Radiation Therapy and T-Cell Collection
I’m in my happy place. Sitting out on pandemic-bought patio furniture on a Spring day with my dogs mostly behaving. Over the last few years, this has become my oasis - at least for 6 months of the year. There’s something about seeing the grass and trees, hearing the birds and the sound of a far-off lawn mower; the occasional shriek of kids playing a few doors down. It calms me down and lets my mind rest.
I’m done with radiation - 10 treatments done - and the most pronounced lymph node has retreated back into invisible mode. Who knows if there are still cancer cells lurking there but soon, we’ll begin the CAR T-cell process to deal with them if they are.
Where To Begin
This post from six weeks ago details how I went from writing a post about the two-year anniversary of my allogenic stem cell transplant to where I am today.
Throughout the radiation therapy, my body has been a compliant host. I was prepared for a sore throat or other mild issues from the radiation but as of four days post treatment, I’ve been spared any side effects, except for some mild fatigue. Perhaps the biggest challenge was the 15 minutes of being strapped into the mask.
The radiation is very quick - not much more than a minute total - but the positioning takes a few minutes and anyone with even a modicum of claustrophobia might have a moment or two of anxiety. The rad onc team is wonderful and helpful, but I won’t miss that daily dose, nor will I miss the daily commute to Boston, which was exhausting in and of itself.
Yesterday, they harvested my T-cells, collecting my blood. As with the radiation thereapy, the collection was uneventful - the biggest challenge being that I couldn’t leave the chair even for a trip to the rest room, problematic even if I hadn’t been max hydrating for the last four weeks. Four-plus hours of sitting in a chair with my arm as motionless as possible, and needles in both arms - collecting my blood, filtering out the T cells and then returning the rest of the blood to me. That in itself is a somewhat remarkable technology. But then the real magic happens, when they reengineer those t-cells with a chimeric antigen receptor — essentially teaching those cells to seek out and destroy my lymphoma cells.
The process begins late June, starting with a couple days of chemo (less intensive, I’m told, than what I did pre-transplant) and then a couple of days rest at home. Then back into Boston for the infusion of those re-engineered CAR T-cells, with the hope that maybe, just maybe, this time we destroy the lymphoma once and for all.
—Michael
ps - For some thoughts on why I’ve struggled to share the news a bit more broadly until now, I published this post about a month ago.
there is healing in the yard and garden. My 'big' surgery was about 5 hours long. In Ann Arbor, an hour down the road. By the time we got home in early evening, I really had to pee. I walked in the door, still woozy from anesthesia, right past the bathroom, and out in the back yard, where I proceeded to pee against a big maple. Cath asks," What are you doing?" "Peeing." "Outside?Against a tree? The bathroom is right here." "Dunno, just feels better out here than inside."
Michael-Sending warm thoughts to you for a very successful CAR T treatment. Which one are you doing? After 10 years of constant treatment and a SCT-the Carvtky CAR T is what finally put me in remission. I'm praying you will have the same miraculous results!