I’m beginning to feel like the little boy who cried wolf. But as long as the wolf doesn’t ever rear its ugly head again then that’s alright with me.
It’s been a nerve-wracking week. Unclassified cells in the peripheral blood can signal relapse and having 8% of cells be unrecognizable certainly gives rise to the heebie-jeebies! Not only did we have crappy blood to worry about, but Scott has been showing no interest in food these last few days and that was the first sign when he was originally diagnosed. He’s also stopped playing on his PS3 and if that’s not spooky then I don’t know what is.
Thankfully – and that’s a huge understatement – his counts today showed no sign of anything sinister. His platelets took a nose-dive, which explains the splattering of bruises he currently has, but the white cells and hemoglobin looked healthy and his anc had recovered. I was also pleased to see the lymphocytes dip. Too many lymphs can also be a red flag. And best of all, not a single, measly unclassified or atypical lymph.
Damn Im so chuffed.
So, today marks 4 and also happens to be 2 years since we first took him to the doctor as he had stopped eating. Just as we were heading out of the door to get to the appointment I noticed the nodes in his neck were swollen, I know this is generally harmless, yet I knew that in Scott’s case it wasn’t. I have never wrote about his diagnosis – its kind of freaky – yet somehow Scott knew, the cats definitely knew, and on seeing those nodes I was also getting a bad, sinking feeling, that it was cancer.
The doctor didn’t seem concerned at all and put it all down to a bug. Two days later Scott threw up and suffered a petechial hemorrhage in his face. An hour later the doctor at a walk-in clinic told me, with tears in her eyes, that she was 99% certain it was leukemia.
However, tonight we party with a big, fat Publix cake and continue with out countdown.