My Leukaemia Story - Part 5

Hi guys! I'm back!
Sorry that I havent been able to continue my story sooner, but I have been rather poorly over the last few days. I have lost my hair (something to be expected with the chemo I am taking), and I have been having to use a wheelchair to go anywhere, as I have been sufferering with severe joint pain. I have been taking Morphine for it, so I'm away with the fairies most of the time. The joint pain is nothing to worry about though, its a common side-affect to a drug I am taking. Also, today I have noticed a massive improvement, so hopefully it will have completely gone within the next few days... but I'll keep you posted.
Before I say anything else I want to thank everybody who has been reading this blog. It means SO MUCH to me that people take an interest in what has happened over these last few years. I am extremely thankful to everybody who has been suggesting this site to their friends and families. Hopefully the rest of my story will be just as interesting as what you have read so far and will give you even more reason to spread the word.
Anyway, the moment you've probably been waiting for, its time to go back to this story of mine.
When Maintenance Therapy started, I had extremely high expectations. I had been told that it was much lower doses, so I would be feeling much better. I expected to feel well enough to do normal things, like school, playing football, seeing friends... normal stuff.
However, throughout the first few months I didn't really notice any difference. I think I was expecting too much too soon. I had been on high dose treatment for at least a year, so it was bound to take some time for my body to recover from the effects of it. But I became increasingly frustrated, because I wanted to feel normal, but I didnt. I still felt tired, sometimes sick, and my constant low blood counts served as a reminder that my body was still in a pretty weak state.
Things did get better, I started to get back to school, to see my friends. I was starting to be able to enjoy myself. I had started to achieve better in school again, I couldn't believe it. I remember handing in my first piece of english coursework, thinking that a C would be a great achievement for me. When the teacher handed me my work, and I opened the page not to a C, but to an A*... lets just say it was a miracle I didn't fly off the back of my chair! All the effort I had put in whilst I was feeling really ill, it was all worth it.
I started to go to football training, which was brilliant. I didn't go to play football with any intentions of getting in a team, I just love football, so I wanted to play. Some of my best friends went to training too, so it also gave me a chance to see my pals. I eventually managed to persuade my brother to go along too, so that was cool. When he did go, he enjoyed it... he was just affraid of getting shown up by my mega skills ;) .
I was having routine lumbar punctures every 3 months at GOSH (which was much better than once a week, like on the intensive treatment). Things were going well, I had been set a date for my treatment to finish. The end of it all. The moment I had been looking forward to for so long.
On the 5th March, it was time for another routine lumbar puncture, with my sights set on the finish line, it was one less hospital visit to worry about. When I had my procedure, I even told a joke as I was being knocked out. I woke up afterwards feeling well, I was relieved that it was out of the way. Later that day, my parents were called away to a room, by a doctor. I didnt know about it at the time, as I was having a drug which meant I had to be isolated for half an hour.
After my isolation, I was called into the room to join my parents with the doctor. I wasn't prepared for what I was about to be told. The look on my doctors face said it all. My leukaemia had relapsed (returned). They had found cells in my spinal fluid.
I had let my guard down completely, I was thinking I was near to the finish. I felt so well. I was playing football and doing well at school. I walked through the hospital feeling numb, even the nurses looked emotional. One of them came over and gave me the biggest hug ever. It was as though the 3 years I had spent fighting the disease had all been for nothing.
The next section to my story will be about how I came to terms with this news, and what it meant to my treatment plans.
Andrew
:)