As we navigated a very challenging holiday season between our second year at the new location and the tragedy that had occurred with Nonno, we moved into the new year…2004. Nonno was hanging in there with a brain injury that left him in need of constant medical care. After life saving surgery and many prayers, he was recovering slowly in a rehabilitation facility. Lori was making constant trips to NYC every weekend to help with his care as well as continuing her studies at school. With everything going on and taking care of the boys, our hands were full. Nevertheless, it was nothing short of a miracle that Nonno survived such a terrible fall. Literally.
A short time after Nonno’s fall, a neighbor that lived across the street, noticed that the tree at the end of Nonno’s driveway where he had fallen, had a very unusual image in it’s trunk. It was an image of the Virgin Mary… “Our Lady of Guadalupe”. A distinct pattern in the bark that evoked a huge outpouring of emotion by devout Catholics that came from far and wide to see it. I could never make this up! There were newspaper articles being written of Nonno’s story and the Miracle that may have befallen him because of the holy apparition in the young Maple tree by the curb. Pilgrimages were being made to the site and so many offers of candles, religious articles, photographs of people needing prayers, flowers and you name it being left at its base. Cars were parked two deep for weeks as the offerings continued to pile up. Crazy.
Meanwhile, another miracle of sorts was occurring. As Nonno continued his long road to what everyone was hoping would be a recovery, I was awaiting the results of my latest round of bloodwork. The usual PCR test that would show the amount or percentage of Leukemic cells in my marrow. Since my entry into the FDA drug trial for Gleevec, in 2000, the percentage of abnormal or cancerous cells had reduced ever so slowly. Every three months after the trial had ended, we repeated the process of drawing my blood and waited the ten days to two weeks it took for the results to come back. Around four years later, the elusive 5 log reduction in the amount of the abhorrent CML causing protein still eluded me. The call came about two weeks after my appointment, sometime in mid to late April. Dr. Dave gave me the good news. I was completely negative. No sign of Leukemia in my blood. Hallelujah! This was my miracle. Again.
I gathered myself. This was a very emotional moment for me. I needed to tell Lori right away and then tell my parents. A welcome respite at such a tough time. I dialed the phone to my parents home to tell them the good news and they each picked up the phone at the same time. “I’m cancer free”, I told them. They were so happy. We cried a bit and I let them know that Dr. Dave assured me that we could finally relax. The drug was working fabulously, across the board, with so many patients new and old. My mom noticed that I wasn’t very jubilant or overjoyed at the moment. My tone was not as excited as theirs, I guess, and she asked what the issue was. For her, after she was proclaimed cancer free with her bout with Colon Cancer, it was one of the happiest moments in her life. I was full of mixed emotions. I asked my mom, ” Do you remember how you felt when the doctor told you that you were cancer free”? “Amazing”, she said. ” Do you remember how you felt when they told you that it came back again”? Silence. My mom’s battle with Colon Cancer was fought and won without relapse. I was not so lucky. She said that she understood. When you are told that you have cancer, the news is devastating. When you are told that after lengthy, painful yet successful treatment, that you are cancer free, it is liberating. To be told that your cancer has then returned again is beyond devastating. The absolute worst. I would never be able to rest easy again.
The “Rock” is what I call it. An imaginary boulder held by a thread above my head. Just waiting for the next opportunity to drop and crush my world. For now, I’ll revel in the moment. I had been waiting so long to hear that magic word again…”Remission”. How glorious it is. Hopefully, for a while, a long while, I’ll remain in its good graces.
Next up: Giving Back