Instead my Folger's Crystals has been replaced with a definite bone marrow biopsy tomorrow and the very strong possibility of a second round of chemo to follow, starting next week. Which in turn would mean another two or three weeks of solitary confinement in the Big House.
Junk. Junk. Junk. Junk. Junk. Junk. Junk. Junk. Junk. Junk.
What prompted this complete 180? Seems the pathologist took a look at my blood smear yesterday and was concerned about the higher than normal percentage of blast cells. This could be a strong indicator that the leukemia wasn't completely wiped out by the first round of chemo. They'll have a better indication by Monday whether that it true, but from the way my doc was talking, she seemed to think it was a strong possibility that I'd be up for round two of poison.
About this, I am less than thrilled. I guess knowing nothing going into the first time helped keep me in relatively good spirits. Even though my side effects were manageable, I don't relish going through another week of fevers. Plus, I am concerned about the effect all this poison's having on my internal organs and the possibility that my second go-round of side effects would be worse.
My dad tried to be optimistic and said that, if the leukemia wasn't cleared out, at least they caught it earlier rather than in a few weeks when things would have gotten worse. But right now I can only think about is jumping back on that carousel from Hell of constant IV hook-up, no showers for days, feeling like ass, Napalm mouthwash, and the thought that this is all a really bad omen of things to come in LeukemiaTown.
I can't help but be gripped by nasty foreboding. What if I have the weird, rare, hard-to-cure kind of leukemia? What if I have to do the whole bone marrow transplant deal? What if it doesn't work?
Good thing tonight's an awesome night of television with The Office, 30 Rock, and a brand spanking new Lost. Escapism is a wonderful distraction.
A last note: Thanks to reader and fellow Pajibian dammitjanet for sending me one of the inaugural Pajiba t-shirts. I'll be sending it home to be washed (My sensitive skin demands it.), and I'll proudly wear it as I release Zombie Warrior on her second mission.
Update: So all the prayers and good thoughts I've been soliciting came through. No biopsy today. Appears that the pathologist took a look at three days worth of blood smears and saw that the disconcerting cells from one day actually diminished in percentage each following day. This indicated that the mystery cells were more than likely not affliated with leukemia (otherwise they would have been increasing) and therefore no cause for alarm. I'm going to double check this with my doc, but I think she referred to them as reactionary leukocytes. As long as these percentages don't start climbing and stay at a high level, I should be fine.
So we've gone back a few squares and are now just watching my counts and waiting. I'm not out of the water yet, as the past few days have taught me. But at least I'm not getting poked today.
Get me off this ride; I think I'm going to be sick.