#16 Fanny Pack

Walk in our neighborhood before heading back to MGH!

Having leukemia at this time of the war is compelling with such enormous loss and tragedy in the last week, while at the same time managing my own personal health challenge. Read more at this link:

I imagine in one way or another, we are each juggling hardships, large and small while also thinking about and worrying about the terrible situation overseas. I had helpful words from Rabbi Weiner at the JCA last week: Every struggle must be met on its own scale and in its own terms.

When I think of all the smart people working on my care and the eye-popping cost of treatment, I feel guilty. How could all these resources be better used!? When can I fully give back instead of being in this receiver mode?

Hopefully in due time! In the meantime, I am back at Fifty-Five Fruit Street taking Blinatumomab. It may be an upcoming stumper on the Scripps National Spelling Bee. Blina, as we affectionately call it, is a type of immunotherapy called a bispecific T-cell engager (BiTE). I love that my treatment BiTES! Blina attaches to T cells and cancer cells, simultaneously enabling T cells to better find and address cancer cells by bringing them closer together. As a seasoned ballroom dancer, I know the power of attraction and moving close together in effective ways. I think of that when I visualize my immune system taking this dance.

The second round of chemo I had last month was further effective, bringing my total tumor load to nearly zero. This immunotherapy will carry me the rest of the way, in preparation for a bone marrow, more appropriately called, stem cell transplant — likely at the beginning of the new year. I should have few to no effects from this drug. Each day I speak one on one to my marrow, reminding it that I just need the healthy red, white, and platelet cells to emerge. I have no need or use for any leukemic cells! I am in close communication with this body I hold so dear!

Treatment is one month long, a 24/7 flow through my very capable, flushing smooth, PICC line. Never have I loved a piece of medical equipment more — true, I can’t shower without covering it, and swimming and running are out, but the ease of taking meds and drawing blood make up for those impermanent losses. I will be back to training for triathlons when this ordeal is over, so plenty of time for the pool!