Strength Today

One of the things my doctor and I (and the wife) discussed at the last appointment was children. Apparently Gleevec has a tendency to tweak sperm which could lead to miscarriages and even birth defects. We'd both like to have another child in the future, so the only choice is to hit the fertility clinic, which I did today.

Overall the experience wasn't that bad. It was just like any other doctor's visit, until showtime. I was given a cup and pointed in the direction of a room slightly larger than a broom closet. It was actually a bathroom, but the TV threw me off a little. I'll skip the vivid details, but I can tell you one thing. There's no place like home! I struggled, but came out victorious.

The fertility clinic doctor wants me to come back 2 more times this week to "stock up". The next appointment is 7AM Thursday which will be excruciating. I can't even see at 7AM let alone "prosper". It will be quite a feat.

Saturday I will be fertility certified and ready to take my first Gleevec. I'm very excited! I don't know if it's a mental thing or what, but ever since the doctor told me about my spleen, my abdomen has felt pretty plump. I especially notice it after dinner when I assume "pole position" on the couch. No pain, just pressure. The Doc said the medication should bring the spleen back to normal size in a couple months.

The skies in Jacksonville today were awesome. I think every single cloud type was represented, including some bad ass storm clouds that poured down rain on the way back. I've never noticed the sky as much as I have since my diagnosis. It seems like every day I look up and see something beautiful. Maybe it's the time of year, but likely it's my new appreciation for life. It's too bad something like this has to happen to truly appreciate the planet we live on. Either way, it's great to be alive.

Posted by James at 7/31/2006 09:33:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

This article sounds very promising, except for the relapse part and the triple immune version of CML.

http://www.medicinenet.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=62513

Posted by James at 7/29/2006 06:46:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

My appointment with the doctor was supposed to be August 1, but some of the results had come in and she wanted to meet me earlier (July 27). An ultrasound on my abdomen confirmed that my spleen was in fact "huge". Actually the girl at the imaging center said my spleen was "biiiiiiiiiiiiiiig". Before all this happened, I never even noticed my spleen or that anything in my belly was wrong. I'm pretty lean these days and am sporting nearly a six pack, but after learning about the condition, it started making sense why my belly still bowed out a bit. I thought it was just how I was built.

It's hard to describe the feelings involved when your future, your life, your potential death will be revealed to you in a small doctor's office at 2PM on a Thursday. The roads and scenery you've witnessed hundreds of times seem almost fake. Everything moves slow. Nothing stands out. I never knew how cold hands could get or how empty a stomach could feel or just how important family is.

As we waited for the doctor, my stomach was going nuts, bodily functions battling it out for who would go first. Of course, baby Laina stole the show and really helped calm my nerves which were about to crack.

The doctor rolled in and hit me with the news... I had CML. She felt it was still in the chronic stage and that things were going to be OK. There would be no hospital. She was fantastic answering my questions and thoroughly explaining my situation. Although my spleen was "huge", she thought there was time for me to make arrangements with a sperm bank before going on Gleevec. Apparently, there have been cases of birth defects and miscarriages associated with the drug. We would like another child, so I'm awaiting my appointment set for Monday. It will certainly supply yet another colorful page in the book of James.

As I sit here now and as we walked out of the office Thursday, it's almost like I don't have cancer at all. I guess it's because I was in an emotional trench for the week previous. My condition is still serious. Heck, six years ago before the advent of Gleevec, I'd be in the hospital right now. I'd be getting chemo and/or radiation and looking for a bone marrow donor. Instead I'm sitting here in front of my computer feeling great, feeling positive, feeling blessed. God is giving me a chance, science is making it happen.

There is a small chance that Gleevec won't work for me, either because of intolerable side effects or it just plain don't work. The statistics say otherwise though with over 90% of patients responding. It truly is a wonder drug for those with CML and I am grateful as hell.

Posted by James at 7/29/2006 03:16:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

This MediQuick doctor hit me with heavy, heavy news, but a call the next day brought hope. It turns out, a hematologist took a look at my results. She felt that my results looked more typical of CML than AML. CML, although still serious, moves slower than AML. CML also happens to be a type of Leukemia where patients have benefitted hugely from a relatively new drug called Gleevec. CML and the potential to use Gleevec meant great things. No chemo, no bone marrow transplant, and best of all, no hospital!

But did I have CML? And what stage was I in? According to the doctor, my spleen was "huge" (another symptom of Leukemia). The only way to really find out was a bone marrow biopsy which was performed the morning of July 21 after four days of sitting and waiting.

The biopsy was not fun, but the pregame drugs were GREAT and I highly recommend. After three rapid fire shots in the left butt cheek, I was feeling fine. Even my assless gown didn't bother me. I just laid on my side in the lab room awake, but in this weird, dreamy state for about 45 minutes until the nurses stormed in. It was showtime.

I'll spare the gory details, but looking back, the procedure was not that bad. There was some pain, but the worst was not knowing how painful it would get. After about 25 minutes boring a hole in my lower back (actually hip) bone, they were done. I was "a bleeder", so it took longer than normal to get back into my street clothes. It was nice to be done and to see Wendy and Laina in the waiting room.

All I had to do now was wait for the biopsy results, which would pretty much define my future.

Posted by James at 7/21/2006 07:00:00 AM | Permalink | Comments

It's July 18, the day after I found out something was seriously wrong with my blood. I was ordered to go to a 2nd clinic for another CBC blood test to verify my condition. The nurse was real nice. She convinced me to stay positive and that the blood testing machines give false readings all the time. And even if the white counts were high, she claimed some people are just like that. She is like that. She made me feel good.

A couple hours later my phone rang. It was a doctor from MediQuick calling about my results. She confirmed that the tests were all correct, my white blood count was very high. My heart stopped when she asked me to come to the clinic to talk. She didn't want to discuss things over the phone and she wanted me to bring my wife. Talk about surreal.

Once face to face, the doctor hit me with the news and she didn't pull any punches. I had Leukemia. She felt it was a certain type called AML which moves very, very quick. According to her, I needed to prepare for at least 120 days in the hospital, chemo, confinement, and a bone marrow transplant. And I was to leave immediately.

There I was... 33, a healthy diet, physically fit, beautiful bride-to-be, and a 9 month old little girl that meant everything. We were getting married in 2 weeks!!! No, we were getting married immediately.

We left the doctor's office numb. A quick call to the courthouse eliminated the chance of getting married. They were closing. The only other option was to get married where I work, the City of Palm Coast City Hall. Needing only a notary, the City Clerk agreed to marry us on the spot! We didn't even have real rings. Wendy had an old ring of her mothers and my ring was something I picked up in Tijuana years ago... about 4 sizes to big for my puny ring finger.

Clare did a great job leading the ceremony while Wendy and I fought to hold back the tears. I knew when I got married that I would get choked up. Heck, I've cried at other people's weddings. My own was no different. Amazing how joy can penetrate such sorrow.

After updating the beneficiary info in my life insurance paperwork, we all headed home to wait for my phone to ring. It never did.

Posted by James at 7/18/2006 02:09:00 PM | Permalink | Comments

After noticing my ankles and feet were a little swollen, I decided to go to the walk-in clinic. I don't usually go to the doctor unless there is an organ hanging out of my body or I'm bleeding profusely, so this was a rare case for me.

After showing the nurse my ankles, we laughed a little. It was a young, male nurse with a sense of humor and a vocabulary that included "cankles". That's the hip term for fat ankles and I had 'em. It wasn't long before they were testing my blood and then testing my blood again. That's when things started getting serious.

It turned out, my white blood cell count was through the roof. The doctor didn't hesitate to mention Leukemia, but emphasized that there is a chance the machine is busted. He ordered me to go to another lab to get blood drawn once again just to make sure. The drive home seemed like slow motion. My world was upside down, but there was still a shred of hope.

What was I going to tell my soon-to-be wife and what about my little girl? My heart sinks just thinking about it.

Posted by James at 7/17/2006 04:54:00 PM | Permalink | Comments