Trained Natural Killers

I have to admit, this feels a little weird.  For the last few weeks, a little part of myself stayed in Mexico.  Not the metaphorical sense either--some actual cells stayed behind to be cultured and trained, and yesterday, we were reunited.  

952 million natural killer cells and 421 million dendritic cells in a 50mL vial with the contents labelled: Emily Sorensen.  A vial of my cells, all exposed to various environments and trained to find and kill my specific type cancer cells.  They've been well taken care of and kept very busy.  

The report card: A+

The science, honestly, is a little beyond me, which is hard to admit.  Language hasn't typically been a barrier, but sometimes the translation of very sciencey science terms can get a little muddy.  But, what I do know...a satisfactory number of NK/dendritic cells from a culture is 50 million, and the royal "we" made 952 million and 421 million.  I mean, this isn't sports, but if it were...

And now, we wait.  I'll continue with my naturopath to keep on track, but ultimately, it's up to me now to use what I've been given and do the work.  The end of February will be the next imaging, at which point, things should be looking significantly different.  So, I won't have confirmation of #cancerfreechristmas before Christmas, which is the tiniest bit of a bummer, but we should be well on the way by then.  

#(almost)cancerfreechristmas will have to do.

Bagel bite, not to be forgotten, should theoretically respond, too.  I think if I wasn't comfortable with waiting, they would treat it sooner with microwave ablation or PDT again, but it's small and has been unchanged for quite awhile, so I'm interested in seeing how it responds with the immunotherapy, too.  For all we know, it could be scar tissue at this point, so BB gets to be a little mysterious thing for a bit.  

Pretend there's a seamless and clever segue here.  

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is one of my all-time most adored books.  There's a lot in that story that I think about more often than I probably give credit, but this part especially:

“I like to see people reunited, I like to see people run to each other, I like the kissing and the crying, I like the impatience, the stories that the mouth can't tell fast enough, the ears that aren't big enough, the eyes that can't take in all of the change, I like the hugging, the bringing together, the end of missing someone.”

It was on my mind last night, as I was watching everyone get picked up at the airport.  (The dogs completely losing their marbles are the best) It's always been one of my top 3 favorite things--the end of missing someone.  While I've always thought about "someone" being "someone else," someone also became myself on this trip.  Being reunited with small, but mighty 50mL of myself that can heal from incredibly rare, aggressive, malignant stage 4 cancer.  My team is excited, I'm excited.  It's the end of missing someone.

The last Mexican sunset for now


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