Not long ago I got the good news from my oncologist: The five cycles of cancer treatment I have undergone have pushed me into complete remission. That made me feel great until my next day with the transplant doctor whose care I will be under for the next few months, including my autologous stem cell transplant. “There’s still some disease in your blood,” she said pleasantly.
I considered body-slamming my other doctor.
Whom am I supposed to believe? Do they want to see my head explode, or watch me go on a maniacal rampage?
Remission is a tricky thing to define these days. Part of the reason treatment for cancer has gotten so much better in the past 10 years is that tests to detect the various strains of the disease are so sensitive. This makes early detection possible, but it also means late detection is possible. When you’re hunting for the remission decree, you’re less likely to get it because there are countless blood tests, and one of them is bound to turn up the tiniest shred of abnormality.
When I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, I was given very specific blood tests to measure the levels of cancer in my blood, things like the M-spike test and a test to measure the "light chains" in my blood. This in addition to the usual blood count and platelet tests.
Well, my light chains went normal a couple of months ago. And my blood counts have been fine since the beginning (my bone marrow actually "faked" being normal by working extra hard to produce additional white blood cells, if you can believe it). But the M-spike actually went up a bit (and by a bit I mean 0.003 percent) so the docs wouldn’t give me the satisfaction of telling my friends and family that I was in remission. Until last week.
Brief elation, quickly spoiled by a more cautious doctor.
I’ve decided to let the doctors worry and allow myself the joy of being in complete remission. I know it’s the doctor’s job to crunch numbers and count cells precisely. I know that it will take near perfection on the part of the medical community to come up with a cure for diseases like mine.
Until then, however, I’m perfectly happy to accept a decree of remission, plus or minus 0.003 percent.
Comments (3)
Do yourself a favor and smack both doctors up-side the head, hard! Tell them you don’t want to live by maybe and go back to the labs and give you the straight stuff, in other words, do their jobs. I lost my brother in 2004 to Hodgkin’s disease. They too said he was in remission in 2003 after his stem cell transplant. He passed on a year later due to complications from his second stem cell transplant. His donor, God Bless Him, rejection. I hope they mean what they say, and help you though this, all the way through. My promise to my brother was use this voice to pass laws to help people to get perfect stem cell matches no matter what part of the country they live, using what God Gave these Doctors and Researchers in knowledge to help people get well and stay that way. If they clone a cow for food, then why can’t we use the eggs they throw away at the fertility clinics after a year? Makes no sense, huh. Best to you, Wend.
Hang in there Jason. I’m going to believe that decree of remission as well. Good fight! Stay strong…
Jason, I certainly didn’t mean to undermine your remission. I hope and pray you stay healthy. It’s good that you write about yourself and your condition, it has people thinking and talking and getting involved. I feel such loss without that Brother of mine, still. It gets me stirred up, and begging for change. I am sick too, and have to see an oncologist on a regular basis. When you feel helpless, remember, you are a warrior! That’s how I think of my Brother and it helps me fight. Take care, Wend.