Saturday, September 17, 2011

September 17

I miss my baby. I miss him with a force that brings a lump to my throat and tears to my eyes when I look at his pictures. I want to run home and scoop him up and hold him tight for hours. He is crawling all over the place now (which I haven’t seen), getting into everything. Looks like we have our work cut out for us with some serious baby-proofing. He just grows so quickly and learns new things every day and thinking about not being there to see them first, makes me feel sorrier for myself than anything else related to this cancer. But it is not a pity in which I indulge for more than a few seconds, and I remind myself that I could just as easy be on a business trip or even a vacation. He is having a wonderful time with his grandparents and no part of me is worried about him. I just miss him. I miss him so very much. But I have no doubt that this treatment will be my cure and we will find out soon that the cancer is gone. In that case, we will have traded 1 year for 50, and I’ll take that swap any day.
I got my new cells on Thursday. It was a somewhat anticlimactic 20-minute IV infusion. Knowing how much care and work went into creating the cells specifically for me, I thought there should be balloons, and confetti, and “I’m a Survivor” blasting throughout the unit. So I gave my new cells that party in my head and continue to visualize them flying around in tiny fighter jets, zapping the tumors one by one. These are my warriors, my heroes, my saviors and I am just here to cheer them on. That is a strange distinction, that between body and mind. I consider my “me” to live inside my mind and it is that me that I am trying to save by curing my body. Otherwise my body is just a machine that functions automatically, with no goal or meaning or thought of any kind. So we’re working together, these two components of me – body and mind – because we depend on each other to win this fight. My body to respond to treatment, and my mind to never give up.  And I speak for all of me when I say that cancer better run and hide because we are out with a vengeance and we are pissed. And, thanks to my super bionic warrior cells, there is no place you can run where we can’t find you and defeat you. Clearly you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you decided to mess with me because love conquers all, and I am encased in an impenetrable shield of pure love made from thousands of hearts shining brilliant light to cheer me on.  And for that I am thankful.
Other than getting the cells, not too much is going on. We are now just waiting for my cell counts to come back up to an acceptable level so I can go home and snuggle my baby. I’m not even hooked up to the IV anymore, so that’s a nice freedom.  I can walk around the clinical center as long as I wear a mask, although I try not to leave my room too much since my cell counts are down so low (today they are 160, which is the lowest they have been so far). My dad and step-mom are coming today. I’m excited to show them this amazing Clinical Center. Its sheer size elicits admiration enough, but seeing all of the pieces/departments who work together seamlessly to save lives is truly awe-inspiring. Hopefully they will even meet Drs. Miller and Phan (since it’s a weekend, fewer doctors come to visit during the day). I really like the new Fellows, Drs. Miller (my primary doctor), Hessmen, and Stewart. In addition to being on their way to becoming brilliant oncologists, they are also fun and full of life, quick to laugh, and very easy to talk to. As much as I will always love Dr. Schaub, there is a different kind of freeness in speaking about certain side effects to a group of women. Especially since they are all just about my age, and are definitely people I would want to be friends with on the outside. So for now we are waiting, waiting, waiting. Cheering on my superhero cells and remaining unbendingly confident in my cure.
Today I am thankful for my superhero cells who are flying their little planes all throughout my body; I am thankful for the continued personal care of my phenomenal doctors and nurses; I am thankful for all the fun Kai is having with his grandparents and for all they are doing to help us; I am thankful for a visit from my dad and step-mom; I am thankful for the continued overwhelming support of our MMG family, as well as all of our family and friends; and, as always, I am thankful for my sweet Jeff who is truly my partner in this battle, and our perfect baby Kai. I cannot wait to see all of your exciting new skills, sweet baby, and most of all I cannot wait to hold you close with the knowledge that I will be here for all of the rest of your firsts.



    Tried to post this for you on Wednesday, but end up in crazy validation cycles. I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy it!


  2. Hey Jamie,
    I just finished reading through all of your posts for September. I had no idea that anything like this was even possible... creating cells, getting to see them, talking to them? Amazing.
    On a side note, the photos that your Mom shared from your trip to the beach made me smile from ear to ear. My favorite is the one of you and Kai in the ferris wheel. Pure joy!
    But the photo of you and Jeff bald... priceless! Definitely a photo worth a thousand words, starting with "love" and ending with "beautiful".
    Much love and many hugs ~Judy

  3. Hi Jamie,
    My name is Valerie. I am John-Mark Miller's wife. He found your blog a few days ago and shared it with me tonight. It is beautiful. I wanted to let you know that we will be praying for you and your sweet little family. John-Mark said in high school you were a freckly little red head. What is kind of fun is that we have just had our fourth little red head.
    You are going to kick this. With the new baby, I keep thinking about how much happens in the first year. You have had quite a year! Keep fighting strong!

  4. Just think...he will crawl straight to you as soon as you come through that door! Keep truckin' girlfriend. You got this. XO

  5. It's so good to read good stuff. Back from Myrtle Beach and couldn't wait to read your blog. I'm not disappointed. You continue to hang in there like an indestructible oak. You are truly amazing. God bless.