Leukemia. Not a word I ever thought would be in my vocabulary. My story begins in mid-July with a routine physical, and normal blood work, including a CBC, cholesterol, glucose, etc.......all of the normal tests that always come back within normal range, or close to it. However mine was returned showing that my white count was around 1.8 (which is really 1800, but reduced to a decimal on lab tests). A normal WBC range is 4.0 to 10.0. Leukopenia is the term used to describe a low white blood count, and it can be due to many causes, most of them quite benign. Some of the more common causes may include infection (viral or bacterial), arthritis, vitamin deficiency, or medication. In my case, my GP suggested that it might be related to medication and suggested that I reduce my dosage of Paxil from 20 mg daily, to 10 mg. After three weeks, a re-test was ordered. My white count had risen to 2.7 and it appeared that we might be on track to identifying the cause of my leukopenia. We continued this course for another few weeks, re-ran the lab work, and were surprised to see that the white count had reverted to a 1.7. At this time it was recommended that I make an appointment with a hematologist.
That was done on October 1, 2007. More extensive lab work was ordered, all with negative results. I continued to feel in perfect health, with excellent lab results. The only anomaly was the leukopenia. A precautionary bone marrow aspiration and biopsy was performed on October 12th. I received a phone call three days later from my hematologist asking to see me that afternoon. I was told that, to his amazement, and that of the pathologist who performed the biopsy, that the preliminary results revealed that I had Acute Myelogenous Leukemia, or AML. My hematologist informed me that this type of leukemia required specialized attention. He said he had already conferred with an old friend, another hematologist/oconologist associated with Moffitt Cancer Hospital. This was unexpected news. All of the fears, anxiety, and disbelief that you've read about hit me all at once. Why me? The tests must be wrong! How am I going to handle this? Will my life ever be normal again? So many questions, so few answers. It was a day almost too overwhelming to describe. At some point you realize I need a plan of action. That plan included my Wednesday appointment with the oncologist. In the meantime, my husband Tony and I agreed that we would not use the Internet to research AML. There would be too much information, much of which may not apply to my case, and the added stress was not welcomed. So we resisted and kept the appointment. The doctor said, almost immediately, "you need to be in the hospital". He wanted to admit us to Moffitt, but that is not an easy task. Moffitt is one of the most respected cancer hospitals in the Southeast U.S., and demands for a room are great. The oncologist said it may take many days before a bed would be available.
The next day at 6:30 P.M. we received the unexpected call......."we have a room for you". I was shocked at the quick call, and not nearly ready to go. I asked if admission could be delayed until morning and they said the room would be gone by then. This was just three days after receiveing the news, and one day after meeting with the oncologist.
At midnight on October 18, 2007 I was admitted to Moffitt Cancer Hospital to begin my journey to better health. At this point, I still felt fine, and had no symptoms, and exhibited none of the 'early warning signs'.
The next day, Friday 10/19, was a whirlwind of activity. They took me down to radiology for a heart exam at 09:00, then to the surgical room at 1:00 P.M for another bone marrow biopsy, and finally a port was inserted into my chest at 4:00 P.M. for easy administration of I.V. and chemo drugs. I had no food or drink for the entire day.
On Saturday I was approached about the possibility of entering into a Clinical Trial. More on that next edition.
Took a little white pill and am feeling better now. They don't allow me aspirin or Tylenol since it affects my true temperature, and fever tracking is very important at this stage of the chemo. We just went for a stroll around the 4th floor, just the three of us (me, Tony, and my IV pole). There are large windows that encompass the front of the hospital so we sat for a while so I could remember what the outside looks like. It's gloomy here today with a few drizzles. 
I'm not ready for any jumping jacks, but I can get out of bed without feeling light headed. I'm still tired, but much improved from yesterday. I hope to feel better tomorrow so that I can watch the USF Bulls play U. Conn. Since the hospital is on the USF campus, there are a lot of Bull supporters walking the halls. Go Bulls.
