Treatment ... Phase One: Induction

The treatment starts with what they call "induction phase" and is the same for all types/levels of leukemia .... Essentially?  Eradicate the leukemia cells.  That phase lasts approximately a month (28 days) in which G will have weekly chemo treatments: the nurses came in dressed in purple hazmat clothes to administer the chemo.  Then whenever we changed his diaper, we wore gloves and place the soiled diaper in a specific hazmat trash can.  His diapers have to be changed frequently (read: newborn phase ;)) and we consistently put on a diaper ointment because of what the nurses term: chemo-pee.   His medications also include two rounds of steroids a day (which increase his appetite and his irritability/aggression), zantac twice a day, a drug called septra twice a day on Mondays and Tuesdays, more lumbar punctures and bone marrow tests.   At the end of this phase, the leukemia should be in remission.

Post surgery to implant the port in his chest

 G's journey began with a surgery to implant a port in his chest to aid in future chemo treatments.  This will allow him more freedom with his arms (no more IVs) and help him be more comfortable.  The surgery would also include a lumbar-puncture to see if there were any leukemia cells in the spinal fluid and a bone marrow extraction to determine the percentage of leukemia cells in the bone marrow.  He was to have surgery Saturday, so wasn't allowed anything to eat or drink.  And as luck would have it, the surgery was postponed due to emergency appendectomies.  So G ate a little dinner and then began fasting again for surgery the next morning.  After more emergencies further postponed his surgery to the afternoon (note to self: try to not to be diagnosed with cancer on the weekend), we escorted G down to the OR (I stayed on the bed with him the entire way down).  It took coaxing and more coaxing to get him to wear a mask and then down the elevator we went.  The anesthesiologist introduced himself, explained what would happen, asked for questions and then kept looking at me strangely (I was still on the bed)....finally he asked if G would go in without me, to which I said "Ummm, doubtful."  They brought out a solution to put into his IV and G started to cry.  Then in an instant, he stopped, deep in sleep.   The anesthesiologist stooped to pick him up and carried him away from me and his dad.

Braving yet another blood-pressure cuff

The port surgery went well and the good news was that there were no leukemia cells in the spinal fluid ... whew.  So, the doctors said that because of his CBC levels (complete blood count) and the negative on the spinal fluid he was in the low to medium risk category...and if the percentage of leukemia in the bone marrow was low, he could be moved to the low risk category. 

It takes days to get back results for bone marrow scans.  We were never told the results.  I'm not sure why we kept forgetting to ask - probably due to all the new information we received each time we went to clinic.  But finally, about three weeks ago, I remembered to ask ... and the answer was 98.5%.  Woah.  Needless to say, he wasn't moved to low risk.

G received two blood transfusions during induction.  Once while in the hospital and once in the middle of the 28-day induction.  Blood transfusions are crazy.  It is a full-day affair.  More so for G because he has an antibody in his blood which requires some extra prep time once the blood is ordered.  (further note to self: try not to need a transfusion on a Friday when you have to return for chemo on Monday ... not enough interim time for a 2 year old).

Feeling much better without all the IVs

I am amazed with G's strength.  I'm in awe of it, really.  He acclimated so quickly to all the pokes and prods.  He, of course, is still two, and so everything annoyed him at first.  But I almost teared up when, on day two at the hospital, the nurse came in to get vitals and he just held up his little arm without even looking at her.  Then, when we left the hospital, he was as animated as could be.  So excited to be outside.  That excitement carried thru to the first few clinic appointments (which are every Monday).  He was thrilled to actually be getting out of the house.  However, that euphoria was short-lived - about 1.5 appointments to be exact.  Finally, at the end of our third visit, as we headed toward the door, this conversation ensued:
G: We going home now?
Me: Yes
G: And we never go back to the doctor ever again!
Me: I wish that were true, buddy.

Casey