Well. Listen to this one.

We went in early this morning for repeat labs, mostly to draw blood so they could do the necessary “type and cross” matching in the blood bank for tomorrow’s transfusion, before heading to the ultrasound.  Everything went fine with the ultrasound; before we even left, the radiologist (who usually waits to report to our oncologist before giving us any indication of how things look) said everything appeared stable since the last time — he just wanted to double check the specific measurements against previous images before issuing the final report.

So we left feeling good, we’d made it through yet another month with no new growths, ready to plod through tomorrow and then bring on the weekend. Around 4:30, I got a phone call from the hospital and I picked it up hoping it wasn’t Austin’s oncologist wanting to talk. (Whenever he starts with, “Is this a good time? Can you talk?” I get nervous.) No, it was instead his nurse practitioner, which immediately put me at ease because I know she’s not gonna be the one charged with breaking bad news.

And the very first thing out of her mouth was, “Krissy! You don’t have to come tomorrow.” Turns out our routine labs from this morning showed that Austin’s hemoglobin has started to rise on its own, barely squeaking past the threshold that requires blood. So, no transfusion, no IV, no shuffling a sick Braedan from one playdate to another, no eight to nine-hour day in the hospital. All of a sudden (did someone say, “Whoosh”?), we were handed a gift of a day. And not just any day, but a gorgeous sunny-but-not-humid 80-degree Friday before a holiday weekend.

Maybe the small-but-significant difference in hemoglobin was a fluke of the lab — one day’s blood tests looking slightly different from another day’s — or maybe, just maybe, that kidney is indeed picking up and truly beginning to heal.  Maybe we don’t need donated blood products every week or month any more. Maybe his body can do this on its own.

The final results from the ultrasound were just what we’d hoped for: no changes since the last time. And Austin’s nurse practitioner ended our conversation with a reminder to come in for labs in two weeks. Two weeks! Finally.

Advertisements