Remission.
There I said it.
For some reason it’s been hard to say out loud. Maybe because I wasn’t there when the Dr. uttered the wonderful word, or maybe I was afraid saying it would jinx it. I think Dad had a hard time believing it too.
When treatment’s over, suddenly there’s an abyss of inaction. Something that has consumed your every thought and action has suddenly taken a back burner to more important things, like living.
We’ve all had time, though we may have not wanted it, to think about what has happened and what may be to come. Now there is the constant worry that it is lurking, waiting to return. But for now, living is more important.
Dad’s blood is all clean, time to start farming. He is going to go forward with t-cell replacement therapy. They will use his own t-cells. Then they will zap his counts down to nothing... zero, nada, zilch. A little ironic after we have spent the last few months celebrating increases in his levels. All that hard work and poof it’s gone.
After that they will inject his t-cells back. Simple version, but my medical terminology is very limited. It will be a long, hard couple months. He will spend a couple weeks in the hospital basically quarantined, and then he will need to stay close to the hospital for a few more. He will get “chemo sick” again and not feel good. A very small price to pay for a clean bill of health.
He is doing well. Spirits are up and he is ready to have this all behind him. He feels good but still gets tired and achy. The Dr. said this could last for up to a year. His body has gone through a lot.
He was down at The Huntsman yesterday for a back poke, today they will insert a main line, and Friday he will have an appointment with his Dr. after that we should know when everything else will start.
Dad is one heck of a rancher. I am sure he will be just as good at farming.
