Tuesday, November 9, 2010
So tomorrow is the big day. Mama and Papa bear are going into the clinic to get a bone marrow biopsy done, which will basically tell us whether or not the stem cell transplant was effective. For those of you who aren't aware, this procedure is the best way of getting the most accurate image of "where you're at" because it gets a direct sample of the myeloma cells residing within the bone. Needless to say, i'm pretty sure I can speak on behalf of everyone when I say that we're a little nervous... Since my mom was discharged, we've been living in this magical land that goes by the name of ignorance. Ok well, maybe not ignorance, as we are not choosing to ignore anything here. But after a stem cell transplant has occurred, there is usually a period afterwards where you go medication-free and just focus on recovering, on healing. It's been absolutely amazing, almost as if nothing ever happened. As if our lives had returned back to normal, whatever that means anymore. But subtle hints, like my mother's lack of hair and an ever-present cloud hovering above my head (although small), show that reality exists, and gives this dreamscape away. Ignorance truly is bliss. The truth is terrifying. If I could stay in this moment of not knowing forever, I would be satisfied. But alas, the world does not work that way, and we all must come to face reality sooner or later. Whether that is a good or bad thing remains yet unseen. Sometimes, the truth is a hard thing to face. Yet we all manage to derive strength from within in order to do so. I will be honest, since the transplant, not a day has gone by where I do not think about the mortality of my mother. I have gotten better over time at ignoring or shunning these thoughts to the recesses of my mind, but that does not mean it isn't easy, that it doesn't cause me great pain. I don't think my brother, or even my father sometimes, realize to the full extent of what we have gone through and what may lay ahead. A blessing indeed, to not be burdened with such thoughts. Or maybe they do, and they just don't show it. I try my best not to. But there are times where I feel the lessons we've learned, such precious lessons, have already been forgotten among them. I hope not, because those are lessons that no one should have to re-learn. Since the transplant, I have literally prayed every.single.day for the same thing, hoping that they be heard by someone above. That this transplant, and all the treatments beforehand, be all that my mother needs in order to obtain a strong, sturdy, everlasting remission until a cure is found for her, that will work for her. Every day I have prayed for this, and the general well-being of those close to me. Every day. I have never prayed so much for anything in my entire life. And so now, here we are already, turning the page of a new chapter that will hopefully be filled with good health, hope, and happiness. Tomorrow is the day, and I am praying with everything i've got. Please pray for us.