From Facebook:
(Yes, I went there.) We are sleepless in Seattle over Idan’s latest chimerism test results. Once again, the numbers are not where we hoped they’d be, and, worse yet, are indicating that the graft is slipping even further. Idan’s T-cell count remained low, nudging up only a few percentage points from 7% to 12% donor from the DLI. This would have been fine if not for the fact that his myeloid cell line, which had been at or near 100% from the beginning, has slipped down to 83% donor.
There are two possibilities for the slip down. The first and more likely is that Idan is rejecting the graft (probably because he does not have a substantial number of donor T-cells). The second possibility is that the myeloid cells are just fluctuating and will stabilize at a high number. We are redoing the chimerism test next week to see if it continues to drop. If so, we know that we are likely facing rejection. Obviously, we are hoping and praying for the graft to hold tight and for the T-cells to continue increasing. We are planning for a second DLI on January 27th, but that plan may change depending on the test results next week.
Without speculating too far into the future, should Idan reject the graft, we will have to gear up for battle again. There is some new research indicating that Idan’s disease makes him susceptible to an even greater array of opportunistic infections than initially thought, and that the CD40 ligand protein is implicated in more areas of the immune system than just the creation of IgGs (hence why IgG replacement therapy is not sufficient to protect Idan).
A second transplant comes with even more risk than the first one and is a very scary thought, so we are praying that we do not have to go down that road. That said, we think back to our initial reasons for choosing Seattle and feel comforted knowing that Idan is still strong and did very well throughout the transplant. There are definitely scenarios far worse than rejection. No matter what the next chimerism results show, we have no regrets.
We are blessed with a child that fills our heart with joy and laughter, and allows us to forget our fears and worries. We hope that we can do the same for him by staying strong, happy and optimistic – but prepared to go back into battle if necessary.
It’s been a long week. It started with yet another medical mystery. On Tuesday, we took Idan to the hospital to test his swallowing ability. Since his first hospitalization in April, he’s had random choking fits while eating or playing that have gotten worse since transplant. We initially thought it was acid reflux, but decided to take a closer look to make sure bacteria wasn’t quietly entering his lungs with these fits. It turns out, Idan does have a problem swallowing liquids. He is having some mild aspiration, which is concerning enough that we are now thickening all of Idan’s drinks to make sure he doesn’t choke. It doesn’t seem to be connected to the transplant since it started after his intubation last April, but it’s not clear what is causing this problem. In any event, we are hoping Idan grows out of it.
Shortly after the swallowing test, Akiva felt a scratch in his throat, and we had to separate him from Idan until we knew for sure he did not have a cold or, if he did, he was free of symptoms for at least 48 hours. Thankfully, the scratch in his throat went away, but the scare meant Idan and I were on our own for two days. Ever since we came to Seattle, Akiva and I have worked in unison to care for Idan as the three of us hunkered down for his bone marrow transplant. It hadn’t quite dawned on us just how much care and energy our situation necessitates until I was without my partner.
Our routine starts at 7:00 a.m., with Idan’s first medication of the day – tacrolimus. This must be given every 8 hours. Idan is usually up by then, so we give it to him right on time. Then, his central line must be flushed. His central line splits into two lines. Both lines must be flushed once a day. This requires first cleaning the two lines with an alcohol swab, then pushing a saline and then heprin syringe into each line. After breakfast, we take Idan’s temperature, and then measure out and prepare his 6 or 7 oral medications (depending on the day of the week), and give them to him a ½ ML at a time (more syringes). After oral meds, we can play, go outside, and do “normal” activities until it’s time to leave for the clinic. We go to the clinic two or three afternoons a week for Idan’s regular exams, blood draws, infusions, to pick up new meds, and to talk to the pharmacist about any changes to the meds. These visits can last anywhere from 1 ½ to 3 hours, depending on what’s lined up for the day. We usually have to pack his 3:00 dose of tacrolimus to make sure he gets it on time. The clinic visit often ends with a cranky child who, although loves visiting all his friends, gets pretty frustrated that he can’t crawl or walk around.
After clinic, we give Idan more medicine for his acid reflux, and then we have Facetime/Skype chats with family on the East Coast over dinner. After dinner, Idan gets 5-6 more oral medications. Then we can get Idan ready for his bath. Before the bath begins, the entire tub must be thoroughly cleaned, a few fresh towels and washcloths are set aside in a clean area, and Idan’s dressing must be covered. Small pieces of film are wrapped around the ends of his line to prevent moisture from coming in, and a piece of gauze is placed on some Press N’Seal wrap to cover his entire dressing. Idan’s entire chest and stomach are covered, and he gets a bath standing up – no splashing in water for him. Before he goes to bed, he needs another bottle to meet his fluid goals for the day, so we put on some Curious George while he finishes up. We do one last temperature check before he is carried into the bedroom. One of us will put Idan to sleep, and the other works on cleaning the rest of the house so it is ready for Idan in the morning. Our night ends at 11, when we give Idan his last dose of tacrolimus for the day, trying not to wake him.
Imagine doing all of the above with an active toddler who weighs over 30 lbs, and on only a few hours of uninterrupted sleep! It was a happy reunion when Akiva was able to join us again. During his period of isolation, Akiva finally got a chance to deal with our insurance and bills that are starting to come in – and finally got a haircut! I learned how to do all of the above with no help (although Idan does enjoy helping me wrap his central line before bath), and in spite of it all, had a ton of fun with the cutie. So, not all bad…
Next week is a very busy week. We have the next chimerism test on Monday morning, bright and early. The rest of the day/week will be filled with a repeat of all the tests that were done pre-transplant for the post-transplant evaluation typically done between Day 85-100. These days don’t matter nearly as much for us given Idan’s difficulty engrafting on his T-Cell line, but it is important to know how well his organs have withstood the chemo, etc.
We will have lots to report in a week, so stay tuned…
From Facebook: Idan went out yesterday for a short walk around our block. While his immune system is still very much compromised, we need to mostly avoid children and people. Mid-day on a cold day seamed like the best time to test out his new walking skills:
It’s hard to believe that there was a time when we weren’t fighting for Idan. When he was “well” and we were blissfully happy (read: ignorant). Last New Years Eve, Akiva and I popped open a bottle of champagne and toasted to our wonderful life with our incredible baby boy, only 5 months old at the time. He slept sweetly in the other room. None of us could have possibly comprehended how our world would be shaken over the course of the next year, and even now we shake our heads in shock.
Fast forward to the end of March, when my mother asked if we noticed that Idan was breathing quickly that day. It was the last day he would play with his cousins Ryan and Brandon for an indefinite amount of time. And two weeks later, we were rushed to the hospital by ambulance to save his life. Little Idan spent three weeks in the pediatric ICU hooked up to a ventilator, unable to breathe on his own. A diagnosis of pneumocystis pneumonia would lead to an eventual diagnosis of X-Linked Hyper IgM, and our lives suddenly changed course.
The following months took us on a journey to find a cure, and led us to Seattle for a bone marrow transplant. We fought and won battles with the insurance company and, with your help, raised over $250,000 to pay for the mounting expenses and cover the cost of transplant. We were showered in warm wishes, prayers, and love from hundreds, if not thousands, of friends, family, and complete strangers. People the world over connected to us, to each other, all worried about Idan. In late September, after a last-minute scramble to find safe transport to Seattle, we were blessed by the kindness of a humble man who shared his private jet to the west coast with us, and we were welcomed into the home of a wonderful family for the weeks of pre-transplant testing. We spent the latter half of October and most of November in the hospital for Idan’s bone marrow transplant, and have been in and out of the hospital and out-patient clinic ever since. All in a year’s work.
For the past several months, we’ve been living in a suspended reality of sorts. We’ve set up a temporary home here in Seattle, and we have been fortunate enough to have family visit frequently. By some miracle, Idan has thrived. In one year, he has gone from barely sitting up to full-on walking and talking, despite every obstacle that has threatened to throw him off course. Neither the ventilator, the isolation from other children and crowds, the multitude of x-rays, blood draws, and other tests, the chemotherapy, the bone marrow transplant, being tethered to Johnny Five for hours and days on end, living in the hospital for over a month on two separate occasions, dozens of medications he takes every day, nor the constant fussing over him by his worried parents have slowed him down. Not. One. Bit.
Today, as we reflect on this past year, although we may be sad for all that has happened and we mourn the many ways Idan has been deprived of a normal childhood, our hearts are full with love and pride when we think of our little superhero. Idan has never wavered, and forges forward, assuring us all will be okay in the year to come. We have high hopes for this year, and we hope and pray that it brings the ever-elusive cure we have been waiting for. We hope this year Idan will not have to endure more chemotherapy or another bone marrow transplant. We hope instead that his donor T-cells will grow and multiply and make a permanent home in his marrow. We hope this year Idan can go back to playing with his cousins, can visit his grandparents, aunts, and uncles, can go to the playground and play with children, without fear of catching a virus. We hope we can go back home to New York. We hope, we hope. In the meantime, we are enjoying every second of isolation with our little boy, who thankfully is a lively, entertaining, and delicious companion.
May all of you have a happy, healthy, and wonderful new year. Thank you for all your support!
All our love,
Amanda, Akiva & Idani
As with many of the treatments Idan has received in the past, the actual DLI was rather anti-climactic. The entire amount of donor T-cells infused fit into one syringe. It took all of about 6 minutes to push it through, and we walked out of the clinic about 45 minutes later. But, like all of the other treatments Idan has received in the past, the real risks and rewards happen far out, and we just have to wait and see. In the next few weeks we hope the mature donor T-cells we infused help the small amount of donor T-cells set up a stronger presence in Idan’s bone marrow. The next chimerism test will be four weeks from now, and based on those results (and whether Idan tolerates these new cells) we will decide whether to move forward with additional DLI’s. It may take a few DLI’s for the donor T-cells to really kick in, but we hope for the best and pray for a miracle so we can all go back to New York soon, fully cured. Idan’s donor has generously given more than enough cells for as many DLI’s as needed. We hope that wherever he is, he knows how incredible he is, and the amazing gift he has given to our son.
In addition to the DLI, this week has started on a positive note with a visit from Idan’s grandparents from Israel. It was an emotional reunion, as the last time we saw them in person was in August, and we were preparing to leave for Idan’s transplant. We remember saying goodbye quite vividly, the future seeming so uncertain. No one could say for sure how Idan would handle the transplant, and we all knew that our lives would never be the same. Yesterday, when Idan smiled cheerfully at his grandparents – faces familiar from Skype and FaceTime and many videos sent to entertain him on long days in the hospital – it dawned on us what a tremendous milestone we have reached in our journey. Idan has survived a bone marrow transplant, and managed to thrive in so many ways.
So, as December comes to an end, the days are thankfully growing longer, and the future is looking brighter. We hope that, like the barren trees of winter do every year without fail, Idan’s donor cells, too, will begin to blossom and grow fruitful over the course of the next few months.
To all those that are celebrating, have a merry Christmas, and a happy new year.
All our love,
Amanda, Akiva & Idan