On Thursday, May 24th 2007 I received the diagnosis of Acute Myeloid Leukemia. I was a 44 year old active, practicing Equine Veterinarian. I was with my husband, John, for 17 years and we had built up a beautiful farm, breeding Thoroughbred horses. We had a nice, happy life. We had good friends that we socialized with regularly, we traveled to our second home in Florida in the winters, visited with family all over the country at times, and overall had created a life that was pretty great.
A few days before my diagnosis, my left knee had blown up with fluid. I had gone to my Orthopedic Doctor to have it looked at and have the fluid removed. I had previous surgery on that knee so I was not overly alarmed. We set up an appointment for an MRI for the 23rd. By the 23rd my knee had refilled with fluid so the Doctor took fluid off again. I also had some pinpoint hemorrhages on my arms, and legs. He said that the color of the fluid was very unusual and that I should go have some blood work at the hospital. I got that done and went home.
That evening I had one of the worst emergencies of my career and after two hours of trying to get a foal out of a young broodmare I had to give up and euthanize the poor mare. It was a tragic end to a very long and dangerous attempt to save both of their lives. It turns out it was way more dangerous for me than I could have possibly realized.
The morning of the 24th I had some work to do and then some medications to drop off at one of my clients who were also very good friends. They were shocked by the bruising on my arms and legs from the previous evening’s emergency. They were pretty dramatic. I got a phone call in the afternoon from my husband (who is also an Oncologist) that sounded very grim. My blood work was very abnormal and I needed to be admitted to the hospital immediately for more diagnostics and blood transfusions. I was to be admitted under his friend’s service, who was also an Oncologist. John and my best friend Elizabeth were at the hospital waiting for me when I arrived. I was supposed to fly out that night to go to England to celebrate one of my best friend's 40th birthday. I was thinking that’s not going to happen.
Dr. Cohen performed a bone marrow biopsy and the nurses got me set up for blood and platelet transfusions. My hemoglobin was only 7 and I only had 7,000 platelets. My spleen was greatly enlarged and I was lucky I didn’t bleed to death the night before. They did a quick preliminary look at my bone marrow biopsy and came to tell us that I had Leukemia. The look on the face of my doctor and my husband told me the seriousness of this diagnosis. My life had changed in an instant.
I asked to have a moment alone with my Doctor. I asked him, "Is this doable?" He said it was but that it would be a very difficult treatment regimen. He said my generally good health and age would be in my favor, but he did not sugar coat anything and said it would be tough. He had already contacted his friend at the University of Pennsylvania who was one of the nation’s top Leukemia doctors and a bone marrow transplant expert. Further studies would be done on my bone marrow to help decide the exact treatment necessary for my form of leukemia. The University of Pennsylvania called me and said that I was to be admitted the following Tuesday and treatment would ensue immediately. I stayed in the hospital for two days to get multiple blood and platelet transfusions.
I had a 3-day weekend to gather my wits and strength and try to come to terms with the new reality of my life and my poor husband had to do the same. I was crying and he was crying we just kept looking at each other in disbelief. He had already called many of our family and friends. He had not called his son, who lived in Virginia at the time. I called his son and blurted out that I was really sick and that his Dad was really going to need him. He said he’d be there as soon as he could. I knew he would be a comfort to my husband.
On Sunday, other friends and my brother gathered to lend hugs and support- we were all in shock. We were panicking to figure out who would take care of the horses. We had a full-time gal but we needed a second person during the week and help for the weekends. Usually we did all of that ourselves. We called everyone we could think of and friends all volunteered so we had a game plan for the first couple of weeks anyway. I would have to work on getting more help once I was in the hospital. Oh my God how could this be happening? I have received a potential death sentence. What do I do with the life that we had worked so hard to create? It couldn't be over- or could it?
Click here for Teresa's Story, Part 2.