Preparation for our road trip to Salt Lake began with two transfusions on Tuesday. While Roger sat through that, I ran the necessary errands, filled the prescriptions, made sandwiches and packed the car. We got on the road late: 3pm and drove as far as we could safely. Wednesday morning we drove the rest of the way into Salt Lake and made it just in time for an appointment with the transplant team at LDS hospital. After the dramatic build-up and such effort to get there, we were expecting news, a miracle, a plan, something to make us feel like it had all been worthwhile. Instead, we were greeted with cold and disheartening statistics and a list of "options" that were really not options at all. We didn't need to drive all that way to be told that AML Leukemia that has come back 3 times is "bad." After fighting this disease for six years, we already know how bad this is. We didn't need to be told the survival rates on patients receiving T-cell Infusion Therapy for recurrence of leukemia after transplant are not encouraging. We did not need to hear that statistics don't support a second transplant as a viable option. It was upsetting to be met at the door with statistics and apologies.
We spent two full days going to appointments, weeping, talking about final wishes, making worst-case scenario plans and wandering in a fog. We drove home on Friday and got to Doctor Nichol's office in Missoula just in time for another transfusion. We spent the nine hour drive home talking and processing the information. By the time we got back to Missoula, we were pissed. Where was Roger in all of this? Statistics on the treatment of AML leukemia, gathered over many years, including patients of all age ranges, in all stages of health and ill-health have little bearing on how one individual guy, one tough individual guy in good health (except for having leukemia) is going to respond to a particular treatment.
Screw the statistics. We're doing this.
One good thing came out of this trip. The stage has been set for the next stage of treatment. The results of the skin biopsy to tell us if Roger has a little case of graft-vs-host disease should be in early next week, although it already seems clear there is little or none. Once that’s completed, the treatment will begin with all due haste. He'll be given his brother's donated cells that were frozen a year ago and his progress will be monitored by the transplant team in SLC every 30 days.
We’re doing this, and we have every intention of doing it well. Add that to your statistics, scientists!
Oh, for crying out loud. You shouldn't have to drive 1,000 miles just to hear a bunch of white coats give you some depressing statistics that may not even apply. You can do that on the Internet any old day from the comfort of home.
ReplyDeleteKeep that great attitude and keep fighting! Candi, put on a pot of soup and enjoy your Sunday.
hugs
Geezus... that is so ridiculous that they would make you go through something like that when they already know the what they are going to say. I am SOOOO glad that you guys believe and know that Rodger is not part of those statistics...he is his own statistic. I love you!
ReplyDeleteThe "Unknown" post above is me...i tried to change my profile so you knew who was commenting and it wouldn't let me do that... Oh, well...no big deal.
ReplyDeletePut the "stats" out of your head (or at least at the back).
ReplyDeleteRemember:
Kickin Ass & Takin Numbers...that's what you guys are good at!!