It’s 5 am and I’m sitting at the gate at Bush Intercontinental Airport in Houston. It’s way to early for my 7 am flight, but I tend to err on the side of caution when traveling. Thanks to checking in online, TSA Pre-check, and having only a carry-on bag, I was through security and in line at Starbucks within ten minutes of arriving at the airport. But this wait is the perfect time to write a blog post, latte by my side.
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| Photo by Don McCollough; http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ |
Tests and Doctors and Needles
I’m heading home from my most recent check-up at MD Anderson. It was a busy two days at the hospital. I saw three doctors, an ophthalmologist, and a survivorship counselor (it still feels good to say that word: “survivor…”). I also had a bone marrow biopsy, 25 tubes of blood drawn, a pulmonary function test, a nasal wash, and a chest x-ray. The last two were a result of a cough I’ve had for a few days. It turns out I have parainfluenza – basically a common cold. No additional treatment required, thankfully, since I’m already on antiviral medication.
I had the biopsy without “conscious sedation” this time (i.e. no Xanax and Versed). Only lidocaine, but lots of it. Two reasons: some dude punked me out in the waiting room last time. We were talking biopsies and I told him I was getting meds. “What? Does it bother you or something?” Then an older lady also talking to us said she wasn’t having meds either.
It was a one-two punch to my manhood that I probably needed. The other, real reason is that I am traveling alone with no escort to take responsibility for me afterward. Hey, the manhood thing only goes so far. In the end, the biopsy wasn’t too painful despite having to be stuck three times since my marrow kept clotting. I did have some M&Ms before the procedure; as my wife says, chocolate makes any situation better.
The preliminary results of the biopsy came yesterday afternoon: only 3% blasts (immature white blood cells). This means I’m still in remission!! Praise Jesus for the healing that comes through him! The more sensitive tests that tell us the amount of “minimal residual disease” and if I’m still FLT3 positive won’t be available for another week or so.
Another Step Closer to Healthy
This is great news. I admit that, although I believe God has healed me, I was a little anxious going into the appointment. How could you not be? When I heard “3%” I did feel a sense of relief, but also a sense of gratefulness. I’m grateful for the continued evidence of God fulfilling his promises in our lives. Gratefulness as I am reminded again of how far I’ve come, by His grace, as I see so many others in the hospital who are much sicker than I am. Gratefulness that I’ll hug my wife and daughters this afternoon with a renewed sense of hope.
All of my doctors expressed that I’m doing well. I’m doubling the dose of Sorafenib – the FLT3 inhibitor that helped me get into remission pre-transplant, but to which I had a reaction post-transplant. So far, I’ve fared well this time. I’ll also continue low-dosage chemotherapy to kill any remaining leukemia that is detected. Other than lowering my blood counts, it doesn’t bother me much. It might be impeding my hair re-growth, though. I’d sure like to have some full eyebrows. I look like a psychotic chipmunk with my upturned, partial eyebrows and steroid-swollen face.
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| Photo by Gilles Gonthier; http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ |
The gate is filling up for the next flight. It’s not mine, unless I want to go to Miami. As enticing as that sounds, I’m excited to get home to my three girls. I’m also excited and encouraged about what God continues to do in our lives. His mercies are boundless and He continues to fulfill His promises to us, not for our glory, but His.
For all of God’s promises have been fulfilled in Christ with a resounding “Yes!” And through Christ, our “Amen” (which means “Yes”) ascends to God for his glory. (2 Corinthians 1:20 NLT)