The preliminary results from my bone marrow biopsy show that I am in remission.
My blasts are at 2%.
It is difficult to put into words the gratitude I feel for that number. I started this journey with 76% circulating blasts. After my first round of treatment, approximately 25% remained. The goal was to get below 5%, and after everything my body has endured, it did it.
Two percent.
I am so unbelievably proud of my body.
This result means that I am now a candidate for a stem cell transplant. That transplant is my best chance at beating this cancer.
The next step is keeping me in remission while all the preparations for the transplant are completed, which can take anywhere from four to eight weeks. I am, of course, hoping for four. But there are necessary hurdles and pieces that must fall into place before the process can move forward safely.
My sister and brother are both being tested as potential donors. If either of them is a match, it could help expedite the transplant process. So we are hopeful that Sarah or Willson is my match and that we can move forward as quickly as possible.
While we wait, I will begin chemotherapy again to keep the leukemia in remission. Once it is time for the transplant, I will receive more chemotherapy to wipe out my existing bone marrow and prepare my body for the donor cells.
The transplant itself is oddly underwhelming. The cells are given through what looks like a blood transfusion. But what those cells represent is huge, it is a completely new beginning for my immune system and a chance for my body to fight this cancer in a way it cannot do on its own.
Because of the TP53 mutation, the risk of relapse remains high, and I will likely need maintenance chemotherapy for a very long time. Remission is a huge victory, but it is not the end of the fight.
For today, though, I am letting myself celebrate this. My body took everything that was thrown at it, and it got me here. Two percent. In remission. Eligible for transplant.
I am also incredibly grateful that Nafe came to Houston to be with me for some of these important appointments.
Early in this process, I recognized that I was not mentally or emotionally in a place where I could do all the medical research necessary to stay current on my diagnosis. I could not bear to read the statistics or the survival times. I needed to understand my disease and my options, but I also needed to protect my mind enough to keep moving forward.
So I asked a dear friend to take on that role for me, and Nafe immediately agreed.
She is one of the smartest people I know, and of course, she jumped into the research. She stays current on the clinical trials and treatment options I need to know about. During my appointments, she asks the questions that need to be asked, listens for the details I might miss, and makes sure we leave with the information we need. She has been irreplaceable throughout this process, and having her beside me for these appointments meant more than I can say.
I still need every prayer, every positive thought, and every bit of good energy as we move toward the next phase. There is a long road ahead, but this is the news we desperately needed. And I am so incredibly grateful.