Writings of Constance Ore ( 1937 – 2010 )

Today was made memorable by the visit with my Oncologist in which the results of last week’s bone marrow aspiration were discussed. The news was not as fine as we hoped for; the percentage of blasts in the blood has advanced to 10% from a lovely 0.5% reading in May, 2006. At 20%, one crosses into AML territory, and once there, in this disease, death comes sooner rather than later. I have had a splendid summer and the month of September was stellar, so without discussion, Charles and I both thought that this must mean that improvement was surely taking place in those secret places in the bones. However, in the context of an analogy, the doctor said, “Even in the best laid cement, a crack appears at some point, and something grows there. . . this illness is constantly looking for ways around the chemotherapy, and sooner or later, it will find it.” Already, it has taken increased amounts of Neupogen to bring the white blood cell count back up, and that too has its limitations because it is forcing the body to make the cells. . . “like whipping the horses to pull the wagon as fast as they can. . .”

We asked for a frank discussion, and we agreed that we heard just about all we could absorb in one setting. The doctor said it is hard, because it is looking down a dark tunnel with no light at the end. As is, I will continue the Vidaza as before, perhaps shortening the time between the rounds of chemotherapy to four or five weeks, though again, it is not known what effect more frequent rounds will have. It is not known when/if my body will no longer respond to Vidaza. It is not known if/when the percentage of blasts will go up. The therapy gave me the good days with good blood counts, etc., so we will continue as before, and remember again that we must live in faith, and by the grace of God. It is always shocking to hear that your days are indeed numbered. As I took out the winter turtleneck shirts and corduroy trousers that I packed away in spring, I remembered thinking then that I might not be needing them again, but now they are back in the dresser drawers, and the summer clothes is packed into storage places for another season. So much is unknown in this new life!

This October 9th was a perfect 71.1 degree, sun drenched day; before the visit to the doctor’s office, I took Alphie around for his walk, and two red tailed hawks were sailing over the pasture calling to each other and appearing to be out and about just for the joy of it. After the visit to the doctor’s office, we went to the sporting goods store and found some very fine binoculars for me to use as I walk about. They are a birthday gift from Charles and are vastly superior to my present pair so I shall enjoy them greatly. “These come with a lifetime guarantee” the young man said very earnestly, and I thought, “Hmmm”, but then on the way home I considered that I too have a lifetime guarantee. Thanks be to God!

This morning we had rain at dawn – lovely and refreshing and without storms. Now the sky clears and the air is washed and fine. In the past week, the winds came rushing from the south, carrying molecules recently residing over Oklahoma and Kansas, and when I took a breath, I considered that those very bits of air might well have been passing through the nostrils of a southern politician not too long before. I am not sure it altered my thinking, but one never knows. . . now it is still and peaceful over Sanctuary, with the birds reemerging from the trees and checking out the feeders and grasses for good things to eat.

This afternoon I will do the bone marrow aspiration. The procedure is prefaced with my taking two hydrocodone tablets before arriving at the oncologist’s office, then I am given something under the tongue and also an injection in the arm. After a bit, I am almost in an vegetable state, and we begin. Daughter Heidi comes into the room with me and holds my hand and keeps up a conversation with me – the first time we did this, the doctor asked her, “Are you the fainting kind?” and Heidi said, “No, not at all.” This will be my fourth time. The marrow will be sent to the Med Center in Omaha and read there, and one week from today, I will meet with the oncologist and we will discuss what is within and how the next months will go. . .

Granddaughters came for an “overnight” last weekend, and it is a recurring joy to view life through the eyes of fresh minds. Their observations on the forest walk helped me to see things that I had missed, and they carefully removed the seeds from several pods lying beneath the honey locusts so that their grandfather could pot them and get them started in the greenhouse. He promised to take care of it, and while they may envision a small forest of honey locusts in the near future, we are more realistic about the outcome. Kira, the seven year old, worked out a play date for Alphie. “Grandma, I have an idea,” she said with great seriousness, “We’ll take Alphie home with us, and we will send our two cats home with you for the day. . . they’ll be just fine, and Alphie will love it at our house!” It makes me smile to imagine what such an exchange would do to the general karma of both places.

And so the days go on, here and elsewhere, with events large and small occurring in lives all over the world. We strive always to live within Martin Luther’s wonderfully crafted words of prayer, “Into your hands we give ourselves, our bodies and souls and all things – let your holy angel be with us so that the wicked foe may have no power over us”. To LIFE!

October 4 addition:
The bone marrow aspiration was successfully completed on Tuesday afternoon. I was given a lot of pain killers, but the procedure still felt like a large sized root canal operation in the upper hip bone. it is surely memorable, and all for the wrong reasons. Now we wait for the report on what lies within.

Our walk began at predawn today because now the sun is starting the day after we begin ours. The pasture and forest were quiet since the night creatures had gone back into hiding and the day creatures were waiting for sunrise. Three quarters of the way through the walk, I saw some white that didn’t appear to be plant life – it was some distance away over the fence and across the stream and I stopped to look intently. Almost immediately, five deer sprang into life and ran south into a plum copse to hide out of my sight. Then, right overhead, two great horned owls left their perch as well, so I assume that when we are out walking, there are many creatures monitoring our progress and aware of every step we take. Alphie seems fairly oblivious to deer, though he will give chase if they are close enough. I don’t think he even noticed any of the above this morning. He does point at pheasants and quail from fairly large distances, and then leaps through the grasses to send them flying out in all directions – Charles feels that it must be an ongoing disappointment that we don’t fling guns to our shoulders and begin to shoot since it is evident that this dog was bred to be a hunter of game birds.

In this beautiful September, our fall asters have determined to be the centerpieces of our yard. All of them are wild, and came up at their own discretion, so hidden beneath them in the flower beds are resigned sedum, marigolds, and various other plants likely wishing that these interlopers would fall down and expire. We are delighted at the exuberance and color, and bees, moths and butterflies are also enjoying the blooms while they last.

My white blood cells held on this week, so continued days of delight and no therapies. Next Tuesday is the day of the bone marrow aspiration, so there will be more information about what is happening after the marrow is sent to the Med Center in Omaha and analyzed. Every time I go into the Internet and check out the information about MDS again, it tells a rather grim story, but perhaps one day soon my trajectory will become the rule rather than the singular event it appears to be at this time. I have now had MDS for one year and nine months, and today I can say once again, “Life is good, Hallelujah!”

This is the sixteenth day of feeling fine and we have been entertaining friends, going to concerts and enjoying life. Alphie has behaved nicely throughout though he did decide to drag me into the veterinarian’s office when I took him there for his annual shots. I was reminded that this is one huge and powerful dog; I flew through the front door at the end of the leash without much dignity – once inside, Alphie remembered that this was not really his favorite destination, and turned around with the intent of returning from whence he came, but we quickly closed the door of the examining room where, defeated, he lay down and sighed hugely, resigned to his fate and looking at the vet with those very sorrowful eyes. He was far more sedate as we left, but I realized that I failed the truly-in-control owner’s test in spite of thinking calm thoughts which the dog supposedly can read. Perhaps the term “Wretched brute” doesn’t work even if it is thought in gentle, measured tones.

Autumn advances with leaves beginning to turn yellow on some of the trees. The crickets are still sounding forth though the cooler mornings mean that their cadences are a bit slower than in the late afternoons. Charles announced that the annual visit of a vole in his organ teaching room at the music building occurred and that, just like last year, the student who was receiving the lesson was unnerved by the sight. Charles grabbed the wastepaper basket and upended it over the creature and announced that they were now safe, and he would get someone from Buildings and Grounds to remove the interloper after the lesson. The maintenance people were duly contacted and yes, they would come over and take care of it, however, before they arrived, and before Charles got a note posted, “Mouse under here”, the janitor came through, looked at the upended wastepaper basket and took steps to correct the matter, likely thinking thoughts about the habits of musicians in general and students in particular. More dismay as the vole made a successful dash into the pipe work of the organ. Charles has requested catch and release traps because the suggested sticky paper route is a distasteful way to deal with the problem.

My white blood cells continue a downward count, and now at 1.8, they have been termed “Low Critical”. It’s back to thinking about hand washing and other people sneezing, etc. I remember when this happened at the beginning, we were quite undone – now, it is a recurring part of the pattern. On October 2nd a bone marrow aspiration will return me to the cancer arena, but for now, I will enjoy these lovely days as the gifts of time and life that they are for me.