On the beaches of Sicily

I've just finished making my through a book on what I suppose might be the Mediterranean theater of WWII. The book focused on the US efforts in North Africa and Italy all leading up to the allied invasion of Normandy.

What struck me as I read the accounts of the early battles was just how steep and important the learning curve was for the US forces, and even more notably, how complicated. Each time the US hopped from continent to continent to establish a new front against the Germans there was a need to 'come ashore'. Infantry and tanks were packed into boats and deposited on the beach. So much care and planning was taken to try and make certain that the troops could just overcome the odds enough to get to that point--establishing a beach head. It was very evident from the portrayal I was reading, that failure on this point rendered consideration of any other operations moot.

Late yesterday afternoon I received a call from Doctor Connolly. I had almost forgotten that she owed me some news and before I could even register who was on the phone with me she had alerted me that my bone marrow biopsy had come back CLEAN! The sense of relief I felt at that realization was something so unique to me that I won't soon forget it. After confirming with her what I was hearing I hung up the phone I did an embarrassing jig or two, let out a yell and set about calling family. Needless to say we are all relieved and overjoyed to get this news--between the CT Scan results and the bone marrow biopsy I could not have asked for a better outcome for the results of just half of my treatment protocol.

Wiping out the cancer from my lymph nodes and my bone marrow is like hitting the beaches of Sicily (in WWII, not today, I assure you). So much energy, thought, planning, and effort has gone into making that happen that in hindsight it almost seems now like success was a foregone conclusion. But what if . . .

I'd like to thank everyone who has done anything to sustain my family and I throughout this. We have not had nearly the opportunities to say thank you as we'd like and so we are left to hope that all of you know how thankful we are. Even more importantly, I'd like to invite you all to keep up with me on my blogs. My clean scans are a start, not an end. For all who have remarked on my spirit or attitude, understand that I have drawn considerably from the influence of those around me.

And so now we've landed--the work isn't done and the battle, let alone the war, is not over. I've got three more rounds of chemo to pour into my system and between now and then the team at Hopkins, my family, and I will work on the remaining steps to make certain that cancer does not return.

So now that we're standing on the beaches of Sicily, who's going inland with me?

--Russ.