Here We Are Now

It’s a cliché, but there really are moments that imprint themselves on us.

These can range from the obvious (getting married at the Nubble Lighthouse) to the beautiful (watching nephew Corbin slide out of his mom, my sister, followed by a rainbow placenta) to the indescribably important, like having stem cells from Germany blessed before they’re delivered to their new host, the Baddass Warrior Panda Goddess Julie Moser.

A video of that moment is embedded in this page, but it’s fused to our DNA, both literally and metaphorically. What you might have missed if you only watched the video:

• Randy and Julie greeting the cells in characteristic ways, Randy saying about the first bag, “it’s so small” and Julie cooing “it’s so pretty.” (As though it were a tribble from the original Star Trek.)

• The odor that immediately seeped out of all of Julie’s pores, a cross between tomato soup and raw beef, a result of the preservatives added to cells to keep them alive during the long trip across the Atlantic. But, really, the smell of life.

• Julie radiating gratitude, joy, and excitement; Randy emitting worry and anxiety, stroking his wife’s head like a pet hedgehog, trying to stay out of frame as he cried manly – nay, MACHO – tears.

Time moves strangely in a cancer ward, and more days have passed since the last blog post than we would have liked, but we’ve been mostly hanging out and playing black jack or talking about Pragmatism or the Shakers and the necessity for love, kindness and generosity. The baddass is even doing well enough to gloat after card games.

Julie finished what we hope will be her last bag of chemo this morning with a slurp, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and let out a belch like a Yeti. We now wait to see how low her blood counts will get and whether the herculean effort she put into her mouth these last six months will avert mucositis and / or thrush.

We’ve had multiple long sit-downs with the attending doctor (Dr. Hill), who has been very kind and very patient. Our Oncologist (Dr. Hayes) had told us that remission rates following a transplant are very rare – waaay below 10%, she said – and Dr. Hill told us today that Julie could not be doing better, so we’re hopeful that we have left cancer behind, but we’ll be vigilant for the rest of our lives.

Following the next two week’s hard chemo recovery, our most immediate concern will be the possibility of infection (Julie’s immune system will not be back to full for at least two years) and graft vs. host disease, a condition that develops when these ‘pretty,’ ‘small’ new cells find themselves in another body entirely and misreads it as an enemy.

The chemo Julie concluded today is a fairly recent advancement designed to keep these vibrant new cells in line, and many of the common side effects can be addressed through medications. We continue to marvel at the Dartmouth-Hitchcock scientist who can figure this dance out and explain it to English majors.

Worried monkey husbands have no place in that world of hard numbers, and Baddass Warrior Panda Goddesses are too cool for that negative shit. Julie’s new catchphrase – you betcha! – perfectly captures the way she embraces whatever comes.

Other news and adaptations

Negotiating the comfortably tight confines of the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Hilton room has given Julie a chance to master parkour, spinning from her chair to one corner of the bed to the bathroom as the urge hits her, all while connected to three or four lines. (Pickle Rick eat your heart out.)

As some of you might know, Randy and Alvin have been spending time in the area. Alvin (the World’s Most Interesting Dog) has had to adapt fairly quickly to stairs that are not exactly designed to fit his unique body style:

Once again, we are eternally grateful to y’all for coming with us on this journey. We got here, now we just need to wait to see what comes in the next 100 days.