The Roller Coaster Ride

On Monday, March 3, 2025 Michael completed his first course of chemo. Monday was an encouraging day, as every single one of Michael’s blood cell counts was up substantially despite his being on chemo. His ANC and hemoglobin were both hovering just below “normal,” and his platelets were in the normal range for the first time since his diagnosis.

The chemo that Michael is on systematically destroys his bone marrow cells. As I’ve stated in previous posts, the bone marrow is the factory that produces all of one’s blood cells. The fact that all of his counts were up indicated that Michael’s body was fighting back, producing new bone marrow cells that were, in turn, producing good blood cells.

That day Michael had his typical blood draw and doctor’s appointment followed by another spinal tap and bone marrow biopsy. Spinal taps are going to be a regular thing for Michael moving forward. As he begins his second course of chemo, he will have them every week for the first four weeks of the course. They don’t seem to bother him that much, which I am grateful for. And he is sedated during the procedure which we are both grateful for.

Bone marrow biopsies will be less frequent, exactly how frequent, I am not sure. They are more painful than spinal taps as a large needle is forced deep into the bone to remove a sample of the marrow. Michael is also sedated for biopsies, and they are usually done at the same time as a spinal tap. It typically takes Michael 4 or 5 days to recover from a biopsy.

The procedures on March 3rd were uneventful, and we got to go home at a decent time. On Tuesday, Doctor Delap called to answer some questions that we had about the treatment plan. Once our questions were answered, she informed us that the biopsy results were already back. They were not able to detect any leukemia cells! Michael was officially in remission!

This news did not change anything with Michael’s treatment plan. This kind of leukemia is known for coming back and must continue to be treated very aggressively. However, this did give us some light at the end of a very long tunnel. We are one month into a two-and-a-half-year treatment plan. But the fact that the chemo is doing what it was supposed to do, makes the hard times more bearable. This was by far the high point of our journey thus far.

The evening that we got the news that Michael was in remission. Sarah and I took him to see Sarah’s hairstylist Julie after hours. At this point, Michael’s hair had been falling out for over a week, and he was finally ready to just be done with it. Both Sarah and I shed a few tears as what was left of Michael’s hair was swiftly removed. Julie told Michael that his head was the perfect shape for a shaved head.

When we got him home, all of the other kids were upstairs in their rooms. None of them wanted to face this next phase of “normal” for us. We called them down, and the girls especially had a hard time. There were plenty of tears that night, as our family came face to face with our new reality. The good news is that this phase is just temporary, and that Michael’s hair will grow back.

The irony is that Michael has taken this new development in stride. Throughout this entire process, he has shown very little emotion. It’s his family members who seem to be having the hardest time with all of the changes. For a while, I was concerned about Him and still am at times. Michael has never been one, at least in recent years, to be very open about what is going on inside his head and heart. When asked how he is doing, his typical answers are “fine,” “good,” or “ok.” When pressed for more details, he typically responds with “I don’t know.”

But I have seen God’s grace at work in his life. He told me the other day that He is not angry about having cancer and is not upset with God. He seems to approach each day with a calm collectedness that has surprised me. In my observations from years of visiting people in the hospital, I have often noted that the people in the hospital bed seem to do better emotionally than the loved ones sitting next to the bed. That seems to be the case in Michael’s situation as well.

As this roller coaster ride continues in the weeks and months to come, and as our “normal” continues to change, I am asking God for the grace that I need to lead my family well.