Carl's 7 minute Biopsy

We've had a really good week.  Willie has been feeling good and doing small projects around the house.  He was excited to get a yard project done this week that has been pending for a year. He has been gathering rocks to make a flowerbed on the corner of our lot for a long time.  I admit, I have been annoyed with the growing pile of rock that has littered that back corner of our lawn without any vision of their intention.  When I would ask what they were for, I always received a "wait and see" type of response.
I waited, and this week I saw!
Will's friend and Mom came over and helped him create a masterpiece flowerbed with the stack of rocks. I know he felt better after doing it, and he has been careful to keep it watered and cared for since. 
We went back Stanford on Friday.  Our first appointment was with a surgeon named Dr. Spain.  Will has a subaceous cyst on his scalp which is a benign lump that has been there for the past 8 years.  It poses no threat to his health and he could live with it for the rest of his life, but since he is nearly bald now, the cyst is quite noticable and he wants it gone.  I thought his last doctor was arrogant, but he was no match for this surgeon! 
I knew he was trouble from the moment he waltzed in the room like he was God's gift to man.  He immediately sat in the chair, leaned back against the wall and looked at us in the same way an unconcerned teenager would.  He is probably in his mid 50's with an athletic build and a shiny bald scalp.  I thought it funny that he and Willie shared the same hairstyle though his was by choice and Will's by circumstance.  He looked  a bit like "Mr. Clean" and I imagine he shaves his head daily to remain aerodynamically correct for whatever sport he persues.
He looked us up and down before introducing himself and shaking our hands.  He then had Will remove his hat and show him the cyst
"Now what do you think that is?" He said, condescendingly to the resident student who was helping him.
The young kid shrugged then referred to the notes he had taken in our brief conversations a few minutes earlier.
"They say it's a subaceous cyst" he said, reading from the paper.
The doctor looked back at us, narrowing his eyes, as if to assess how in the world we had gained this knowledge.
"That's exactly right," he said, sounding threatened.
"We will need to remove it," he continued "It's a very easy procedure, it will only take a few minutes.  Anyone monkey could do it."
This guy was as arrogant as they come!
"Can you remove it today then?" Will asked, hopefully.
The doctor stared back at Will as if he had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world then broke out into a grating laugh.
"Of course I can't do it today," he said "I'm far to busy and these things need to be sceduled!"
"Well if it's such an easy procedure," Will said, a devilish grin spreading across his face "then we can just remove it at home.  I have power tools."
I laughed, but the doctor didn't.  He didn't know we were joking.
"Well it's not THAT easy," he backpeddled "It will have to be done in an operating room because of your recent chemo and we need to be conscious of your blood counts.  We need to be sterile."
We explained to him how we live 3 hours away and only have a two week window before the next chemo begins so NOW is the time to remove the cyst.  He turned to his calendar and said he can't fit us in until July 10th.  That only gives Will 6 days to heal before he begins chemo, but we took it because his track record of healing quickly has been good.
I entered the date into my phone calender then asked the doctor what time it would be at.
"I have no idea" he said with disgust as if time is something only peasants deal with. "I don't schedule that, my girl will call you. It could be 6AM or 3 PM, she'll let you know the day before."
I reminded him that we live three hours away and a night before call may have us leaving at 3AM to get there so we would really appreciate further notice.  He stared at me like I was speaking another language and I gave up.  I wonder how it is to be so elevated in life that it is impossible to comprehend human things like time and travel!
We were happy to leave his office.  We had an hour break until the biopsy so we went to our favorite secret cafeteria that is a 5 minute walk from the hospital.  It was fun to be there without Willie wearing a mask and drawing unwanted attention from strangers.  We ate our lunch there then went back to cancer center to wait for the biopsy. 
I had made about 10 phone calls in the previous week to arrange for Carl to do the biopsy and no one had been able to confirm if he would be the one doing it.  I didn't tell Will this, so I was very relieved when Carl walked into the waiting room.  What a welcome face!  He came over to say hi and explain that he would just need a few moments to set up then we would get going.  A few minutes later a nurse led us into a room with a tiny cot-sized hospital bed.  The room was about the same size of the Emergency room where Will had his first biospy perfromed and it brought back unwelcomed memories. 
We talked and joked with Carl as he prepared the things he would need for the procedure.  He explained that he didn't like using the kit they had at the cancer center because the drilling device has no handle on it.  This was simply a warning to Will that it may take a bit more time to drill the piece in.  We have full faith in Carl so we told him to go ahead and work his magic. 
He started the procedure at 3:20 PM.  Will was feeling a little pain when he went in with the numbing needle and said he was having a funny nerve sensation he hadn't felt before.  Carl assured him it's because this side of his hip has already had 2 biopsies done on it and the nerves are a bit sensistive.  He gave him 3 syringes of numbing fluid then dove in.  The drilling device was a joke.  It usally is shaped like a "T" and the top cross is used to grip and turn.  This device looked exactly like a regular screwdriver with nothing to hold as leverage.
"See what I mean about the leverage" Carl said, holding the instrument up for me to see.
He inserted it into Will's hip then twisted it back and forth with his thumb and first two fingers.  He looked so dainty, like a queen drinking afternoon tea.  I was worried he would never get into the bone like this, but when I looked at Carl, we he was cool and collected.  He was gazing at the ceiling with a tranquil look on his face as if he was willing the instrument into Will's hip with his mind.
30 seconds later he removed the top piece of the device and inserted the syringe.  Bone marrow aspirate came flowing from Will's hip. 
Success!
Carl looked at me and smiled and I reported that it had only taken him 30 seconds to get there.  Amazing!
He removed the smaller device and inserted the bone clipping piece.  Will felt pain from this larger rod so Carl numbed him some more then went in after a section of bone.  He drilled this piece in with a bit of effort, but had the sample removed in one minute flat.  We crossed our finger as he handed the sample to the lab tech and breathed a sigh of relief when she reported it was good.
It was 3:27PM. He was done in a mere 7 minutes!  That must be a world record or something.
There were congratulations shared all around. I congratulated Carl; Carl congraulated Will; Will congratulated the lab tech and she congratulated me!  Then we all laughed..
We thanked Carl and reminded him that he is the best and that we will see no one else ever again.
He looked bashfully at his gloves as he removed them, as if the praise was too heavy.
"I wasn't going to tell you this," he said, throwing his gloves in the trash "but the woman I did a biopsy on just before I came here said it was the worst she has ever received!"
We gasped in shock.  Who is this woman?  How dare she?  We said if he would give us her name we would set her straight!  The thought of anyone discounting our Carl's ability is insulting!
Carl left by saying he hopes he doesn't see us for a while.  It's funny how you build these kinds of relationships in Cancer care in which you hope that better health keeps you from seeing eachother again.
We left in good spirits after the succesful biopsy and went over to the transplant clinic to see if the results on Will's siblings had come back.  A funny thing happened earlier in the week.  I called to see if they had received the blood samples fromWill's siblings that were sent to the hospital.  They didn't understand what I was asking for and told me that I would have to wait until Friday for the results.  I only wanted to know if the blood got there, but hey, we're happy to take results instead!
The receptionist called the lab and put me on the phone.  The voice on the other line was that of a caring woman.  She asked how I was then jumped straight to business.
"I hate to be the one to tell you this," she said "but neither of his siblings were a match."
I felt like I was falling down a flight of stairs.  We had put all of our hope into having one of his siblings match so they could donate him their marrow.  This was not news we had planned on.  She continued to talk as I tried to gather my thought and emotions.  I don't know what she was saying, but I was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of peace.  I knew in that moment that Will's siblings were not supposed to match.  I don't know why, but it is how things are supposed to happen.
The line was silent and I realized she had asked me a question.  I hadn't heard anything she had just said.
"What was that?" I asked.
"I don't want you to think this is bad news honey," she said, "our next step is to run the bank and we find matches for people there everyday.  There is always hope!"
I thanked her for her optimism and asked her to walk me through the next steps.  We meet with the Bone Marrow Transplant Team on July 11th.  This is a 3 hour meeting for the specialist to examine Will and determine his eligibility for a transplant and answer our ever growing list of questions.  We haven't had a chance to ask many questions about a transplant, everything we know has been from internet research and the continual pushing from our doctor to get a transplant.  This will be a good meeting for us to learn more and make the decision if it really is the best route for Willie. 
I realized that we were planning on letting the results from Will's siblings' test make the decision for us.  We were simply going to see if they matched and if they did, we would go for it.  This is not good research, or good faith. 
After the meeting with the transplant team they will submit a request to our insurance to get approval to search the transplant bank.  Apparently this costs thousands of dollars and it takes the insurance company at least three weeks to approve this.  After that, Stanford will search the bank which, the woman told me, usually takes two to three weeks to find a match.  If a match is found, they contact the donor and ask them to come in and give blood again for further testing.  There is a high percentage of people who don't show up for this even though they are listed in the bank so she was eager to warn me of that.  That testing takes a few more weeks so we are looking at a good 9 weeks before we have any more information.
So here we are, back at the "hurry up and wait" phase that we are not fond of.
In the meantime, Willie will continue to get chemo three days a month for the next four months and we carry on with life.
And life is good. 
Tomorrow we will be having a gathering at the local gym to thank everyone who has donated raffle prizes and draw the names of the winners.  We now have over 40 prizes and a countless number of people who have supported us by buying tickets.  We are so grateful to the community and our good friends who have organized this for us.  We met with a group of our friends yesterday morning to discuss the logistics of the event tomorrow.  There were a dozen people there who have all played integral parts in helping us along this journey.  As we met together I looked into each of their faces and thought to myself that this must be what angels look like. 
Big, bulky, bench pressing, angels.
Is there any better kind?
We hope to see all of you locals down at the raffle tomorrow.  Thank you again for all of the support, thoughts and prayers we continue to receive.  We keep marching on!