Collection

After a very uneasy week and weekend of waiting for counts to go up. And being told from several doctors perspectives that there was a good chance of being unable to collect. Which would mean no transplant, or another round of chemotherapy.

I have chosen not to post, til good news arrived. And spare all of you the drained emotions of me and my familiy. To think -- I would go through three rounds of ICE, and to find out that the chemo damaged too much bone marrow to collect. Or, to find that I would need to endure another round of chemo before BVC chemo and transplant.

It was all, a little much. And with the flooding of phone calls and emails.

I decided to post tonight, to give you all a little glimpse on what was going on.

After two whole weeks of giving myself neuprogen shots (white blood cell boosters, four times a day which results in incredible amounts of bone pain, and heading into Upenn every single day of the week for the last seven days...)
Good results, finally came in later this afternoon. We finally reached the '6' that gives us the green light to proceed with surgery and collection

So, we cross our fingers, legs, toes... that all goes smoothly tomorrow after a small transfusion, the heading into surgery for a line to be placed in my chest (for them to collect cells from), and then we pray - or send positive vibes, or whatever you and I must all do for good thoughts. In hope that collection goes smoothly tomorrow, and I collect a decent amount of stem cells.

For this to be one of the most 'easier' parts of treatment, in this six month process. I have to say... that I truly guess, nothing easy is ever worth fighting for.

Hope to report by the end of the week, that I've collected enough stem cells to proceed with transplant. Thank you for all of your caring thoughts, and concerns the last week. I truly appreciate the support.

- B

Because he wanted to laugh

He knew that the days ahead would be difficult. There were questions to be faced and a plan of action to be prepared...

It seems that even in the medical world, when you attempt to plan things. And hold onto them, plans, preparation, life, can change in an instant. You learn that when you're diganosed with cancer the first time. You tell yourself, 'wait, this is not suppose to happen right now.' You're suppose to be living, laughing, working, enjoying life without pain.

So you have to overturn that thought process. You have to learn, when you are diagnosed for the second time, how to survive treatment, cancer, and live. While most people might hide or take cover during treatment. I've learned that I must take the days, in which I don't feel pain, or I am able to get out of bed. To enjoy them. To live and laugh and cliche as that sounds. To have a life..

He knew that he should think about it. He knew also, that he would not think, because everything was clear to him already.

However, when you begin treatment, and certain dates are ingrained in your head. You hold onto them. Tightly. For cancer patients, treatment and schedules are the one thing we do hold onto, at least for me, it feel as though I have some sort of control.

So when my doctors assured me, that this week we would head into stem cell collection on the 26th which would include a small surgery, and a collection of blood and stem cells. In which later they seperate the blood from cells and freeze them util I am ready to receive these specific cells back into my body (which will be my 'transplant' day). And it would take three to four days to then collect these specific cells. Completing this part of treatment by March 26th...

I felt certain. That this is how it was going to happen. This was how it was planned.
It was a set date. A date I could hold onto.

Unfortunately. I walked into Upenn this morning to see if my stem cells were ready to be collected. They have to reach a certain 'peak' to collect a significant amount for my transplant. The number we shoot for is 6. Unfortunately, for me and my family, my number was zero. To say that this was a disappointment would be an understatement. And with that comes fear, fear of being unable to collect cells after three rounds of ICE. In which, I would ultimately, not be able to proceed as planned for the transplant. Fears, that have not even been discussed with my doctors. In addition, I am literally kicking myself for expecting things to go on time, or as planned. As a cancer patient -- this is one of my biggest lessons that I've learned.

because the plan had been set long ago..

So, as the roller coaster continues. I sit here. On a Monday evening. After enduring my third round of ICE, blood work, and a full day at Upenn. To find out that most likely, we will not begin the collection process til next Monday (March 31st) . (We will go back in Wednesday (3/26) and Friday (3/28) to double check the numbers though, in hopes that I will at least reach a 4 or 5, sometime this week). This means, the April 8th admission for transplant will not happen til a week or two later. For now, starting dates are all up in the air, dependent on collection.

and because he wanted to laugh...

You learn an incredible amount of coping mechanisms and lessons throughout three diseases, two of which focus on cancer. I would by lying if I told all of you I was not upset by this news. But I would also be lying, if I told you I was not originally upset that I was diagnosed with cancer. And as always, we come to make a choice somewhere along the line. Either, spend your energy and thoughts, wallowing in anger. Or, take the time now, to live, laugh, and focus on the good.

When specific dates have been set for collection.
I will be sure to send them your way :)

All my Love,
to all of you.

B

He knew that the days ahead would be difficult. There were questions to be faced and plan of action to be prepared. He knew that he should think about it. He knew also that he would not think, because everything was clear to him already, because the plan had been set long ago, and because he wanted to laugh. - Peter Keating, The Fountainthead, by Ayn Rand.

Goodbye Sweet ICE...

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror, I can take the next thing that comes along.'

You must do the thing, you think you cannot do"
-E. Roosevelt

And ohh baby, we just did it!

The family and I are finally home after our last infusion of ICE chemotherapy. And officially are halfway done treatment!

So..Goodbye, sweet ICE... goodbye forever.

Nothing poetic or expressed in words could ever capture the feelings within me. Except to know, that I am without any cancer in my body, and we halfway through treatment. So, instead talking about the future rounds of chemo, and transplant. you get another great bekah smile :) Because we truly need to celebrate these small but absolutely beautiful victories in this mess of a disease.





Don't be fooled, I do not look like this after treatment. But this is how I FEEL right now. So i wanted to give all of your a sense of my happiness and accomplishment for finishing up this last round of ICE.

I will update you all soon, on the next steps of the stem cell collection and transplant procedure. But for now, please just smile with me, and understand what a HUGE accomplishment it has been to complete three rounds of the most grueling chemotherapy out there. And know it was because ALL of you were cheering me on. So please keep sending good vibes that I stay out of the hospital during this round. And keep thinking of this cute little body, NOT having any cancer in it.

I kinda like the sound of that :)

Sending allll of my love possible,
to all of you.
My incredible army of cheerleaders. Who get me through, everyday.

Love,
B

Today I miss: my nan and pop
Today I smile for: ending ICE treatment
Today I am grateful for: the entire Hale family, and how much they make me smile day in and day out.
and
Today I am incredibly, incredibly appreciative of : my beautiful, beautiful, courageous mothers.

Round Three!

After clean scans on Thursday, and spending time with my two incredible friends who came up to see me this weekend. As well as my brother coming home from college. It's been a wonderful few days. Almost too wonderful, as I sit here in the hospital bed, awaiting the inevitable.

But here are some fun photos of how wide I was smiling this weekend!






As for chemotherapy, the moms and I were called in at one. It's now almost 8:00 and I haven't received anything (they're a bit behind tonight it seems). Computer systems are shut down, and we're hoping that I'll at least get my first dose of chemo before midnight.

Although, I'm a tired pup. And my body is getting weaker from this treatment. It will feel so nice on Friday to wake up from this horrid, freezing, dream of ICE.

Here's to Round Three, and all it entails.

In addition, I ask you to please, please, send your warmest wishes to one of my best friends, Darrel. He is having a node biopsied on Friday, that has recently lit up on two dirty PET scans. We pray it is nothing to be concerned about, but send positive vibes towards Cincy, OH on Friday morning.

All my Love,
to all of you,
B

Today I miss: having a normal 24 year old body.
Today I smile for: the last bit of ICE
Today I am grateful for: being cancer-free.

A perfect moment

There are very few moments in my life, where I would say they involved perfection. Or anyone's life for that matter. I think to myself over the last year how much cancer has caused pain upon my family, my friends, me. I think of how this disease has left such a sour and bitter taste in my mouth. But, in contrast, we must realize without those moments, we would not be able to acknowledge how incredible other moments are.

perfect, sweet moments.

• Tuesday...
  

On Tuesday, the 4th, I had a scheduled PET scan. A PET scan determines the metabolic activity taking place in your body. In other words, it reveals how much cancer is still active or not active. Once we received the PET results, it determines whether this form of treatment is working. If these last two months have been worth it.

• This morning...
  

I sat in a fixed corner, across the room from my mothers as they looked out at the sights of Penn tower, and I connected eyes with my lovely nurse practitioner. She knew, as well as I, that we have been desperately waiting to hear this news. And quietly sat down next to me, discussing the results. And what they revealed. I gave her a hug and walked over to the two women who have literally carried me through the last two months of treatment. And watched me at my ultimate worst and weakest.

Looking at both of them, I repeated what was said in that lovely whisper.

I am cancer free.

There is no sign of any disease.

The PET is completely negative.

To be honest, I put my arms around both of my mothers, and cried. I couldn't stop. With the help of both of them, and so many of you. I have beaten cancer for the second time. And I will hold onto this moment, in a deep place within me.

• Tomorrow, and the next day...
  

We still have a very long road ahead of us. However, for now please enjoy this news as much as I have. It is yours, as much as it is mine. For now, my family and I will bask in the glory of the these results, rest, relax, and prepare for round three of ICE, which begins Wednesday, March 12th. And ever so gently, take in, this perfect moment.

All my love
to all of you

B

Discharge

Sweetest Friends,

I was brought home last night,
today we head back to Upenn this morning for a pulmonary exam and more testing.

Just wanted to leave a quick note that the fevers have broken.
Counts are beginning to rise again.
And we are (knock on wood) out of the danger zone for this round of chemo.

Will be updating soon, with more thoughts, and more energy.

All my Love
to All of you.

B

Today I miss: sleep
Today I smile for: amazing oncology nurses
Today I am grateful for: family. family. family.

fever

Report from Bekah's mom-darlene

After a day of balancing pain medications and other pills to attempt to reduce Rebekah's crippling bone pain of the last week. Rebekah developed a fever yesterday, the high was 101.2. A little nerve-wracking since it spiked from 98.0 to 101.2 within a half hour. On advice from her oncologist, we took her to UPenn Emergency Room. She was admitted to the hospital late last night. After antibiotics, fluids, x-rays, her fever finally became stable. After a long night in the ER. She is neutropenic, which means she is very susceptible to infection. And physically, very weak. The docs are unable to identify the source of infection at the moment. Her temperature seems to rise and fall a bit since last night. As we try to keep things stable. Her Red blood cells are also low- so she will receive a blood transfusion this am.

please send positive energy her way. we will be here for a few days. trying to maintain pain, a good temp, hydration, and to clear out the infection.

-Darlene