December 30, 2008
Gifts still await opening as they reside under our little Christmas tree which we cut out of the ditch next to the road and near our driveway. It was doomed by its unfortunate location, so we determined that it would spend its last days bearing lights and tinsel and standing on a table in our great room delighting the senses of all who enter there. The entire family will finally be together tomorrow, so it will be the day of gifting and eating traditional Ore holiday foods.
Alphie is using his mended knee most of the time, and his surgical incision is healing nicely. We were told that he absolutely must not lick this part of his body even though it is the first instinct of the dog, and should he be unable to resist the urge to do so, we were to put an “Elizabethan collar” on him. This is a piece of plastic the size of a large lamp shade. Of course Alphie wanted to lick the wound, and at first we tried wrapping fabric loosely around his leg, as well as bandaging, but to no avail. Finally, we tried the collar, and the poor dear went berserk, swinging his head about, bumping into doorways and furniture and knocking flowers to the floor. In a short time, it was too much for all of us, and we took the thing off and called the vet to request Plan B. Fortunately, there was one, and that was a bandage that actually stayed on his leg with a spray to put on the bandage that tastes dreadful. (It should have been Plan A, since it worked perfectly and could have saved us a good deal of frustration and one very nice orchid.)
I have attempted to push all thoughts of January, 2009, back into a corner of my mind since the upcoming bone marrow draw, the placing of the port, and the beginning of a new course of chemotherapy all take place within the first two weeks of the new year. The bone marrow reading will tell us the percentage of “blasts” in the blood, and whether I have moved on to AML. (Acute Myeloid Leukemia) Twenty percent and above are usually the markers for that condition; when I began the disease, I had 18% blasts, and the Vidaza knocked that back to 0.5%, which was wonderful. At my last bone marrow reading, about a year ago, the blasts had returned to 10%, and it was at this point that the oncologist stopped the Vidaza because he felt it was losing its effectiveness and was also beginning to make me quite sick. When the illness did not proceed as the doctor anticipated that it would, he declared that it was taking a “time out” and that has been the gift of 2008, a wonderful time indeed. Now I am returning to the fray, this time with less options and an older and weaker body. It is daunting and sometimes I am afraid, however, only time will tell how life will go on, and as ever, I defer to God’s ultimate plan. Meanwhile, there is tomorrow, and that will be splendid!