Last time I had a mammogram, in 2008, I was sent to Women's & Infant's Hospital for special diagnostic imaging. The result? Minute calcifications in the left breast. It was probably nothing, but just to be safe they scheduled me for a follow-up in May 2009.
In May 2009, I was working on my third relapse. Getting a mammogram was the last thing on my mind. My doctor called me to encourage me to go, but I explained that beating leukemia was my first priority. I figured I was getting enough toxins and radiation to hold off breast cancer.
When I read an article that Martina Naritalova recently had cancerous calcifications removed from her breast, I called to make an appointment for my follow-up. Except that Martina had been a guest at my house for a Marathon brunch, I never would have clicked on the article. Isn't it funny how we connect the dots of our world?
Today was my appointment and I'm pleased to say they saw nothing to worry about. The technician apologized for the discomfort she put me through, but I assured her that I wasn't bothered by it at all. How can I complain about a little breast wrenching after what I've been through.
Martina and I are cancer-free.
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Adirondack Mountains, Feb. 2007
Tale of a Cord Blood Transplantee Who Relapses and Goes on to Have a Matched Unrelated-Donor Transplant
The Weight
Adirondack Mountains, Feb. 2007
ABOUT ME
In March 2006, I was diagnosed with a blood cancer called Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML). Life as I knew it came to a crashing halt. After enduring a month in the hospital where I received intense chemotherapy, I was declared "in remission." I had three additional treatments and remained cancer-free until May 2007, when I relapsed.
My only shot at survival was to have a stem cell transplant. However, my brothers' immune markers didn't match mine, and an international search of bone marrow registries found no perfect matches. A transplant using the blood from two umbilical cords was recommended. I grasped at this straw in September 2007. It seemed to work.
This blog tells the story of my transplant and recovery, replete with outrageous slings and arrows. The expression "blood is thicker than water" has new meaning for me. I remained alive due to the blood of strangers, two of them, both male. Thanks guys.
The plot thickened when I relapsed 19 months into my new remission and had to go through the same rigamarole once more. This time, I received stem cells from a matched adult donor who was identified last go round but didn't fit into the necessary time frame. Charles Dickens could have fun with this, the stuff of pulp fiction.
I remain in remission 4 years later. My donor keeps leukemic cells in check but finds interesting ways to attack my body. Chronic graft versus host disease keeps me firmly entrenched in the medical world. And so it goes.
My only shot at survival was to have a stem cell transplant. However, my brothers' immune markers didn't match mine, and an international search of bone marrow registries found no perfect matches. A transplant using the blood from two umbilical cords was recommended. I grasped at this straw in September 2007. It seemed to work.
This blog tells the story of my transplant and recovery, replete with outrageous slings and arrows. The expression "blood is thicker than water" has new meaning for me. I remained alive due to the blood of strangers, two of them, both male. Thanks guys.
The plot thickened when I relapsed 19 months into my new remission and had to go through the same rigamarole once more. This time, I received stem cells from a matched adult donor who was identified last go round but didn't fit into the necessary time frame. Charles Dickens could have fun with this, the stuff of pulp fiction.
I remain in remission 4 years later. My donor keeps leukemic cells in check but finds interesting ways to attack my body. Chronic graft versus host disease keeps me firmly entrenched in the medical world. And so it goes.
3 comments:
Happy to hear it!
Good news, good story.
Yea, for both of you!
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