Well, all the hopes and prayers and wishing and hoping were for naught. The Donor Lymphocyte Infusion had run it’s course and the Leukemia was running amok throughout my body. January saw weekly trips to the hospital for constant bloodwork and consultation about the next course of treatment. We needed to keep a close watch on how rapidly my white cell count was accelerating. The major issue with CML is that at any instant the disease can progress to what is a called a Blast Crisis. When this occurs, the bone marrow begins to turn out lymphocytes so fast that the immature cells are useless in fighting infection and begin to overwhelm the marrow. Coming back from this situation is rare and ultimately occurs in death. Dr. Dave knew this all too well and planned our next move.
The first week of February, we would return to repeat the DLI. Another full day of my brother Glenn having to go through Pheresis on the machine that would again have to harvest the white cancer free cells from his blood. Kind of rinse and repeat. After the cells were processed, I would be waiting in another room to receive the hopefully life saving infusion. Everything went as planned. It was old hat by now. I felt bad, as usual, for Glenn. It was really uncomfortable for the donor during the procedure and there was always some recuperation needed afterwards. Same for me. This was it though. If this DLI doesn’t work there will not be another. Back to the playbook. Back to the desperation that is fighting cancer and realizing that you might be losing your battle. It really fu@%#ks with your mind. This was a very difficult period for me. I could only try to keep my composure around my family and co-workers and battle on. DLI number two was in the books.
A week had passed since the Infusion and I felt pretty normal. No side effects were evident and my bloodwork results were trending positively. Dr. Dave was somewhat pleased with my first visit back. He was very positive as usual. He always was very positive. His job had to be so stressful. So many souls depending on his every move. The waiting room was always full of patients in various stages of distress. You could classify them by their appearance. You get the picture. The office staff were also very accommodating and compassionate. Their job wasn’t easy either. Dr. Dave gave hope to one and all. Until he couldn’t. For all of the patients he saved there were many he could not. The cycle of life. Here I was again. Depending on his every move, depending on his expertise and depending on him.
Weekly appointments would be my life now for the next two months. There wasn’t much to do but wait and hope for the best. Everything would play out in that time and we will see whether the second time is the charm or we’ll be back to the drawing board. I have to remain positive. Right?
Next up: March On