Written Apr 25, 2012 6:24pm by Amanda Berbig
I really wanted to title today's post: ...And the
drumroll please..., but I was reserving that for good news. Granted,
today's news could've been worse, as I'll explain, but it was far from
the best case scenario we were hoping for.
Let me begin by saying that deciphering the technical jargon is remarkably harder than I'd anticipated, but I'm gonna give it a go.
The chemo did it's job, just not enough. Her blast count was 70%. If I'm understanding correctly, it has dropped to somewhere in the ballpark of 46%, which is well beyond a normal or tolerable range. Again, if I'm clear, the blasts were somewhat obscured by monocytes (white blood cells I think), and therefor the count may not be completely accurate, but accurate enough to determine that more treatment is necessary. Also, a certain kind of irregular blast cell, known as CD34-positive blasts, exist. I think even the doctors don't exactly understand them, but they're bad.
What's all this mean? More Chemotherapy for starters. At least that looks likely. Perhaps BMT (bone marrow transplant surgery) will take place after that. But before I go getting ahead of myself you should know that none of this is set in stone as yet. Tomorrow morning the Doc's all meet to come to a consensus, and determine the best plan of attack.
Meanwhile, it seems that she'll be calling the hospital home for another month or so. Then it's break time, whether more treatment is imminent or not, to give her rest, physically and mentally. Then... Well, who knows right now? Probably BMT time, but we have a long road between now and then to cover. We'll cross that bridge when we get there.
We expected this, somewhat, but are still rather shaken. I wonder if you ever grow immune to results like these. I hope to never find out. We still believe in these doctors and in God's plan, but our entire life has taken a decidedly more difficult route than we ever thought possible just a few short weeks ago. We know we'll make it outta here, but that light at the end of this tunnel seems to have just gotten further away.
One bright, shinning little star in all of this, that we're clinging to, is that through the next months she'll need breaks between rounds of treatment. Amanda is the Maid of honor (or whatever it's called for a married woman) in Monica and Anthony's wedding in N. Carolina, this August. We'll be able to somewhat schedule treatments and it looks likely that we'll be able to attend the wedding! It would've broken her heart (& Moni's, n mine, n a bunch of other peoples) if we couldn't have that to look forward to.
That's it in a nutshell, folks. Say a prayer for her. Thanks.
-Z
Let me begin by saying that deciphering the technical jargon is remarkably harder than I'd anticipated, but I'm gonna give it a go.
The chemo did it's job, just not enough. Her blast count was 70%. If I'm understanding correctly, it has dropped to somewhere in the ballpark of 46%, which is well beyond a normal or tolerable range. Again, if I'm clear, the blasts were somewhat obscured by monocytes (white blood cells I think), and therefor the count may not be completely accurate, but accurate enough to determine that more treatment is necessary. Also, a certain kind of irregular blast cell, known as CD34-positive blasts, exist. I think even the doctors don't exactly understand them, but they're bad.
What's all this mean? More Chemotherapy for starters. At least that looks likely. Perhaps BMT (bone marrow transplant surgery) will take place after that. But before I go getting ahead of myself you should know that none of this is set in stone as yet. Tomorrow morning the Doc's all meet to come to a consensus, and determine the best plan of attack.
Meanwhile, it seems that she'll be calling the hospital home for another month or so. Then it's break time, whether more treatment is imminent or not, to give her rest, physically and mentally. Then... Well, who knows right now? Probably BMT time, but we have a long road between now and then to cover. We'll cross that bridge when we get there.
We expected this, somewhat, but are still rather shaken. I wonder if you ever grow immune to results like these. I hope to never find out. We still believe in these doctors and in God's plan, but our entire life has taken a decidedly more difficult route than we ever thought possible just a few short weeks ago. We know we'll make it outta here, but that light at the end of this tunnel seems to have just gotten further away.
One bright, shinning little star in all of this, that we're clinging to, is that through the next months she'll need breaks between rounds of treatment. Amanda is the Maid of honor (or whatever it's called for a married woman) in Monica and Anthony's wedding in N. Carolina, this August. We'll be able to somewhat schedule treatments and it looks likely that we'll be able to attend the wedding! It would've broken her heart (& Moni's, n mine, n a bunch of other peoples) if we couldn't have that to look forward to.
That's it in a nutshell, folks. Say a prayer for her. Thanks.
-Z
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