Standing at the gates

I never thought today would come. I daren't even dream about what happened today. After 5 months of standing at the gates of hell, today we turned around, closed the gate, and started to look for a way of securing the lock. For those of you who are struggling with today's metaphor and haven't realised, Vicki is home. And when I say home, I don't mean for a short period of leave and respite. I mean for good, as in discharge. No longer an in-patient. No longer a prisoner of the 4th floor of Leicester Royal Infirmary. No longer a soldier of fortune hiding in the Los Angeles underground. Oh no, sorry, hang on, that's the A-Team. What I meant to say was no longer a soldier of fortune being pursued by a army of cancerous leukocytes ruthlessly chasing her down. (You see, the A-Team analogy does work!)

However, despite the euphoria of the occasion, like the A-Team, whilst this time we've won the battle, there are more to come. However, the worst is over. There is one more lumbar puncture and bone marrow sample to be taken. Assuming this is clear, then monthly check-ups. Again assuming these are fine, then a number of years will elapse before we can finally lock the gates, welding the bars, and placing large rocks over the entrance. With Leukaemia though, there are no guarantees, and of course as I mentioned earlier in the year, the treatment itself can be carcinogenic. But for now, let's celebrate the end of phase 1, Operation Remission.