Die cancer die!

I've been in a holding pattern, waiting for a bone marrow transplant since early July (when we found out that there were cancer cells in my spinal fluid). After some intensive chemotherapy in July and August, those stubborn cells were still showing up, though thankfully they haven't formed any tumors. So I began ten rounds of cranial/spinal radiation in early September with the expectation that they would be wiped out and I could continue on to transplant.

After 9 of the rounds, my team did a spinal tap to get a sample of my spinal fluid and ran flow cytometry on it to check for cancer cells. The bad news is that they are still showing up. My doctor gave us the choice to continue with the transplant anyway, with a much diminished chance of curing the lymphoma, or going home and letting nature run its course.

Last week's news hit hard. We stayed up all Thursday night crying together and feeling sorry for ourselves. Friday was better. The doctors at the clinic hold a weekly meeting where they discuss the cases of various transplant patients. They unanimously agreed that if I wanted to fight, we should start the transplant right away. A low chance for success is better than none at all!

There is still hope, otherwise they wouldn't perform the transplant on me. There is a chance that the cells that they found after the radiation are dead and just hadn't been flushed out of my system yet. That makes sense to me. It just doesn't seem reasonable that they would already be resistant to radiation, when I hadn't had any before (besides the small amount of stuff we're all exposed to in the Tri-Citites, ha ha).

And I don't feel like it's my time to go. I know that we're all going to die someday, and that if the Lord wants me to go home, there's not much I can do about it. But I don't feel like that is His will for me. Christina and I both feel that somehow this is going to all work out and that I'll be able to come home
and be with my family as my kids grow up.

Both of our families held a fast for me today and our ward held a fast for our family. We were able to come home for the weekend, spend time with our children and Christina's family, and attend church at our home ward. I can't tell you how rejuvenated I feel. I am so very thankful for everyone's love and prayers. I can't tell you what it means to me, but I can tell you that they are a source of hope and strength for Christina and I right now.

I'm going in tomorrow for three days of whole body radiation. This will wipe out my bone marrow and destroy my immune system. On Wednesday, the clinic will collect stem cells from the blood of my youngest brother, Jarom. On Thursday, those cells will be circulated into my blood and will become my new immune system. I'll need to get all of my shots over again, just like a newborn. I'll be in the hospital for about 30 days, less if I do amazingly well. Then I'll spend another two months here in Seattle being monitored closely. We're hoping to be home around Christmas.