Per Wolters Kluwer… (and the technical stuff doesn’t last long).
Acute myeloid leukemia (AML) refers to a group of hematopoietic neoplasms involving cells committed to the myeloid lineage. Acute promyelocytic leukemia (APL) is a biologically and clinically distinct variant of AML. APL was classified as AML-M3 in the older French-American-British (FAB) classification system and is currently classified as acute promyelocytic leukemia with t(15;17)(q24.1;q21.1);PML-RARA in the WHO classification system . (See “Molecular biology of acute promyelocytic leukemia”.)
In the past few months- and especially the past few weeks since a local anchorwoman died from APL, I’ve been looking back at those first weeks when I found out I had the disease. I’d gotten some routine lab work that showed some significant problems, and had to wait 2 weeks before I could see an oncologist. He wanted to do a bone marrow biopsy the following week. For those who are counting, that’s 3 weeks of the expected month to survive if the disease is untreated. I never made it to that scheduled bone marrow biopsy – I ended up in the ER the weekend before with some shortness of breath that I figured was due to the anemia (I’d seen the lab work; I was in trouble- just didn’t know what type at that time). But, I’ve got a history of some significant blood clots in my lungs, and have been told to always get anything funky in my chest checked out. Good thing I did.
So much more makes sense now, as far as why things seemed so ‘urgent’. I’d been an RN since 1985, but never dealt with blood cancers much. My mom had cancer in several sites, as did a dear cousin (of some sort- not sure the exact relation, but it’s not important). I’d worked with cancer patients who needed surgery. But I had a lot to learn when I got sick.
I had some complications- petechiae (tiny hemorrhages under the skin that can lead to systemic bleeding…and death) from low platelets, infections from my immune system being trashed, and anemia from the cancer itself. I had over 2 dozen transfusions of blood products (platelets and red blood cells). My temp went to 103 with an ear infection and cellulitis into my chin and neck. And I just sort of lied there in the bed not having much of a reaction to any of it.
I’d heard that APL has a very high cure rate, and that’s what I hung on to; I was going to be fine. Infections get fixed. Platelets get replaced. Anemia is treated. No problem. Right? I guess that degree of denial and general ignorance was helpful at the time. I had very little anxiety. I laughed a LOT at ‘America’s Funniest Videos’, and tried to stay upbeat. Now, I realize how close I came to buying the farm. I was already circling the drain. But I was fortunate. I got a chance to get well. The anchorwoman in town had two days between diagnosis and death. That was it. Her friends and family were left with so many questions and a degree of shock that rips at the core.
I have to admit, I’m more skittish when something comes up that isn’t ‘right’. I wonder what my blood counts are when I’m feeling tired. I wonder if various aches and pains ‘mean’ something (I’ve got fibromyalgia- I’ve always got aches and pains, and the only thing THAT means is a royal pain in the butt). I wonder if I’ll relapse before that ‘magic’ five-year mark (April 2015). I wonder what the plan will be if I do.
I’m not generally a morbid person (a bit macabre sometimes with a typical nurses’ sense of humor). But I don’t think about dying much. I’ve got a strong faith in God, and belief in Heaven, so death doesn’t scare me. That being said, I don’t want to die. My dog needs her heart meds. My dad is still around. I’ve got some dear family members I haven’t known that long and don’t want to ‘leave’.
I’ve become even more thankful for being diagnosed when I was. I’m thankful that the oncologist I was assigned to (at random from the ER admission) was familiar with APL and the current treatments to get the best possible outcome. I’m thankful I had a chance.