“I’ll stop now…”

“I’m going to stop talking now!” Finally. She had been leaving a voice message to her friend for 20 minutes. Loud. Long-winded. In the middle of the waiting room. I was hesitant to speak to her about it. I would have done that too if she hadn’t ended it herself at that moment and the professor had already called me. This time everything went so quickly. He came, saw me, took me straight in. And after our conversation he left the outpatient clinic. He had obviously only come because of me, because a sign on the door actually said that the private outpatient clinic was closed today. Now I was sitting there, he scrolling through my latest blood results. We need all of them again. He doesn’t like the B cells. Because they aren’t there. No immune system. But it’s still okay. Patience. And then palpate again. Every single lymph node. All normal. Nothing enlarged. What do we do now?

"As long as you're well, you're now in 'wait and watch'. Yaaaay! My heart is racing because I know what that means. I've wanted to achieve this status for 1.5 years now. Finally! No chemo for now, no more stem cell transplants. Plasmapheresis only for acute attacks. I couldn't get out of the room fast enough. But I had to wait again. For the blood sample. I was so euphoric that I didn't even care that she didn't follow the right order with the tubes, that she put all three samples in warm containers even though that wasn't necessary, that she didn't drain the congestion before she pulled out the needle, and that she didn't even swirl the EDTA around. No matter. Because I'm "going to stop" worrying about therapies every day.

Because I'm waiting and watching now!