There’s No Place Like Home, Part Two

Darcy has been home now for a little over a week, and continues to do well. She feels a little bit better day by day, and is slowly building back her strength. Those who have talked to her know that she sounds like her old self- energetic, positive, and upbeat- rather than the listless, bone-tired woman I’ve seen over the last several months.

Last Friday she had an appointment at the clinic in Ann Arbor, the first since she came home. Dr. Levine told her she “[is] doing great, but you’re not out of the woods yet.” This is a reminder to us all that while things are going very well right now, this fight is a long way from being over. Next week she goes back for the 100-day bone marrow biopsy, which will tell us, among other things, whether the leukemia is still being successfully suppressed by her new immune system, and give some clues to how the transplanted cells are reproducing and flourishing. Graft versus host disease is still a concern; indeed, it most commonly manifests after the 100 day mark after the transplant.

I am given to making historical analogies, and this is no exception. While many diseases and (especially) injuries have serious, even deadly consequences, there is a point at which it becomes possible to declare victory and no longer worry about its return. For example, pneumonia can be deadly, but after recovery one is hardly more likely to experience it again than he was before. Some heart conditions are treated so effectively that the same is often true. The analogy that comes to my mind is the Second World War, indeed most wars up to that point: an existential struggle characterized by pitched battles, perhaps a long struggle, but which ends in a dramatic surrender or treaty that signifies a clear end to the hostilities.

Cancer (and, I believe, especially non tumor cancers such as leukemia) is not like that, but more like our current war against the terrorists. The only way we know it is over is when there aren’t any more attacks. Similarly, we will only know that Darcy is cured when she no longer has any relapses or recurrence of leukemia in her bone marrow. What that means, as a practical matter, is that we will never be able to say with confidence that she is cured. The most we will be able to say is that at this point she has no leukemia. Of course, that’s not nothing; we will be very happy if we can say that for the next, say, 40 or 50 years. But I am just superstitious enough to be very wary of actually saying she is cured.

Yesterday we moved the rest of our things out of the apartment in Ann Arbor. I now have my wife and all of our “stuff” here at our home in Sparta. Darcy and I have somewhat different viewpoints on this. While I am thrilled to have Darcy home permanently, I will miss spending time in Ann Arbor. As I’ve written before, I truly fell in love with the town. It fits my sensibilities very well, and any town that has that many good used bookstores is bound to have an attraction. I lived for many years in a college town (Iowa City, IA) and enjoy being around the intelligentsia that inhabits those towns. Finally, and most importantly, I view Ann Arbor as the place where the doctors saved Darcy’s life; without the treatments she received there, she would no longer be with us.

On the other hand, Darcy tends to view the town as the place where she was so sick, and no doubt felt  like a captive of the hospital and the town at times. Being there necessarily took her away from her family and friends, and those who know her know that nothing is more important to her. In time, I hope that she will view Ann Arbor in a more positive light as the memories of how awful she felt during most of the time she stayed there recede into the distance.

We will have many opportunities to revisit Ann Arbor, since she will be making many return trips for checkups and appointments. Anything having to do with cancer and leukemia will be dealt with at U of M, since any treatment going forward must apparently be viewed through the prism of the transplant. They are the experts on that. For the next few months Darcy will be returning once every week or two as they remain vigilant of a relapse or complications.

It is amazing how events change our outlook. While I have not given up on pursuing the career change we’ve been working towards the last few years, we did put it on hold indefinitely once Darcy’s diagnosis became known to us. I had gotten used to not knowing when, or even if, I would be able to return to school and finish the two semesters of student teaching that stands between me and teacher certification. Suddenly last Friday when Darcy came home, it seemed far more possible than it has for the last six months. We are still a long way away, as Darcy will need to return to work (in order to obtain health insurance) before I can take the time off from work to finish school. But it feels much, much closer than it did two weeks ago.

Thanks to all of our friends and family who have supported us so faithfully over the last half-year. Your prayers, thoughts, visits, gifts of time, money and food have been and continue to be very important to us. Without them we would be…I don’t know where we would be. You and our Lord have meant everything to us on this journey so far. Please continue walking alongside us for the rest of this odyssey; we so want to share the good times we know lie ahead as we have the bad. We’re excited to see what He has in store for us next.

Stay tuned!

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