Chemo #4 and Some Really Great News

Susan about to board Doug's car, pumped and ready for her chemo. Go and get some, Susan!




It’s been March since I attended one of Susan’s chemos. The last time I went I was pushing Susan in a wheelchair trying to maneuver her in the elevators, around people and corners. This morning she strolled from the car to the doctor’s office using a walker. But once she was signed in, she got up with ease from her chair to the receptionist desk and back, into the examination room, and finally to the party room without it. I was amazed to see such a change in her in this setting.

The nurses took her blood for testing. I had no doubts whatsoever that today would be chemo day. Susan always has her doubts each time she goes, or at least, carries with her the possibility that it could be delayed. I didn’t have any doubts today. I could tell by the color of her face and her eyes that her numbers were right.

Sure enough, the nurse’s assistant read the numbers to us:

Her hemoglobin was 9.2. The last reading was 8.7.
Her platelets were at 198. The last reading was 139.
Her white blood cells were at 7.4. The last time she was tested she was 1.3.

Dr. Nguyen came into the room saying “Wow, did you see these numbers?”

Did you read that right? We got ourselves a “wow” from this very reserved oncologist. Not only a “wow” but a laugh of astonishment and a big smile from him that surprised even me. I’ve heard that he can smile. I’ve seen him grin when Susan cracked a joke. But a smile from him was like a blue ribbon for the finest tasting pecan pie – it was a reward duly earned after so much went into making it happen. I was amazed to see it myself. To say he was pleased with her results wouldn’t do the moment justice.

He patted me on the shoulder said laughingly and said, “she’s doing great.”

He proceeded to examine Susan and announced that that she wouldn’t need a blood transfusion tomorrow; which it was routine for Susan to go for chemos on Wednesdays and blood transfusions on Thursdays. Not this time. She’ll still need her mother to give her shots to keep her red and white blood cells, but extra pints of blood won’t be necessary.

He’s also changing her chemo to two different types. She’ll endure less of the negative side-effects and the medicines will focus on the cancer cells themselves, and not healthy ones. This is so promising. This is the chemo he’s been waiting to use, but was waiting for her white blood cells to be at the level they are now in order to that. In a couple of months he’ll consider giving her a pet scan. Now it wasn’t necessary since it was evident that Susan’s responding well to the treatment.

Upon leaving, he said in passing to us “she’s getting better and better every day.” Which surprised me; his comments paralleled Susan’s anthem of “I’m getting stronger and stronger every day.” I have no doubts in Susan’s commitment to beat this thing.


We proceeded to the party room and Susan received her chemo. She was in good spirits. She drank pomegranate and Fritos.

I stand beside Susan as she receives her chemo. If someone had offered me a donut my smile would have been wider. But no, nobody did. So this is all you get.

The nurses give Susan a thumbs up. They are great people. I hope the doctors give them raises soon. They deserve them.

After we returned, I went to work and Susan and her parents went to Le Madelaine for lunch. This was her first sit down meal at a restaurant. And in spite of the awkward stares and the encouraging smiles, Susan didn’t feel self-conscious about her appearance – and no reason that she should have. She’s beautiful and quite powerful.

Susan and Kay eating Le Madelaine's foo-foo grub.

I do have to admit, the restaurant's pastries do look good from here. I doubt anybody will bring me anything.

Here's Susan and Doug completely replete from a good meal. And look, Susan's bringing me a big bag of nothing.

All of this good news and Susan's apparent recovery goes to show you that your prayers and wishful thinking has the power to subdue the monster who is obviously failing to bring down Susan, and they have the power to make a reserved oncologist smile, too. Please keep it up.

Thank you all.

Ray