Yesterday was a test day: portogram and bone marrow biopsy. I had to be up at the crack of dawn because check-in time was 7 AM, except dawn didn’t crack. We had pitch-dark skies and thunder showers for the trip to the hospital. Just to liven things up and add an ominous note, as we approached the final turn before the hospital, a transformer blew. The first flash blinded, followed by another boom and sparks like fireworks, only at ground level. At that point, I wondered whether it was an omen for how the tests would go.

At the beginning of my cancer journey, after my first infusion treatment round and before my second, I happily had a port installed. My veins are small and squirrelly, and most of the time, the back of my hand has to be used to put in an IV. So I’ve had the same port since 2013 and it has worked like a champ. The nurses were concerned about accessing the port because it hadn’t been flushed in the past few years due to remission and being between oncologists. They didn’t think they’d be able to pull blood, but I had a feeling it would despite the length of time it had been in and lack of use.

Once again, my port came up trumps. No problem at all in either accessing it or drawing blood. It is still in remarkably good shape. Except for one thing. When they did the X-ray, they injected it with contrast to watch how the flow was to ensure no kinks. There weren’t any kinks, but there was a film of tissue surrounding the bottom like a wrapper on a straw. Kind of like a thin clot over the opening, which didn’t stop the liquid from going out, but it came out, up the sheath that is forming, and then out into my system.

As explained to me, there are two potential ways to address the issue. Option 1 is to drip a clot-dissolving substance through the port for 5 hours to dissolve the sheath. Option 2 is surgery to replace the port. They asked me which I preferred. My response: whichever my oncologist feels is best. This morning, I spoke with my oncology nurse and the route we’re going to take is port replacement.

My platelets have struggled to stay near the normal range throughout my treatment regimes. Despite my prior CBC showing platelets actually IN the normal range (a rarity), they have fallen since having the tumor and the risk of bleeding is too great for attempting to dissolve the sheath. This is why I wanted the oncologist to weigh in on which direction. They are working on the scheduling, but it means I don’t have to travel for over an hour each way to have a 5-hour procedure—we’ll call that a win.

I’ve saved the best news for last. No mutating cells in the results from the bone marrow biopsy. I didn’t expect the results until tomorrow or Thursday, so was pleasantly surprised to find they had already been posted. All indicators are that the leukemia is still controlled and the tumor is localized rather than systemic. Woooo hoooo!!!!