeping well, anyway, so with the promise of dark roast coffee and quiet time to read and pray, it wasn’t a real sacrifice to get up so early. And then there was the apprehension: my test results should all be back.
I saw the nurse practitioner a little before 11 am. She was mainly concerned with the skin rash I have from graft-versus-host disease (GVHD). It was the farthest thing from my mind. She was about to leave and hadn’t said a thing about the biopsy or lumbar puncture (LP) results, so I asked. She went to check the computer and returned a few moments later. I searched her face for any expression that might betray the news. Nothing.
But then it started happening. She told me there were no blasts in my marrow (this we knew from earlier in the week) and that there was no evident sign of residual disease. Yes!! A few of the more sensitive tests weren’t back yet. She followed with, “There’s nothing on the LP.” No results? It was over a week ago, so I clarified. By “nothing” she meant that that no leukemia cells were found in my spinal fluid; it was clear. Somewhere about there I started losing it.
I tried to maintain my composure since I had a photopheresis appointment in ten minutes. Fat chance. After a reassuring hug from her and my nurse, I headed upstairs, my hat and mask drawing attention away from my red, moist eyes. No sooner had my next appointment started when the nurse practitioner I just saw called me. More results were back: my marrow is 100% donor cells. None of my defective, leukemia-producing stem cells were detected. His mercy keeps coming.
I grabbed a cappuccino for the shuttle ride home in celebration of the good news. But, God wasn’t done. The biggest remaining puzzle piece of the bone marrow tests was the presence of the genetic mutation, FLT3, which was the main cause of the leukemia. After a few sips of cappuccino I received an email from my transplant doctor entitled “good news!” I was expecting her to tell me what I already knew. Instead, the first line read, “your bone marrow is negative for FLT3…”
Overwhelmed. By grace. At that point it was only the shuttle driver and me. I had to tell someone. She’s a sweet lady who’s always singing along to the local Christian music station. I thanked her for the encouraging music and shared my good news. I know we can’t cajole God into doing our bidding, but I’ve been praying for a while that if He will heal me, then I’ll tell the world. Figured I would start with the shuttle driver.
This is probably the best news we could have heard apart from “Uh, sorry, we had the wrong Jeff Cole.” From a medical standpoint, we are still very early in the treatment process. I’ll have another bone marrow biopsy about a hundred days post-transplant, which will be in early May. But this is a huge gate to pass through. It feels as though chains have been lifted. I suddenly am able to think of the future more freely. Putting on my uniform for my first day back to work. Celebrating another anniversary with my bride. Walking my daughters down the aisle (a long, long time from now and he’d better have a job before he even thinks about….sorry).
I have experienced a torrent of different emotions since yesterday morning. Thankfulness tops the list. I’m humbled and awed by God’s mercy and at the same time ashamed by my doubt. I feel on top of the world but yet am still very aware of my present circumstances. In the middle of my joy I acknowledge that others are still hurting. No guilt though, just gratefulness.
Our celebration yesterday was tempered somewhat by the passing of Christi’s great aunt, Daisy Coffey. She was truly a saint of God and a charter member of New Haven Missionary Baptist Church in Cincinnati, Ohio, which she helped plant in the 1950s and now has a thriving congregation. I only hope that I can leave half the legacy that she has. I imagine our rejoicing yesterday paled in comparison to hers when she heard, “Well done, good and faithful one.”
So where do we go from here? My recovery is still tenuous this soon after the transplant and the GVHD requires frequent attention. No doctor would say I’m “cured” yet; Jesus might say differently. Or He might not. My immune system remains compromised, so I continue to be at risk for infections. We expect to remain in Texas through mid-May. There will be more bone marrow biopsies to endure, more waiting for results. God has proven himself faithful time and again. This would be just as true if yesterday had been the complete opposite. But, for reasons only He knows, our Father has overwhelmed us with mercy and goodness. We’ve tried to praise him in the storms. Today we praise Him in the sun.
I can’t begin to share how happy this news makes me. May God continue to bless you and Christi and the girls.
Thanks, Joe.
Praise God for his healing power and mercy and grace. I was so blessed to read your post, I couldn’t read it for the tears were falling. So over joyed. Prayin that God will continue to heal you and watch over your family.
Thanks! He is worthy of all praise.
Every time I read one of your blog posts, I think, “This one’s my favorite.” Then I read another and it becomes my favorite. So, after reading this one, I have a new favorite. Except I do have to say, what a silly nurse! She should have given you the news accompanied by balloons, confetti, and a dance party. If only she knew how happy this news would be to you and to all of us!
Thanks, Anne. I don’t think she expected my reaction, for sure. Of course, neither did I. 🙂
As my own faith continues to grow and expand despite being in its infancy, your faith throughout this process has been nothing short of inspiring. It has helped to solidify my love and confidence in our savior. I provide updates to our church congregation and they too are so pleased in your results and unaltered spirit. I continue to pray for you and your family. I have loved you as a friend for years and now I get to happily say I love you as my spiritual brother. Continue to praise God’s mercy my friend! (Mike Brindle)
Thanks, Mike.. I really appreciate that. Anything good coming out of this is a result of what He is doing. I am humbled that He has decided, for reasons that He only knows, to use this situation for good. All glory goes to the Father. I haven’t done much except listen to the doctors, accept infusions, try not to freak out, and trust Him a much as I can. Thank you for this encouragement.
Sir, I pray often on your healing and recovery. Gods grace is amazing and only he knows the path he has decided for each of us. We look forward to your return to work. Brian Neal
Thanks Brian. Still praying for you too.