My name is Courtney. I am a cancer survivor.

Hello. My name is Courtney and I am a cancer survivor.

It has taken me along time for me to be able to make that statement. I have spent a lot of time trying to escape the 'world of cancer' and remove myself from it; only to discover that it was a permanent part of who I am. I am a survivor.

My silence has never been because of a lack of gratitude or appreciation for all of the love and support that I have received and have continued to receive. My silence has simply been silence. Always a reverence for life. Of course, mixed in with a generous amount of living life.

And that is what I have been doing my best to do this past year-- living, loving and learning.

I couldn't think of a better way to return to blogging than sharing this link with you:

http://pages.teamintraining.org/stx/txtri10/ccallanen

I hope that you will follow my brother, Chris' progress along with me. Thank you Chris for helping me find me way back to my blog. I am looking forward to sharing with you all my life (thank you Tracy for saving it!) and journey as a survivor.

Bone Marrow Biopsy Results

REMISSION!

Ashleigh, Blake and Bridget

If there where three people that I could have seen again from my long stay at Harris Methodist Fort Worth Hospital, it was two of the three pictured here. (Just kidding, Blake, I know you've been waiting a few weeks for me to post this picture. Sorry it has taken so long.) No really, I spent over a month on the Oncology 7th floor and 2/3 of my memories are very foggy (just ask Michael Jackson or Paula Abdul-- see post Feb. 11th). But always, my clearest, best memories are of Bridget, Ashleigh and Blake.

Bridget (pictured right) was there the day they rolled me in to the hospital room. I was scared (that's a understatement), confused and in tears, and she was the one who brought answers and comfort to me and my family. It seemed like 'no problem' was her motto. If it seemed like no one could get something or find out something (like 'where is that doctor?'), Bridget would say 'no problem'. If it wasn't right, she made it right. She got it done, found that doctor, answered the hard questions and still had time to make me laugh. Bridget was also there the day I left. I think she saw the uncertainty in my eyes and read my mind. She told me that I was ready.

Dignity is really the one thing you check at the front door when you're admitted into a hospital. As a patient you have to bare (and 'bare') everything to complete stangers. (Sometimes you'd think it was Mardi Gras the number of times I was asked to lift up my shirt.) Strangers, really, who see you at your phyically and emotionally lowest. Ashleigh made me feel like I still had my dignity. She was compassionate. Ashleigh saw me struggle as personal barriers and space continued to shrink. She always pushed them back out to my comfort zone. And if they had to be crossed for a test, procedure or something simple like help getting out of bed to use the restroom, Ashleigh always showed extrodinary kindness and understanding. A remarkable person.

Blake endured my drug induced antics and harassment, my never ending non-sense chattering and gossip, and bad jokes (not as in 'poor taste' like the one above, just bad as in 'not that funny'). I think I still mixed in a good amount of complaining. He still came in with a smile.

You would think after more than a month, I'd be ready to leave to that room. But truthfully, the idea was frightening. I wasn't going to see all the nurses and techs that took such good care of me everyday anymore. It was like leaving family. Thank you.

La Wonder

This is La Wonder. Not many of you have ever met her or maybe hear me talk about her. La Wonder was one of my favorite techs at the BMT Unit at Zale-Lipshy during my long stay there for my bone marrow transplant. I was able to see her this past week after a visit with Dr. V at the BMT clinic. Just by looking at her smile I know that I don't have to tell you the kind of person she is. She ALWAYS had that smile on when she came throughout the day to see me. But don't be too decieved by the dazzling smile and beautiful laughter that came with it. If I even remotely looked like I was sulking in bed she would NOT let me have a pity party. She would be at my bed pushing it up to a seated position and get me up and out. Sometimes like a drill sargent but filled with such compassion. And, boy, did she make me laugh hard. Although I think I kept her entertained when I was loaded up on narcotics... she would walk in and want to know if I had what she called those "margirita eyes" going on. She'd take one look at me and just laugh and know exactly what medication I was on.

One year later...

It’s hard to believe everything that’s transpired the past 12 months. A year ago today (Click to see how it began) I was given the worst news of my life, causing my world as I knew it to screech to a halt. This yearlong journey essentially began with three simple and brutally honest words, “You have leukemia.” Looking back, it’s the longest and by far the most difficult year of my life, and, yet, it’s been filled with countless blessings – an unusual and unexpected paradox. You wouldn’t think you could ever use the words ‘cancer’ and ‘blessing’ in the same sentence, yet I find myself doing that quite a bit.

And so, to commemorate this day, I made a visit to the transplant floor where I had spent so many days to begin this year. I would have liked to have gone back to Harris Methodist where I was admitted this time last year, but that was the other side of town from where we were. I have to admit, my heart skipped a beat walking through those doors, but quickly settled as I realized I could leave just as easily as I went in.It was really nice being able to visit with a few of the nurses that remain so close to my heart. Fortunately, they didn’t recognize me right away – adding 20 lbs and a head of hair will change anyone’s appearance.




We also made some really good friends today. Frank and Barbara Springer are at the hospital waiting for Barbara to recover from her Stem Cell Transplant. She’s 8 days removed from receiving the stem cells from her younger sister. She’s doing great and we pray that she recovers quickly and is able to go back home by the end of the week! You can see their progress at http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/barbraspringer. Please send love and prayers their way.

Today also marked the second day of the bone marrow transplant symposium that Todd and I were able to attend in Dallas. It was great as we were able to make new friends and relate to others who have been and are going through their own trials with cancer and life post transplant. I’ll share more about that later this week. Thanks to our wonderful friends for taking care of our children and helping to make this weekend truly special for us!!

I meant what I said.

I meant when I said that I had made the decision that I wasn’t going to continue re-living cancer. And I haven’t, not a single tear. But I have had to be reminded. Especially the past two months.

At the end of June, there was a spike in my white blood cell count—particularly in a group called eosinophils (there are like five different groups—this particular group is responsible for allergic reactions and such). At this time, since I wasn’t showing any symptoms of GVHD (only what Dr. V. called “sub-clinical” cGVHD), she chose to increase my Prograf level back up and to stop the tapering until the white cell count stabilized.

Unfortunately, less that a week later, symptoms of skin, mouth and GI cGVHD started appearing. Most of them down right annoying, like the skin on my hands and feet peeling. The bottoms of my feet felt like they were sun burned, that unpleasant and uncomfortable feeling of walking across hot sand. Yet, the ones that caused most distress where the ones that affected my mouth and esophagus. I know everyone reading this can relate to getting ‘pizza burn’ on the roof of your mouth when you take a big bite of way too hot pizza. Mouth GVHD is like that but affects the entire lining of the mouth, lips and throat. Very lame.

While this really is considered mild to moderate cGVHD , it still posses an increased risk of infection. So on top of new medications to help treat and alleviate symptoms, I was put on prophylactic antibiotics that unfortunately caused their own new problems.

Having proper balance is important for just about anything in our lives—like being able to stand and walk straight. Our bodies carry good and bad microbes and when in balance we feel pretty good. Something like antibiotics can help restore the balance but sometimes end up pushing the balance in a completely opposite direction. And this is exactly what happened to me.

While helping prevent infection during this period of the cGVHD the antibiotics happened to cause a new infection located in my intestinal tract. Because some bacteria are opportunistic, a group of ‘bad’ bacteria (that almost every one of us naturally carry and never cause problems except in cases where the immune system is weakened) got out of control. Becoming another distressing illness, that, by the way could only be treated by an antibiotic. I am I the only one who can see a pattern developing here? Ha-ha.

Like I have said, mostly annoying, some down right nuisances and others a bit distressful. But once Dr. V. figured out what was going on, she’ll have me feeling much better in no time at all. And I can say for the first time in the past eight weeks I am feeling better.

You see, this whole process is a very fine line that transplant doctors walk patients along. On one side, there is the cancer. The other, complications related to a transplant (GVHD, serious infections, etc).

So on one hand Dr. V. was not disappointed to see the increase of WBCs at this time especially since she has been gradually reducing the anti-rejection medication. It shows us that Tracy’s donor cells are behaving exactly the way they should! We always talk about Graft vs Host disease, but haven’t really mentioned what is called “graft vs leukemia” effect. This is ideally the big pay off for going through such a risky procedure. That the donor immunity fighting cells would recognize any leukemia cell as foreign and destroy them. This “graft vs leukemia” effect is what essentially offers a “cure” and not just “remission” from the disease. That’s my goal—cure. So, the cGVHD I can handle.

Sitting with me...

This is a picture that I have in my bedroom. It was a picture that Todd took of the two of us sitting together during my transplant. You can actually see her blood being transfused into my body.

I see it at different times during the day. It never fails to tug at my emotions - making me stop and ponder what my sister actually did for me. She literally saved my life. Truthfully, though, I really don't need a picture to remind me. Whenever I have my blood drawn or even a tiny paper cut, I'm reminded that the blood is hers. I now, and always will bleed Tracy's blood. Sure, my body produces it. But only because she gave me the seeds, or stem cells, to grow it.

I love you, Tracy.

First Movie

First movie at a movie theater since I was diagnosed in September 2007- Kung Fu Panda. We took all the kids. Crazy idea! So how was our outing with the kids? Awesome! We made it through the entire movie with relatively small amounts of wiggles from Aidan (the two year old). A miracle! Hilarious movie by the way. I loved hearing the kids giggle and laugh. After the movie was over they were all doing karate punches, kicks and jumps in the air. Hi-Yah! I was glad that they didn't try moves on each other.

Second Chances

Not too long ago, I was folding laundry on the couch in the living room when I looked up and saw myself in the mirror. In that moment I didn't see myself as someone who'd had cancer and I knew that I had been given a second chance.

It was reaffirming something that I already knew, but in a way that dispelled the sadness. I wasn't going to be angry that I’d had Leukemia or worry about the 'what ifs' or 'whys'.

I had cried at least once every single day since I was diagnosed. But that day I decided that I wasn’t going to shed a single tear over it again. I had already experienced the sorrow, fear and uncertainty of cancer. I wasn’t going to continue re-living it. I was going to live. Period.

6 Months Post-Transplant

I just celebrated my 6 month post-transplant milestone with a visit to the BMT clinic to see Dr. V. Good news: I didn't have to have a bone marrow biopsy-- just lots of blood work. (Well, that's more like awesome news for just for me.) Better news: Only 3 of the 8 medications I currently take are related to the transplant. I have had almost thirty different medications since transplant. Dr. V has been slowly taking me off the Prograf-- the anti-rejection medication. I am down by 80% now with no evidence of GVHD. Best news: DNA (STR) testing continues to show that greater that 95% of my blood cells are donor cells (Tracy's cells). The lab will never report 100%-- but this is basically saying just that. My old blood cells can no longer be detected. My bone marrow transplant continues to prove successful. A TRUE MIRACLE!

‘Believe’ from my nurse Julie

During induction therapy, in one on my hardest hours, I deeply struggled with side effects of the chemotherapy, with pain and discomfort. I had received any and all medications possible and needed to wait almost an hour before any new drugs could be tried. My night nurse, Julie, came and she stayed with me. An oncology nurse who I knew had a lot to do and had a lot of other patients. But she came to me and stayed.

I was sitting up in bed, unable to find comfort from the pain radiating throughout my body. I was completely exhausted, just crying, when she squatted down in front of me and took my hand. All I could see of her face were her eyes because she was wearing a mask. She locked her eyes with mine and told me that I could do it. She told me that she knew I was strong enough and that I could make it through this moment. She sat there with me the entire time, talking to me, comforting me, helping me focus on other things like my breathing and never loosing contact with my eyes because she believed in me. And because she believed in me I was able to believe in myself.

She left me for only a moment so she could receive the medication that would bring relief and sleep. She stayed to watch the medication take effect. She waited for my ‘drug induced’ grin and for me to fall off to a peaceful sleep.

I couldn't have made it through that difficult time without Julie's help. These kind of experiences with people like my families, my friends, the doctors, the nurses, and techs who continually showed such love and support, and the affirmation to 'believe' really have helped me to be a stronger person. Thank you.

“Oil Change”

I went to the local ‘quick car oil change’ place near our home last week. I went inside the lobby to wait. A few minutes later a woman came in and sat beside me. I smiled as she sat down.

A minute later she looks at me and asks “So did you get a bad hair cut or was it chemo?” Yeah, I know! Who asks that! I politely answered that it was chemotherapy and that I had leukemia.

She then went on to explain that her sister had cancer and had under gone chemotherapy and radiation treatment. She said that she was familiar with the “chemo hair.” So that explained her question but still who says that!

It was the first time that I had actually gone out without wearing a scarf! During our conversation, I discretely took a scarf out of my bag and put it on. Perhaps I am just not ready to show my new hair. (This picture was taken a few weeks before this incident. So my hair looks a bit longer.) I'd love to hear opinions- bad hair cut or chemo hair. I'll post the results!

“Why I’ve been so quite lately.”

I am sorry that I have been so quiet lately. To all my friends and family who have continued to support me and who have been part of this journey I feel that I should be completely honest with what my day to day recovery is like and how I am trying to navigate through the experience of cancer. It is now that, the part about ‘navigating’ through this, which in the recent weeks has caused me to feel overwhelmed, alone and incapable of expressing myself. So, I haven’t blogged.

I have been so blessed to share great news from my clinic visits with Dr. V. Truly my lab results have been almost perfect for months now. I have been blessed to have avoided any serious infections, problems with GVHD or significant problems with medications. I have remained in remission and my sister, Tracy’s, donor cells have engrafted perfectly. I love sharing my good news with all of you. I know that each day is a gift. It is one more day in remission and one more day closer to hearing the word “cured.”

But honestly, the recovery is incredibly slow: with constant fatigue, muscle weakness and pain that causes frustration and loneliness. All and any of these symptoms could be caused by medications, effects of the chemotherapy or emotional stress.

I find myself desperately trying to return to “normal.” What I want more than any thing is to regain control of my life. The moment I was told I had leukemia I was robbed of the life I knew. For so long I’ve been a bystander in my own life. When I’ve tried to “jump right in” I became very disappointed when it was so apparent that I wasn’t ready. I am trying to return to being a mother, which as many of you know, is an exhausting job. I find myself limited in ability and strength. I feel like I am in a constant battle with my body and so far my body wins almost every day. It is so frustrating.

Recently a friend asked me how I was doing. I thought for a moment and replied “I think I am in the ‘angry stage’.” She looked at me unsure what to make of my comment. I tried to explain that cancer is like experiencing a loss; like someone you loved is gone. And you grieve for that loss. Weird, right? I know I experienced similar feelings when I was diagnosed like ‘denial’ (this can’t be happening, I don’t have cancer) and then ‘acceptance’ (ok, let’s do this, I have faith that I will be healed). So, I think maybe I skipped the ‘anger stage’ and perhaps depression. I don’t know if that makes any sense… You would think that I would be the last person on the face of the earth to have these feelings. Yet feelings of frustrations, anger and guilt find their way into my day, my relationships and my tear ducts. And truthfully, I was caught off guard by these feelings and unsure of the ‘why now’.

I sit here in think “how in the world can I feel mad? I am in remission, Heavenly Father has blessed my life, answered my prayers and shown His endless love for me and my family.” Yet, I find myself mad that I got cancer, mad that my hair fell out, mad that I still don’t feel “great”, mad that I can’t be that mom that my children need, just plain mad. So, I don’t call my family, I don’t return friends calls and my mind is so filled with questions, thoughts and worries that I can’t sleep . How do you find your way out of that when you feel so tired and your body aches and you can’t muster the energy? Sometimes I can’t ever imagine feeling “normal” again.

Dr.V reassures me that this tiredness and muscles aches will improve as she reduces medication and she added “with time.” She tells me that my recovery is going well and not to consider these rough days a set back. The rough days will come and go she said. And then one day there won’t be rough days like this.

I have learned from other AML survivors that they also experienced similar feelings and had the same struggles. Knowing that my feelings are “normal” and finding comfort, encouragement and support has allowed me to be more open with family, friends and Dr. V. I have chosen to see a cancer therapist, whose experience has been with patients of blood cancers and those that have received transplants.

This is where I am. This was why I struggled so much to blog. This is where I will learn to be healed- physically and emotionally. I know that I do not do this alone. Thank you for the continued encouragement and prayers. This is where I find inspiration- through you.

Have you ever seen a Neostar?

I forgot that I had Todd take this picture of me with the newly removed Neostar. I am holding it so you can kind of see how it worked. Only the bottom part with the three tubes was visible. The rest of the tubing was tunnled through a vein to my heart. I still can't believe that was in my chest for over 3 months! Yes, it is clean! Yes, I disposed of it after we took the pictures. What a happy day for me to share (sorry it took so long--I had it taken out back in March!) But a very happy day!

Clinic Visits- April 17, 2008 and May 1, 2008

I have had two clinic visits since I last posted. A lot can change in just two visits!

Thursday, April 17, 2008

My friend, Michelle, accompanied me on Thursday, April 17. Michelle is a great friend (and I am so blessed so have so many of them) and she is always so practical and pragmatic that she won’t let me worry about the “what ifs”. (Thanks, Michelle)

I can’t tell you how much I enjoy having company with me during clinic visits. Well, first off, I probably shouldn’t be driving myself because certain medications “may effect” response times (the roads are safer without me behind the wheel). Second, while I’ve been getting great news at almost every visit since February, I still like having the comfort of having someone with me (it’s that one brain cell that runs around my head worrying about the “what ifs”). Third, and most importantly, I love spending time with my friends (many of whom I haven’t been able to visit with because of the crappy cancer thing).

Again, I was fortunate for only one stick for the blood draw. I think being warmer and drinking more water beforehand helps. We got back to an exam room pretty quickly. Maybe time just passed faster chatting with Michelle. Anyway, vitals were good and all my labs looked great. I really need to take a picture of Dr. V’s smile—it’s the best!

I always hate having to mention any unusual symptoms to her because it’s always an “Uh-oh” kind-of thing. Just the night before, I started having a sore throat. I really hate sore throats now because that was the one major symptom I had when I was diagnosed in September. A look with a flash light revealed that I had developed a case of oral thrush. Yeah, I know. Oral thrush (a type of yeast infection).

Three of our four kids developed thrush while nursing. It is not pleasant as a nursing mom either! The kids were always treated with this yucky yellow Nyastatin suspension like 4-5 times a day where I had to use a dropper to wash the insides of their cheeks. I always had to be treated with some topical antifungal medication too. It was always a huge pain to treat because if not 100% treated it just keeps coming back. I feel just plain awful for babies that get oral thrush. It really is unpleasant! Dr. V prescribed oral antifungal tablets, Clotrimazole, to take 5 times a day. The tablets had to dissolve slowly under the tongue (like over 30-40 minutes) and tasted weird.

We’ve probably mentioned before how my immune system isn’t fully functional. Much like an infant, I am susceptible to many common infections that can cause more serious complications. Fortunately, thrush isn’t life threatening but its appearance is a visible sign that I still don’t have a normal functioning immune system. The regime of chemotherapy for a bone marrow transplant had two specific jobs: to wipe out the bone marrow (the source of my cancer) and to destroy (erase) my immune system. The doctors only want to fight one battle: the DONOR cells attacking MY body. The second battle being MY body attacking the DONOR cells that will become the new (cancer free) blood source. Anyways, if you’d really like to learn about your immune system and how it works go to: http://www.howstuffworks.com/immune-system.htm. Sorry for getting side tracked and rambling on about that (but it explains why the recovery from an allogeneic transplant takes so long.) I have to “grow” a new immune system (and even get re-immunized later).

So, back my visit with Dr. V… Dr. V finished the visit with saying “see you in a month!” Whoa! A month?! Wow!

(Oh yeah, I forgot to mention I had a chest x-ray, too. Initial report is clear).

But, alas, a month’s wait was not meant to be. As I’ve mentioned before, I do not tolerate medications in the “–azole” family (anti-fungals). So, taking the fluconazole with the clotrimazole (for the oral thrush) really wiped me out. I really started feeling sick again with nausea. I also started having joint pain in my hands, knees and ankles. So back to the clinic I went.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

Todd was able to go with me to this visit. I have always hated long visits but the longer they end up being is just more time that we can spend together. (And, no, I don’t make up symptoms just so I can be with Todd—it’s just a bonus).

Anyway, labs revealed that I was slightly anemic again (caused by certain medications that suppress RBC production). No problems with the insurance company this time and I got a shot of Arenesp. Dr.V also said that my symptoms aren’t related to GVHD (chronic) which would be reflected in certain lab work and she just didn’t see it. We went through my list of medications and my complaints. She decided that any benefit from several medications that often cause these side effects weren’t worth it. The result is I no longer have to take Lipitor (high cholesterol), Norsvasc (hyper-tension), Clotrimazole (thrush—which had cleared up), Fluconazole (prophylactic anti-fungal and Prograf stabilizer) and Entocort (GI steroid). Whoa! The hope is that a lot of my crummy symptoms will subside and she’ll start weaning the Prograf dose. Right now, getting off the steroid and reducing the Prograf is really important.

I’ll be back in clinic in two weeks. Hopefully, with more good news!

I would like to introduce you to Denise Rhodes

I would like to introduce you to an amazing woman, Denise Rhodes. Up until two weeks ago, we were complete strangers. But in this brief time, Denise has shared with me her goal of raising money for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of North Texas so that one day we will find a cure to all blood cancers like Leukemia. She has asked if she might share my story with others and said that she would like to do the Triathlon in my honor. I am continously humbled by so many special people like Denise who dedicate their time and energy to create awareness and help others like myself continue to battle this nasty beast called cancer and win.

Here is an e-mail from Denise:

"I recently joined Team in Training—for those of you who do not know, this is program which benefits the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of North Texas. In this program I will raise money and train for the next five months in hopes of completing a Triathlon. Yes, for those of you falling out of your chairs right now—I did say a Triathlon!!!" http://thenationstriathlon.com/

"Once you have stopped giggling, I would like to tell you this is a huge challenge for me, especially the open water swimming part—but this is something I am committed to do. Having said that, I cannot do it alone—I need your help. I would like to invite you to help me raise money for this important cause. By donating or becoming a fundraiser, you can make a difference! You can use the secure link below to make your donation. From this link you can also learn more about L&LS and the Team in Training program. And if you are interested in a life challenge—you can even sing up to become a participant. "

"All donations are made in your name and will be paid directly to the organization. The website is secure, fast and easy to use."

http://www.active.com/donate/tntntx/DeniseRhodes

"Thank you in advance and please help me continue to raise funds by forwarding this link to as many people as you can and encouraging more people to donate!
I appreciate your support. Please check this link often as I will continue to update it with my training progress (or regress)."
Denise Rhodes
RELENTLESS for a Cure!
http://www.teamintraining.org/ntx/
www.lls.org/ntx


Please vistit her website and if you are interested in following her progress you can go to:

http://deniserhodes.spaces.live.com/

Thank you, Denise, you're an inspiration!

Day +117 "My 34th Birthday"

Monday, April 7, 2008 (late post)

You know as I have gotten older I don’t find myself thinking about my birthdays as much. I know a lot of us who are in our thirties and older probably feel the same way. Birthdays aren’t so much of a milestone anymore. It’s “before we were married” or “after this child was born” or “when we lived here”.

So I thought my 34th birthday would sneak on by. But I got cancer when I was 33 years old. And I found myself thinking a lot more about my 34th birthday. There were some really dark and difficult times when I was first diagnosed with an acute form of Leukemia.

Would I see my children grow-up, graduate from school, fall in love and get married? Would I even reach my 34th birthday that was just 6 ½ months from now? So at midnight when it was official, Todd sweetly wished me “Happy Birthday." And I cried. I sat there and cried. I had made it…

Todd sat with me and comforted me. He never doubted that I would miss my birthday or any other birthday, anniversary, graduation, or wedding. He told me he had taken today off so we could celebrate.

It was a wonderful (and tiring) day. The girls were off to school and Todd took Aidan to Melissa’s so we could shop for my birthday present. We went to one of my favorite stores, Target. I hadn’t been out in so long. I picked out a pair of storage ottomans that I had been wanting for the living room. Todd said that we needed to pick up Aidan around 12:15.

So we headed back to Melissa’s and as soon as we turned on her street I noticed a lot of familiar cars. “12:15, huh?” Pretty specific time… I knocked on the door and when Melissa opened it there was a big group of friends, shouting “Surprise!” I was completely shocked that I just didn’t start crying as I walked around the room hugging and greeting everyone. It was absolutely wonderful! We all chatted away the hour. So many beautiful smiling faces that I hadn’t been able to see in such a long time! After it was over I just wished I would have thought of taking pictures! (Thank you, Melissa, for being so sneaky.) I confided to Melissa and Michelle later that I would have been bought to tears if I hadn’t already used them all up last night.

After the girls got home from school we had an early dinner (3:45pm) over at Chili’s near our house. I think we’re pretty brave to head out with four kids especially when one of them is a two year old! It was a nice time and the kids were so well behaved. We finished off the day and ate cake and ice cream.

I don’t think I’ll ever let a birthday “sneak” on by again. I just may not admit to my true age!

Day +115 “Kylie’s Birthday Party”

Saturday, April 5, 2008 (another late post)

I would have to say that today was the best “milestone” yet. We finally celebrated Kylie’s 8th birthday. Kylie turned 8 last September. We had planned a “High School Musical” party for September 29th and sent the coolest CD invitations to some of her friends. We had bought all the party supplies (thanks, Mom!) and planned the activities in the beginning of September. I was almost as excited as she was! Unfortunately, the party was postponed due to cancer.

Kylie is one of the BEST kids. She easily accepted having to hold off on the party until I got better. And who could have ever imagined 6 months later we would be able to have her party. Artie, Todd’s mom, was here helping us out the past few weeks and was leaving later today - so all the more reason to have the party.

It was so awesome to see the girls having so much fun; singing and dancing to HSM on the karaoke machine (thanks Kelley and Jimmy!). See for yourself how much fun the girls had.

After all was said and done, Kylie thanked us and said, "It was the best party ever!!" So, even though it was a crappy reason to wait, it was well worth it.

Day +113 “Clinic Visit”

Thursday, April 3, 2008 (late post)

Today Melissa came to clinic with me (Thanks, Melissa). This was the fastest clinic visit I’ve ever had. We were in and out relatively quickly and home before noon. I think I’ll ask her to take me from now on. Sorry, Todd.

The phlebotomists weren’t all that thrilled to see me walk in. Emmit said “No way! I am not even gonna try!” So the other one did (sorry, can’t remember his name). It was only one stick today! Maybe next time Emmit will have more confidence!

Melissa and I hung out while waiting to be called back to the exam room. Like I said, we didn’t have to wait too long. Vitals all looked really good. Hopefully, I’ll be taken of the Norvasc (high blood pressure medication), although I’m pretty sure some medication I’m taking is actually causing the high blood pressure. Ugh! Medicines and their side effects!

Dr. V was thrilled with my labs today. All of my blood counts (WBC, RBC, platelets, ANC) were in range. And that’s a first since all this started! She also congratulated me again on the biopsy results and DNA tests. She asked how I was doing and I told her the same thing I tell her every visit – just plain tired most of the time and tired, achy and sore muscles the rest of the time. I also had been experiencing frequent nausea the past few weeks. Dr. V reassured me the fatigue and soreness will improve once she starts weaning me off a lot of the medications responsible for the symptoms. So she looked over my record and discovered my stomach problems and nausea started when she doubled my fluconazole dose. I have a pretty bad history with the –azole family (anti-fungal). She said that not only will I start feeling better, but, that by reducing the fluconazole, she is basically starting the reduction of the Prograf (anti-GVHD, immunosuppressant). And that’s good news! FYI: An anti-fungal medication like –azoles are used preventively (blood borne fungal infections are life threatening post-transplant), but also to regulate and maintain oral Prograf levels.

All in all, it was a short and very sweet visit. It is always nice hanging out with Melissa and having girl talk! My next one won’t be until April 17th. Let’s hope that one goes just as well!!

Day +111 DNA (STR) Test Results

April 1, 2008

Bone Marrow Engraftment Results: STR Analysis*

Results:
% Donor (Tracy): >95%
% Recipient (Courtney): Below Detection

*Short Tandem Repeats (STRs) are highly polymorphic DNA markers that are used to detect the engraftment of normal donor cells (Tracy’s cells) in the bone marrow transplant recipient (Me) post-transplant. DNA isolated from WBCs of the patient and donor is characterized with 10 polymorphic DNA markers prior to the bone marrow transplantation. The patterns are compared and one marker is selected to distinguish donor and patient as uniquely different from one another. This will be subsequently used to assess the status of donor cell engraftment. [Source: Molecular Diagnostic Laboratory]

Translation: Tracy’s cells have successfully engrafted and are producing all of my blood cells. Her cells are now my cells and are cancer free.

Tracy and I genetically speaking are “blood twins.” What flows in her veins now flows in mine. I cannot begin to count the number of times I have been brought to tears as I truly comprehend the gift of life that Tracy has given me. How can you possibly begin thank someone who has saved your life? I love you, Tracy.