have you ever experienced a hurricane?
I remember so clearly trying to sleep as hurricane Ike blew through Houston. Winds ripping through the trees, terrified for hours that one would crash through the roof above. And then, silence. It was a beautiful reprieve. However, as I peered out the window to confirm that my rest was secure, I knew instantly it was not. Although all was still, the sky colored green, still spoke anger of the storm yet to come.
These past few days have been just that. A beautiful reprieve but slightly stained by the knowledge that the second half of the storm was coming. We played games, went for walks, celebrated Christmas and were able to sleep in our own bed! It was wonderful and restful.
But the storm came, with a vengeance. We got a call from our doctor on Wednesday with the results of Joe's most recent bone marrow results. The chemo was completely ineffective. We are devastated. No one, including the doctors, saw this coming.
We are now back at Duke having to start another full month in patient treatment. They start something called MEC chemo today. 3 different chemo drugs given once a day for 5 days in a row. Then we wait and ride out the side effects. The hope is that in 4 weeks time we have a clear bone marrow and then go right into transplant (if we're lucky getting a few days of rest outside of the hospital in between).
If im being honest, this is the first time in this whole process that I feel completely defeated. Joe said it best "it's like just crossing the finish line of a marathon and being told it didn't count. It was for nothing. AND you Have to go again, right now!" No choice, no rest, just go.
The really difficult pill to swallow is the potential risk vs reward. With every treatment the "success rate" goes down and the side effects are so scary. The last round had a 70% success rate and this one has about 40%. In the doctors words, this is still a "good chance" of reaching remission. If we ever needed your prayers, it's now. We are So disappointed and discouraged. It's hard to not view the last 6 weeks as useless. We need hope, encougment, peace and so much strength.
These past few days have been just that. A beautiful reprieve but slightly stained by the knowledge that the second half of the storm was coming. We played games, went for walks, celebrated Christmas and were able to sleep in our own bed! It was wonderful and restful.
But the storm came, with a vengeance. We got a call from our doctor on Wednesday with the results of Joe's most recent bone marrow results. The chemo was completely ineffective. We are devastated. No one, including the doctors, saw this coming.
We are now back at Duke having to start another full month in patient treatment. They start something called MEC chemo today. 3 different chemo drugs given once a day for 5 days in a row. Then we wait and ride out the side effects. The hope is that in 4 weeks time we have a clear bone marrow and then go right into transplant (if we're lucky getting a few days of rest outside of the hospital in between).
If im being honest, this is the first time in this whole process that I feel completely defeated. Joe said it best "it's like just crossing the finish line of a marathon and being told it didn't count. It was for nothing. AND you Have to go again, right now!" No choice, no rest, just go.
The really difficult pill to swallow is the potential risk vs reward. With every treatment the "success rate" goes down and the side effects are so scary. The last round had a 70% success rate and this one has about 40%. In the doctors words, this is still a "good chance" of reaching remission. If we ever needed your prayers, it's now. We are So disappointed and discouraged. It's hard to not view the last 6 weeks as useless. We need hope, encougment, peace and so much strength.
