I think it is time for an update!
Time is flying by seemingly faster than ever before. And change is ubiquitous. It seems like it was just a few months ago that Covid crashed into our lives managing to alter everyone’s plans, both short and long term. Here in Costa Rica we check to see what day of the week one was permitted to drive according to license plate number. And the country closed to foreign visitors and now preparing to open again. So many unknowns. At least my monthly blood test kept me more or less in touch with my leukemia that was diagnosed around last December. Now, my monthly custom has been to have a local laboratory here in San Isidro do the blood tests with results sent to Dr. Rojas, my cancer doc in San Jose. Then we would arrange a time to talk by telephone. About 3 months ago Dr. Rojas suggested that I stop taking the chemo therapy pills and see how I could do on my own. The results were pretty good though my white blood cell count was still not in the normal range. As September rolled by I was especially eager to talk with him and was having some difficulty reaching him by email. Then, he suddenly surprised Billy and me by saying he wanted the monthly blood test to be from a hematologico laboratorio or a lab specialized for blood tests. Billy checked around and there was none in our city, San Isidro de El General. It meant a trip to San Jose which was tedious and more risky with regard to covid carriers. Okay – so we braced ourselves for the 4 hour to and from car trip Friday Sept 25 and left at 4 a.m. We had no idea how it would go for traffic as well as getting the test done through the Caja (Costa Rica’s public healthcare system) without a prescription. It could be tricky. We hoped to be back home by late afternoon, early evening. In San Jose, as usual Billy found a place to park that wasn’t too far from the back of the hospital and he went in alone, his face covered with two kinds of masks. His plan was to try to find Dr. Rojas to get the necessary prescription for my blood test. Returning to the car he announced that he had been successful in finding a nurse who agreed to write a prescription and we were good to go. With me in the wheelchair, Billy navigated the maze of corridors and secret looking doorways through the caverns of San Juan de Dios hospital to the lab. There was no wait and a nurse drew my blood. Though we hoped to be able to talk with Dr. Rojas, there was little hope without an appointment which can only be obtained through the hospital procedures and generally a month or two in advance. Oh well – we decided we would wait for the results by email from the lab. Suddenly, as we were starting to make our exit, Billy got a call on his cellphone from Dr. Rojas, who said he wanted to see us before we left. He would find us in the cancer waiting area as soon as possible. We were glad for the opportunity to talk with him and found a waiting location as far away from people as we could manage but within sight of the doctors’ area and its several closed doors. About twenty minutes later we saw Dr. Rojas gesturing through a partially open door motioning us to come with him, which we did. It strangely felt as if we were being called in by the principal – or something similar.
Ushered into a small examination room, there was a feeling of excitement or urgency. Dr. Rojas, a young and energetic specialist in hematology with a reputation as quite a fine leukemia physician was holding the lab results in his hand. After greeting both of us, he looked directly at me and said that if he was reading this lab test from an unknown patient he would have to report that this person was quite healthy. Pausing, he looked at both of us and must have seen our quizzical expressions. He stressed again, ‘Healthy. With no sign of Leukemia.” Though the previous three months of blood tests had shown promising results in red blood cell counts and some of the white blood cell counts, the truth was that Dr. Rojas didn’t really trust the results we’d sent from the private lab in San Isidro. Now he sat holding results from The lab he trusted most and was seeing even better results. They read Normal except for some anemia that could be explained by my kidney issues. I said to him, “The results show no sign of cancer?” “Yes!” he exclaimed pointing to the various numbers and explaining the normal ranges. Finally I said, “How do you explain this, Doctor?” And he responded several times that he had no explanation. He reminded us again that we had done all the tests available last November, December and January and identified my specific and rare Leukemia. And in all the cases he knew about with this particular leukemia, he had never seen a result like I have. I told him that I still have some of the annoying symptoms like numbness in my feet and legs, inability to walk without my walker. He replied that he hoped the symptoms would slowly go away. Billy and I just looked at each other and then I asked if he could say that I was in remission. He laughed and said that he never likes to use the word ‘remission’ with this cancer, but that yes – maybe we could say that. To my next question which was asking what we do now, his reply with a big smile was that I should continue doing whatever I’m doing and he’d like to hear from me each month with blood tests and then to see me again in January, 2021. Whew. I liked the idea of a new year, too! 2020 has been “trying” at the very least. It has taken me well over a week to really process all of this. It is a bit like I am still unsure I heard it right. We’ve made a few changes to the scheduling of caretakers but mostly I’m doing just what he said – exactly what I was doing before I saw him. So what is that? My walks with Johny continue and I am now averaging between 4 and 5,000 steps per day. I’m taking no medication except for what my kidney doctor prescribed and now I am thinking about another book I’d like to write. How I Cured my Cancer, Accidentally.
And now I do have a few thoughts on what I am referring to as this accidental healing. Actually, I am doing quite a lot of thinking and writing now about things like my daily walking routines back and forth on the ceramic tiles in front of my house. And especially about how I will include the familiar characters I stop to interact with – Maury, the spined spider, various flowers and plants, Camila my cat, wild birds like the chatty parrots that fly through, always talking to each other and the wonderful Laughing Falcon that certainly makes me laugh. And so many many others. I realize that what began as a boring exercise in a trapped enclosure has become something else entirely. And also there are the various thoughts, advice and personal experience in dealing with cancer that also became something much more and that ranges from indigenous poison frog treatments to prayers and meditations. And even more new things as they have appeared in this journey.
As always, I’d love to hear what you think….
