There was so much going on right now. Joey had finished his season in Sweden and come home for only one week then was off to play in the Federal Hockey League in Mentor, Ohio for the Mentor Icebreakers. Unfortunately, he broke his pinky finger in half on the tip during his second game and only lasted a few more weeks while he tried to play with a custom splint after they operated on it. Didn’t go so well. He came home in the end of March. And Nick, he was coming home from Los Angeles because he just couldn’t resist the Philly Real Estate market and wanted to make his mark. It would be great that for once the two of them would be home at the same time. Better yet, I could talk to them about my situation. It was about time. For a whole year, I kept them sheltered from the storm that was brewing inside of me. The last time that I went through my devastating relapse they were little boys. They had no idea of what was going on or the gravity of the situation. They were young men now.
I arrived at U of P hospital for my visit with Dr. Luger and after the usual thirty plus minute wait, was escorted into the lab to draw my blood. This visit was at the end of my third month taking the new drug Tasigna. Dr. Luger had lowered the maximum dosage by 200 mg to attempt to curtail the constant itching and burning that consumed me on a daily basis. She called it a “Quality of life” adjustment. Since the drug had made my white cell count decrease slowly, she felt that a lower dosage would help decrease the side effects. My appointment today would tell me if Tasigna was still doing its job…with less rash and discomfort. The fatigue was still a killer but nevertheless a necessary evil. Dr Luger met me with her usual grin, smirk and greeting. Followed by the barrage of questions to assess my current state of mind and body. In real time, she would watch the lab results come up on her computer screen. As we spoke, her eyes would glance at the screen while she refreshed her browser, patiently waiting for the next set of data and the direction we would head. Bingo!
Her smile said it all. A miraculous reduction in my counts! As Dr. Luger turned the computer screen towards me to see for myself, she started rattling off her assessment of what it all meant and the possibility of lowering the dosage even more in a few months. Now, this wasn’t a “You’re cured now” moment. It was a “Keep the Faith” moment. The astonishing results were something to behold though. I would return in a month to hopefully see an even greater response to this second miracle drug. My conversation with Nick and Joe would be much more uplifting and positive now. With excellent CBC results and a trend towards remission, I would still have to wait more time for the new PCR to return and solidify the assessment. Ok boys, welcome home, it’s time to talk.
Next Up: Bye Bye Country Club Drive