Millie and NED- 1 Year Anniversary

This week marked the one year anniversary away from chemotherapy. A year wherein we felt untethered, literally and figuratively. As oncology kids get attached to their broviac lines, parents also get attached to the chemotherapy regimen - that we are actively attacking cancer with every weapon we've got. It is a little unnerving to let go of both and float free in trust.

We received news today that Millie has made one year off-treatment with No Evidence of Disease (NED). Her CT and Bone Scans came back normal. Actually, the bone scan came back as "improved".

Our next scan is an MRI in September- which, by the looks of the bone scan, we assume will come back clean.

Although the threat of relapse or metastasis is real, and hovering, we breathe a real sigh of relief to pass this one-year milestone.

And, as always, we are so infinitely grateful for the love, support, light, and prayers that lift us through these times. Thank you.

My Little Radioactive Burrito of Love

Today we had our first nuclear medicine scan since November. Read the post from November 10 to be reminded of the tailspin I went into back then, when the bone scan was deemed "irregular".

Although I should no longer be surprised by both the bravery of our perfect patient as well as the excellence of the Kaiser medical imaging team- still, I am nearly speechless in admiration of today's processes. We arrived in the morning to have Millie injected with the radioactive material that would record her blood activity in the afternoon's bone scan. The technician took special care to call the CT team and ensure that the IV she was starting could be saved and used for Millie's subsequent scan- limiting Millie's pokes to 1. Millie sat still, and just squeezed my hand while the IV was set and the material injected. Even with a bit of poking around trying to puncture the vein (Millie's veins are slippery escapists, according to the many pflebotomists who have attempted to conquer them), both parties were patient and calm.

After the nuclear injection, we went up to the CT Scan room for a chest scan. Millie was still, and perfectly amiable to the team who doted on her. I could not see, from my nervous parental perch inside the glass windows, any noticeable lung nodules 0n the computer screens. Deep exhale, and on to the next scan.

I was strangely calm for the bone scan (pictured above and below). Somehow I knew that it would be better- that I would not see the dark spots noting increased blood activity that marred our November scans. I was relaxed in gratitude for my daughters excellent behaviour through all this day, and relaxed by the chit-chat of the technician, and somehow nearly floating above the abyss.

I watched the monitor as it drew her legs- the screen showing bone and blood activity as a thousand points of radioactive light as the machine slowly moved her through the scanner. I watched for the areas that showed the increased uptake in November- both legs and her pelvis. And to my naked, untrained eye, it was clean. The areas were no longer prevalent, or even noticeable. Her little body is repairing itself.

See for yourself. Here is the view of today's scan (when we get official results, we'll post here):