Electra & AML: Last Chemo Ever, For Better or Worse

(See all posts related to Electra's ongoing treatment)

So today was a rather significant milestone in this particular journey (well technically yesterday since I seem pathologically unable to get to bed at a decent hour ever). Today was Electra's last day of anti-AML chemotherapy. Ever.

The FLAG protocol that Electra is (was) on is a five-day course, and today was the fifth day. She is, of course, still in the hospital undergoing treatment, but that's more focused on the growth hormone to boost her red cell count, as well as the various prophylactic measures (antibiotics and anti-virals). The active application of chemotherapy is done. Further, this will be her last cycle in treatment of this disease. She will never have to undergo chemo again, barring (heaven forbid) the emergence of a different cancer later in life. Other than that, no more chemo. Buh-bye, thanks for the cancer-killing, no thanks for the immune system killing, the nausea, the hair loss and energy deprivation and the complete immunosuppression.

Of course, such a milestone as this is both relieving in one way, and foreboding in another. Allow me to explain. As this course of chemo comes to an end, the future forks into two distinct paths: curative or not. If she beats the odds and this course of treatment cures her, obviously she will no longer need the chemo. However, the ominous portend is that should this treatment fail, and the cancer relapse again, there are no real options. The chemo would never be successful again, no other realistic chemo options exist and her body would be hard-pressed to stand the strain. So the milestone is one we celebrate and observe, but with some trepidation.

The past year has been one of pain and suffering, fear and isolation, but love and hope as well; to preserve the latter, we are aiming for and hoping for a cure. But a frequent theme has been chemotherapy, and it is an amazing realisation to come to: she will not have to go through this again. Chemotherapy is very effective in many cancers, including blood and bone cancers. But it's a treatment so harsh and hard to deal with that it can often feel worse than the disease itself. So seeing it out the door is a cause for celebration, and is a victory in its own right.

I've said before (or meant to and forgot, possibly) that when dealing with a long trudge of a disease and treatment like this, that every victory, no matter how minor, matters. And this victory, though by no means the end of the struggle, is a key one. We needed the chemo, and it has kept her alive this long, but we never liked it. Chemotherapy is like cutting off your nose to spite your face; you poison yourself to get well.

So today, I saw, goodbye chemo. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out. I appreciate everything you've done but hope I never see you again. And I'm reassured to know that, come what may, Electra certainly won't have to.