And then One Day

Written this morning by Peter in response to the latest News

 

And then one day

you saw through

the drizzle, the fog-

bound gloom

and what you knew

as huge gray

boulders, unleashed

from the towering

mountain and

pounding down

towards us on

this narrow

path

were really

thousands

of iridescent

hummingbirds

in wild play,

thriving

together

and falling

deeper

in love with

the sun's

sparkling

warmth.

Peter J. Lautz

January 17, 2014

You will see the beauty of these hummingbirds in their "wild" play, as you read on!

On Monday of this week, as you all know, they found 20,000 blast cells in my blood.  There should be between 1-4K.  The timing was so peculiar -- having it come up the very day I'm in the City of Hope and not only that, but actually mid-way through my first treatment, that I could only wonder.... On the surface of my thoughts I only felt a numb a despair.  Could this be a synchronicity, unfathomable to my mind?  But what did it mean? 

By Wednesday I had made a practice of just letting go of figuring it out or wondering what the next step would be.  "My life is in Your hands."  That was my constant refrain.  My bed became the lap of Divine Mother and I've been able to let go during the whole night, in peace and most of the day.

Then a big surprise.  Another sharp twist on this roller coaster! Peter and I went for my appointment with Dr. Polikoff yesterday.  I had my blood drawn beforehand to check the status of the blasts. Had they increased? They proliferate very fast and in weeks can block out all other blood cells,  The only thing I had done since Monday was to have a low dose chemo drug called fludarabine and to go on decadron, a powerful steroid that kills leukemia. Somehow between Monday and Thursday, the blast cells had disappeared! Poof!  We will not know with complete certainty whether my bone marrow is clear of cancer until the week January 27; if all clear the transplant resumes...

But who knows?  Maybe the next drug in the clinical trial is necessary for my complete cure.  So bone marrow relapse or not, I'm at peace with just being a traveler on this meandering road and watching in awe the wild swings and deep valleys and also the peaks when good news comes, like yesterday.  But through it all, I'm learning, oh so hard at times, to stay as neutral as I can and not be attached to results, since if there's one thing I'm learning, there as slippery as a wet live and spunky fish in my hands.  There is just no way to hold on.

Having said that, I'm still human and it wouldn't be truthful if I didn't say I felt the weight of the universe off my shoulders last night at yesterday's news.  I have two more blood tests coming up this week and a bone marrow biopsy the following week, plus a CSF test.  What will the results be?  Will they change and reveal more blast cell? Will it have come back into my CSF making me have to consider whole brain radiation again?  So much can happen. Quiet now my thoughts.  You cannot know the future. Only the present has peace.

I'm on fire these days with my art.  My website is finally getting to a place where I like it but more has to be done.  Check it out if you're inspired.  www.artisansoflight.com

If I go into the clinical trial, there's a possibility I'll need more funds.  It's a randomized trial and if I don't get the blinatumomab (the main drug under review) I would just get regular chemo and have to pay for that myself.  Medicare would pick up the tab for the blinatumomab.  But all this is for a later date -- not that far off.

The intensity of everything lately has both Peter and I a bit ragged. Your prayers for both of us are deeply appreciated.

With heart's love,

Heidi