YO-YO RIDING

Hallo All, sorry for the silence. Been struggling still with nausea and the pills I am on to try to combat it send me to sleep for half the day. Three days ago my counts dropped a wee bit, but then stepped up to the mark the following day with a neutrophil reading of 1.36. So I was firing up ready to explode. Yesterday I was visited by the new young Registrar who gave me the much awaited feedback on my bone marrow report. She tells me that there is no sign of disease, which of course is a good thing. I don't want the leukaemia to return before I have had a chance to build a new fighting fit immune system. However she seems unclear as to what the rest of the report was saying. This is a bad moment. She mutters something about an empty bone marrow, ie no signs of regrowth. She says the consultants are meeting tomorrow and one of them will see me on the ward round in the afternoon to explain to me more fully the results of the report...She leaves the room. My head goes into overdrive: will this will mean another bone marrow test, maybe the babies have given up the ghost, am i sailing up the creek without a paddle? I sink, rather pathetically and too quickly for my own liking. I realize how fragile I am psychologically. How so easy it is for me to crumple. The afternoon drags on. One of my favorite nurses is on night duty and gives me a gentle pep talk. I manage to stop the downward spiral. The report is giving an account of bone activity that was taken a week ago. Even if it wasn't showing anything positive then, the chance is, that with a further bone marrow test, it will show something is working now. At least that is what I think. I fall asleep exhausted after watching 'Africa' the new David Attenborough documentary. Lions and lizards, mountain gorillas and dusty elephants. I wish I could be wandering across the savannah of East Africa....

Damn! This has been a very hard 24 hours. I spend the morning trying not to throw up, and manage successfully (just). Luigi's soup settles my stomach. I sleep half the afternoon. The consultant appears at 4pm. He spends a lot of time talking about my nausea, goes through the long list of tablets I am on and stops a couple of them. Unable to contain myself I ask about the bone marrow report. "Oh, that's good. All fine. Your counts are going up and the marrow is showing signs of regeneration" I am gobsmacked! I get him to repeat what he has just said. And I hear it all over again. Never have words sounded so sweet. I find myself wiping away a couple of tears. There is no need for a further bone marrow test just yet (though I will have to have them monthly for a while). The prof goes on by saying that I should be able to go home on Saturday if all stays well. I am like a firework about to explode in bed. I beam from ear to ear. It has been such unexpected news. I will have to learn to self inject. Daily GCSF doses to keep my neutrophils boosted until they reach a total of 2.5. Today they are 1.6, which means that I can start to eat all the things I want as soon as I am home. I crave fresh crunchy lettuce, tomatoes, fennel, chicory. A big salad is for the making...

Bizarrely, as if by some strange unspoken sibling magic, both Richard and Adrian turn up within half an hour of the ward round. I feel like a kid with a shiny new Christmas present. Thrilled at telling them. As Luigi says, in his best english, "really good news". We celebrate with cold kit-kats and M&S ham sandwiches (mmm, the makings of a Famous Five picnic - but no lashings of ginger beer). As I tip tap this out now, I close my eyes and know that I will soon be feasting my eyes on sky and clouds and planes and trees. My garden. All sodden and wintery. The robin that hops by daily at breakfast for her feed. My ears will be full of the sounds of everyday: the creak of my bedroom window opening, the sound of the kettle filling, the spinning of the washing machine. It's amazing how these simple noises give shape to our domestic lives. Yet who ever bothers to think on such things? Until they are gone.

Dear friends, family and total strangers (of whom I know there are some that read this blog) - This particular update has been a long time coming. Thanks to you all for your support, interest, encouragement, prayers, positive vibes, candling lighting, carol singing (thanks specially Sims and Cuming families!) texts, mails, smoke signals etc. I have no doubt that without the backing of you all, in so many different ways, I would not be at this stage. Emotionally for me it really has made a difference knowing that you are all out there gunning for me. As the consultant said this afternoon, "it's still early days". I know there is a lot of road left to travel. But so far, so very good. Me and the babies walking hand in hand. Regeneration. The New Generation. Back very soon. tch xxx