Blood, Sweat and Tears

Early on a friend told me that I would find a little bit of good news in each visit, and he was right.

The chemo pump went back on yesterday after a two week break, and during our visit my doctor had plenty to share. First, my white and red blood cells, platelets and various other blood components have all stayed very stable - on the mid to very low side, but all still in the normal range. As chemotherapy drugs can't distinguish between healthy and evil cells it attacks them all, which naturally results in these various counts dropping. The ability to fight off infection and stop bleeding is pretty critical, so these complete blood counts (CBCs) are closely monitored each week. Beyond the normal range is the 'lower-than-normal-but-we'll-still-treat-you range', followed by the 'so-low-we-can't-chemo-you-up-this-week-and-don't-cut-yourself-shaving range'. I hope to avoid both.

More importantly, they shared the results of the genetic testing they had performed on my biopsy. They were looking for the five genetic mutations commonly associated with hereditary nonpolyposis colorectal cancer (HNPCC), which is a syndrome that puts people at higher risk for colorectal cancer. Some studies indicate that without screening as much as 80% of people with HNPCC will develop this cancer, compared to about 4% of the general population, and at a much earlier age.

I tested negative for each, meaning that mine is assumed to be just a sporadic cancer. Given the maze that cancer is, there are likely other hereditary genetic mutations that simply haven't been isolated yet, but I'm willing to take these results for what they are, which is good news. For me, while it doesn't rule out a recurrence, people without HNPCC tend to respond better to treatment and have slightly less risk of recurrence. Most importantly, though Van will still have to go for regular screening at an early age now that he has this dreaded family history, I did not pass any known genetic mutation on to him - and it is unlikely that my brothers carry them either.

I don't think I realized how heavily this was weighing on me until Dr. Conlin shared the news and I promptly broke down in tears. This is rare for me, and based on her pie-eyed, mad scramble for tissues, I know I surprised us both - but I imagine oncologists don't get to see happy tears as often as they would like, so I don't think she minded.