It has been 3 months since I posted here. I apologize to those who have relied on this as the source of information related to Harper and her battle with cancer.
The past 3 months have been a repeating cycle, a bit like the movie Groundhog Day.
Get chemo - counts drop
Give Neupogen - white stay low
Give blood and/or platelets - those counts improve
Give more Neupogen - whites slowly rise
Get more chemo - counts drop again
Repeat
10 long rounds. 3-4 weeks each. Chemo, vomiting, Neupogen, blood, platelets, more vomiting, more Neupogen, repeat.
Last week she got the last big infusion. Round 10. The end of the roadmap we started on in May.
But is this the end? Have we reached the light we've been chasing? Or is there still ground to cover?
Next week we get another set of scans. Every set of scans has shown improvement. The prayer is this will be the same.
What could be in front of us? Likely - radiation. The tumors in her liver were so large and advanced, it seems unlikely they are completely gone with just the chemo. Greatly reduced in size? Yes. Gone? No.
So, likely, we will be looking at shooting radiation at Harper, hopefully killing mostly tumor cells without irradiating healthy tissue.
I hate the idea of radiation. I hate the idea that we will (in layman, simplified, and likely uneducated terms) expose Harper to a nuclear bomb. The same energy that kills being used to save.
Yes, it's very measured doses. Yes, it would likely be extremely focused, but still not my favorite idea in the world.
But, as with everything Harper has endured, the end goal trumps almost all else. Getting her healthy, free from this cancer is the only things that matters. Ridding her little, happy, cheerful (despite this agony) body of this demon.
The week following the scan we will sit down with the oncology team and discuss the next steps. We'll learn what we do next on our path.
So, we travel on. The scenery will potentially change, but the epic journey continues.
We tempt ourselves, occasionally, and spend time thinking about how life will be after treatment ends. We consider how we should celebrate. We contemplate a return to family vacations. We wonder what it will be like to help Harper re-adjust to going to school each morning (and not sleeping until 10). But only for fleeting moments. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. There are still miles to go. No planning yet - just teasing at this point. Wonderful teasing...
But... We're getting there. We can see the light. We can almost taste the normalcy. We think we can hear the cheers, the shouts, the joy in the air.
Confidence is building.
Victory.
Not yet. But soon.
