Monday, March 25, 2008 (late post)
What everybody has been waiting for the official bone marrow biopsy report:
Diagnosis:
BONE MARROW (ASPIRATE, CLOT, CORE BIOPSY, AND PERIPHERAL BLOOD):
- NORMOCELLULAR BONE MARROW WITH TRILINEAGE HEMATOPOIESIS.
- NO MORPHOLOGIC EVIDENCE OF ACUTE LEUKEMIA, SEE COMMENT.
COMMENT: Flow cytometric analysis on marrow aspirate provides no immunophenotypic evidence of a hematolymphoid malignancy.
Translation: NO cancer cells detected. I am still in REMISSION!
I can’t even being to describe the feelings I had as I read and re-read this report. I sat there and cried for a few minutes. First was a moment of disbelief. Then sheer happiness and gratitude. I felt this huge weight lifted from me, the weight of worry was gone. I was still in REMISSION. And next week we will receive the genetic testing (STR) that will confirm that Donor cells (Tracy’s cells) continue to produce healthy, cancer free cells and that Recipient cells (my cells) are no longer present.
I am so grateful for the love and support I have received during this time. So many of you, too many to many here, right now, have given me the encouragement to continue on and inspired me through your faith and hope.
I know each and every day that I have is such a precious gift and they are blessed by each of you. Thank you!
I love sharing such wonderful news. I will be visiting the clinic on Thursday and will have more to share then.
Courtney
taken 8/4/07
Courtney and her kids
taken 8/4/07
Showing posts with label bone marrow biopsy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bone marrow biopsy. Show all posts
Monday, March 31, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Day+99 “Bone Marrow Biopsy”
Clinic Visit- Thursday, March 20, 2008
You know that feeling you’d get in your stomach before an important exam or before a first date? Well, that is the exact feeling I had in my stomach today before my bone marrow biopsy but worse. I think it was made worse by the fact that I had to “fast” for the blood work. I think it felt worse because some where in the far reaches of my mind there is the thought that the cancer isn’t gone, that just one cancer cell is hiding somewhere… I hate how cancer can create doubt. But I’ve learned that cancer cannot take away hope, faith, love and courage. (And believe me it takes a little bit of courage to get up on the exam table to have a bone marrow biopsy.)
I think I’ve used the phrase “BEST YET” a number of times recently but I sure have to say that today’s biopsy was ‘best yet” (that’s if you could apply those words to having bone marrow aspirated from the hip.) Jay, the nurse, had the IV line in without any problems, gave me an extra dose of Ativan ahead of the procedure and gave me the full dose of Versed.
I still think I have a tolerance to Versed, the drug used for “conscious sedation”. Jay says that most patients float in and out of awareness, usually not remembering anything. For me the experience is usually being completely aware of what is going on, being able to feel everything and not being able to react to it. A strange and helpless feeling.
Like I’ve said before the Lidocaine injections are the worst. The numbing is done in several stages so that the area is numbed all the way down to the bone. Then the biopsy needle is inserted and forced through the bone to the marrow where they aspirate and take samples. This was my fifth biopsy and by far the best. Although I still felt the pain of the procedure and squeezed Todd’s hand very tightly, I was definitely more relaxed, more talkative and even joked around and I felt calm.
After the procedure was over, I was able to rest on the exam table until Dr.V came in with my lab work. She told us everything was looking good. She ordered another injection of Aranesp which I received before leaving. She revisited how my GI discomforts had improved from the previous visit. I told her they had improved especially one specific problem. But that I was still experiencing nausea. She said she will give the Entocort a little more time and if it doesn’t clear up all of the GI discomforts she’ll add a low dose of Prednisone.
Dr. V is the sweetest physician. She is so genuine. Dr. V’s staff: Laura, the PA, the nurses and techs are such special people. I am not just one of the successful transplants to them. They know that I am also a wife and a mother to four active children and I have a life that I want to catch up to. And they want me to catch up too.
Dr. V always goes over every detail of the reports, answers any questions straight forward. And when it's good news she always has a twinkle in her eyes, the prettiest smile and a joyful laugh. I feel so blessed to have been able to see that smile and hear that laugh for almost two months now. I’ll just be waiting for the "good news" signs until she gets the biopsy results in a few days.
You know that feeling you’d get in your stomach before an important exam or before a first date? Well, that is the exact feeling I had in my stomach today before my bone marrow biopsy but worse. I think it was made worse by the fact that I had to “fast” for the blood work. I think it felt worse because some where in the far reaches of my mind there is the thought that the cancer isn’t gone, that just one cancer cell is hiding somewhere… I hate how cancer can create doubt. But I’ve learned that cancer cannot take away hope, faith, love and courage. (And believe me it takes a little bit of courage to get up on the exam table to have a bone marrow biopsy.)
I think I’ve used the phrase “BEST YET” a number of times recently but I sure have to say that today’s biopsy was ‘best yet” (that’s if you could apply those words to having bone marrow aspirated from the hip.) Jay, the nurse, had the IV line in without any problems, gave me an extra dose of Ativan ahead of the procedure and gave me the full dose of Versed.
I still think I have a tolerance to Versed, the drug used for “conscious sedation”. Jay says that most patients float in and out of awareness, usually not remembering anything. For me the experience is usually being completely aware of what is going on, being able to feel everything and not being able to react to it. A strange and helpless feeling.
Like I’ve said before the Lidocaine injections are the worst. The numbing is done in several stages so that the area is numbed all the way down to the bone. Then the biopsy needle is inserted and forced through the bone to the marrow where they aspirate and take samples. This was my fifth biopsy and by far the best. Although I still felt the pain of the procedure and squeezed Todd’s hand very tightly, I was definitely more relaxed, more talkative and even joked around and I felt calm.
After the procedure was over, I was able to rest on the exam table until Dr.V came in with my lab work. She told us everything was looking good. She ordered another injection of Aranesp which I received before leaving. She revisited how my GI discomforts had improved from the previous visit. I told her they had improved especially one specific problem. But that I was still experiencing nausea. She said she will give the Entocort a little more time and if it doesn’t clear up all of the GI discomforts she’ll add a low dose of Prednisone.
Dr. V is the sweetest physician. She is so genuine. Dr. V’s staff: Laura, the PA, the nurses and techs are such special people. I am not just one of the successful transplants to them. They know that I am also a wife and a mother to four active children and I have a life that I want to catch up to. And they want me to catch up too.
Dr. V always goes over every detail of the reports, answers any questions straight forward. And when it's good news she always has a twinkle in her eyes, the prettiest smile and a joyful laugh. I feel so blessed to have been able to see that smile and hear that laugh for almost two months now. I’ll just be waiting for the "good news" signs until she gets the biopsy results in a few days.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Day +96 “10 years and counting”

St. Patrick’s Day, Monday, March 17, 2008- Post Transplant Tests (Late Post)
Not quite the way either of us imagined spending our 10 year anniversary. It was actually planned to include sun, sand, tropical waters and no kids. A trip to paradise on hold (for at least a little while.) Instead we spent the ENTIRE day sitting in doctor’s offices and waiting rooms.
But we were together and that is what I was truly grateful for. The long waits in the offices gave us time to reflect upon what a truly blessed life we have had together. A life blessed with four beautiful children who teach us more about unconditional love and forgiveness. A life filled with family and friends who teach us about charity and compassion. And, yes, a life that had to include Leukemia, long hospitals stays and a lot of waiting in waiting rooms, has been blessed. If you already didn’t know it, Todd is an amazing father, husband and friend. I think this blog site that he set up from the beginning shows many of the qualities that I saw in him the first time we met. I guess I’ll have to share our story another time. But for now I will say “I love you, Todd. You are my eternal companion.”
All of our waiting in waiting rooms for two tests, that together totaled 1 hour and 30 minutes, had us gone all day from 9-5. The good news from all the waiting is that the Pulmonary Function test and the MUGA (heart) test show from initial results that I passed. Yea me! In other words, my lung and heart functions were not damaged during the transplant procedure. Dr. V will have the finally results when I see her on Thursday—the BIG day—Bone Marrow Biopsy.
Please keep me in your prayers. Please pray that the procedure goes well and that no cancer cells are detected and that Tracy’s cells continue to be successful and that my blood cells are still no longer present. My testimony of prayer has only been strengthened by all of you: our families, friends, neighbors, community and many of whom were strangers and now have become friends.
I hope that 10 years from now you all are still keeping up with us and that the words always include “Cancer FREE!”
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