High maintenance and unpredictable. That’s the best way to describe me these days. I’m a far cry from the old, predictable, plain vanilla Jeff that my wife grew used to. These days, there is nothing predictable about me.
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| Photo by melalouise; https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode |
UNPREDICTABLE
Take eating, for instance. I used to be like Mikey –I could eat anything. I was very easy to please, which probably encouraged Christi to cook more. Now, the food that used to make my mouth water instead turns my stomach. I don’t have a good appetite, either. My 5-year old daughter probably eats more than me on a given day. I know I should just make myself eat, but sometimes it’s all I can do to get down a banana and yogurt.
Chemotherapy, graft-versus-host disease (GVHD), and magnesium supplements have waylaid my gastrointestinal system. Trips to the bathroom are followed by ten minutes on the couch praying for the pain to subside. I’ve even reverted to taking the occasional pain pill, something I’m loath to do. I can’t stray too far from home or work since I’m so unpredictable. Imodium has become my second best friend (Christi is still the first. Happy Anniversary this Sunday, sweetheart!).
Then there is the GVHD of my skin. My skin rash comes and goes and usually responds to topical creams. I have to spend an extra few minutes in the morning and night to apply them. But other than looking unsightly, it’s not too disruptive other than requiring me to avoid the sun.
Finally, the GVHD in my lungs seems to be getting marginally better. I can tell a difference when I take the inhalers. Climbing the stairs at home no longer makes me out of breath, unless I’m helping Christi carry Emmy’s new bed up to her room.
This is cancer. This is what happens between going to work and church and apart from the pages of Facebook. I’ve tried to be open and genuine from the start of this blog; this is my reality. I’m not writing about this gain pity or attention. Don’t feel sorry for me. Pray for my family and me, but don’t for a second pity us.
BATTLE FOR MY MARROW
These conditions are also the price I’m paying to get better. I received more results from my biopsy. The FLT3 mutation and minimal residual disease levels are holding steady and are very low. My blasts were only 1%, which means I’m still in remission.
But, unfortunately the ratio of my DNA to my donor’s DNA has gotten worse. 66% of the red blood cells in my marrow are from my DNA, while only 34% are from my donor. The white cells are still almost all from my donor, so this is good news. The risk is that my DNA is corrupted. While the FLT3 mutation is repressed mostly, the 6p mutation can still cause problems if allowed to proliferate.
To combat this, I have stopped steroids and have slowly started tapering tacrolimus (immunosuppressant), in hopes that my donor’s white cells grow and kill off my cells. The side effects are increased GVHD, as I’ve detailed above. Worst case is that cells from my DNA crowd out the donor cells, making the transplant unsuccessful and possibly requiring another one, extensive chemotherapy, or, well, you know.
So, my old nature is trying to come back. My DNA, corrupted and imperfect, hasn’t died and continues to cause problems. What I need is a stronger, uncorrupted hero to destroy my old nature, once and for all.
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| Photo by Rennett Stowe; https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/legalcode |
This isn’t true only the stem cells in my bone marrow, but also of the old nature in my heart. As I continue to get beat down on this journey, old tendencies to doubt and be cynical bubble to the surface. That’s not who I am anymore, and I don’t want to go back to my old nature.
And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can’t. (Romans 7:18 NLT)
Like my donor’s stem cells, I need someone to sweep in and destroy my old nature forever, once and for all. In either case, I certainly cannot do it myself. God is my deliverer, both medically and spiritually. Only He is capable of wiping every corrupted stem cell from my marrow and every sinful thought from my heart.
What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Romans 7:24,25 NLT)
thanks for sharing. praying, always
Thanks, Debbie.