DAY 44: REMISSION?!?

I didn't know you couldn't chew gum, ok!? I was driving to Emory at about 7:15am today when I suddenly started to dry heave (gag) in the car. I think it was a combination of a completely empty stomach and the visceral reaction to another week of inpatient chemo on the horizon. So what did I do? I fumbled for a piece of gum, thinking surely it would be permissible, since it wasn't food and it wasn't going in my stomach.

When I was walking back to get prepped for the scan, the nurse asked casually, "So what's that in your mouth?"

"It's a piece of gum... I was dry heaving on the drive over and this helped."

"Ooohhhh. So sorry, but that messes up the PET scan. Your body starts it's insulin cycle when you chew gum, and that will compromise the reading. You'll have to reschedule."

"Noooooooo! But I am checking in today as an inpatient, and we need this scan before we start my next round!"

"I'll see if I can get you scheduled for this afternoon. Sorry, still no food between now and then. And take that gum out!!"

Deflated, I moped over to the admissions office and checked myself in for another week. I was assigned to room E716, which has a great westerly view of sunsets and the skyline. Score one for the good guys! I came up to the floor and told my nurse what had happened - and that I needed at some point to run home and pick up my wife and our bags for the week. They asked the normal battery of intake questions, got my port accessed, and then let me run home quickly.

Mr. stomach was not happy about the ever-prolonging fast. We got back and waited until 3pm, at which point they took me down to prep for the PET/CT. If you have never before downed two containers of the barium contrast, you're missing out. Mmmm. Chalk!

I waited an hour for the radioactive sugar to permeate my abdomen. All the while... I was surrendering to God in silence the outcome of the scan. What will be, will be. We'll take it as it comes. Ah! The pride! As if we have a choice otherwise, right?!

So I was called back to 'the tube'. I laid there, supine, with my arms over my head. Thirty-five minutes later, we were finished. I was wheeled back up to my room in the fancy wheelchair. Oh, the perks.

Dr. Kaufman came in, who is the attending physician making rounds this week. He said, "I've got good news and bad news. The bad news is, you can't chew gum before a PET/CT scan. Who knew! The good news is... your scan looks clean. You're in remission."

Wow. God, thank you so very much for having me in the palm of your hand every step of the way. I was ecstatic. To Him be all the glory.

He said that this is good for two main reasons. One, we know the chemo regimen is working, and therefore we'll continue it. He said that his opinion is to continue through all 8 cycles, assuming I can handle it. If what we're doing it working, then it's best to do as much of it as you can stand, to help your odds of a complete cure.

Second, I am an early responder. The odds of beating this cancer (like a drum, I might add) is very high. YES!

Lord, you are so good to me. That I might live a long life as your humble servant.