They took her in an hour early! She whined a little, but she went down like a champ! I'm so proud of my brave girl! One of Sarah's doctors came in and explained what we're looking for, and what could possibly happen next. Even if we see good results in the marrow, that thing on her back could be a cluster of leukemia cells and that could still be considered a relapse, so they still want to biopsy that. Antibiotics should have kicked in by now, and it really doesn't look any better, so it's doubtful that it's something small, like a clogged pore. I hate this part, the being without my daughter part, the waiting and seeing part. I can't protect her here, although I know she is in the best possible hands, at the best hospital, with the best doctors, nurses, the best child life specialist who vowed to stay with her as much for my peace of mind as for Sarah's, and the best stealth ninja anesthesiologist who gives Sarah the meds so quickly and without ceremony that she doesn't even notice! Still, the hardest thing in the world is to leave her behind, to turn away from her and walk down the hall by myself to wait in her room.
So, the thing on her back. Basically what they're telling me is that even if the bone marrow looks good, that thing on her back, could be a chloroma, also called a myeloid sarcoma, a cluster of leukemia cells. So either the bone marrow or the chloroma or both could show signs of relapse. Even if the marrow looks good, the chloroma could be a sign in and of itself that the treatment was unsuccessful. The doctor said that either way she is looking into the Interferon, to be given alone since they already gave her all of the donor cells that they had, and she just got them recently. She said there is encouraging data (that was the term she used), so I guess if we are not granted a miracle today, then there is still hope. Where there is life, there is hope. I read that in a book recently, I think it was Anne of the Island ( I know they are Youth fiction, but they are still my all time favorites, and there is something so simplistic and beautiful about the writing that it calms me, takes me back to when I was twelve and life was simple). And there is so much life left in this little girl. She is weakened, yes, but there is so much more she wants to see and do, the world at five years old is just starting to open up to her, and she means to live.
Her procedure is over now, and she is still sleeping off the last of the ketamine. It was a long night for her, and no doubt she is tired. I am trying not to think. About anything. I am going to have a sandwich. Maybe string Sarah's Beads of Courage, catch up on Once Upon a Time, read some more about Anne for the millionth time, and when the news comes, good or bad, well, then it comes. We will be ready.