Saturday, July 9, 2011

Recent Test Results

With the news I received this week, I have reason to be thankful. Wednesday I had my monthly checkup that included the markers showing the activity of myeloma. It was the first time since my last stem cell transplantation that the numbers had decreased. I’m still having some trouble with hives and that has my doctor baffled. He has prescribed steroids with the hopes that it will halt this outbreak.

I’m still drawing every day and have completed 386 drawings for my next book. I am truly thankful that my hands are steady, my memory seems to be better, and my latest eye exams indicated that nothing has changed in the last six months.

I am truly a blessed person and stand amazed that so many souls care for my well-being. Thank you, David Liverett

Friday, May 13, 2011

Post Transplant

It has been over three months since my last stem cell transplantation and I thought it was time that I put down some of my thoughts. First of all the clinical trial I was on to treat my mulitiple myeloma did not go as planned. According to my instruction sheet, I was to take 100 mm of Revlimid for ten days, five days before entering the hospital and the balance after I was admitted. After taking 700 mm, I was told that I should have been taking only 75 mm a day. Now I was told that I was off the original “study.” As it turned out I will have a separated clinical trial based on what I had taken. After seventeen days in the hospital, I was released on March 2, 2011. For the next month, I had no appetite and suffering with C-diff. The day before Avis and I traveled to Alabama for two reunions, I got my appetite back and was able to have some BBQ from our favorite restaurant in Decatur. We also enjoyed seeing the first blooming redbud and dogwood trees.    

The days in the hospital were mixed with highs and lows. First the lows: After about the tenth day, I was looking in the mirror and became very depressed. This is not typical for me, but the disturbing thought came to me that “I was trapped in this body.” The disease that ravages my body is not clinical curable. I must rely on experimental drugs to keep it in check. But then what have I been taught all my life about divine healing? The old question keeps creeping in, do I have enough faith?

The highs: I was able to complete one drawing a day for the first nine days. These drawings will be used in my next book that features singers of the 1950s and 1960s. One of the night nurses became so helpful in looking up biographical information.

Today the count for my disease is at an “insignificant” level. After a hundred days, from my stem cell transplantation, I will be given Revlimid on a daily bases. I do have some side effects with hives and the cause could come from this medicine.

So I'm still on this journey with some fears and some blessings. Whatever happens, I know that I am loved by God, family, and many friends. What else could matter.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

My Dad, Monroe William Liverett

When I was six-years-old, I thought Roy Rogers was my real dad. I knew someday the truth would come out and I would live with Roy and Dale. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my dad. I think because he was at work on the second shift at the Goodyear Mill I didn’t see him a lot. My dad would leave for work at 3:00 pm, before I got home from school and arrive home at midnight. He would be asleep when I left for school in the morning.

While he worked at the mill, Dad suggested time saving procedures and was awarded $25.00 for each proposal. As  I recall, he had observed in the pre-dip area, the operator had to open a door repeatedly to make an adjustment. Dad figured a way this procedure could be done without sending a man into the furnace-like room.

In 1955, Dad was laid off from the mill. With his experience of being a sharecropper the 1930s, he thought growing cotton was the best way to keep food on the table. For two years on the back lots, owned by Mr. Justice, behind our house on Cedar Street we grew cotton. I still remember that when I was in the fifth grade, Dad trusted me to plow the cotton with our secondhand Farmall tractor. With help from the Bond twins, my brother Edwin, Dad, and I picked all the cotton.

Mom had started selling Watkins products in the mid-1950s. It wasn’t long until Dad joined her. “Mr Watkins Man,” as he was called, had discovered his calling and had the acceptance of the African-American communities of Morgan County.

The one big vacation our family took was in 1950. We went to see Rock City and on to the Grand Ole Opry. We arrived late and the ticket office wasn’t going to let us in but Dad finally talked the man to letting us in. What I remember about the evening was the coke that fell from the balcony onto our pew.

I never had a long conversation with Dad., but I always thought he loved me. He always appeared to be this quiet, reserved person. The one time I saw his temper was the day that I borrowed Edwin’s BB gun. My friend Sonny Boy and I decided to shoot some birds in our big live oak trees. Sonny Boy shot first and unfortunately shot the window fan of our neighbor Porter Harris. After receiving a call from Mr. Harris, Dad grabbed the gun and pounded it into the back porch step until there were two separate pieces.

I only saw my dad cry twice. Once at his sister Mary’s funeral and the other time was when we took Edwin to Auburn University to begin his freshmen year.

I was always in awe of Dad’s musical abilities. I still remember Dad, Buford Brewer, and O.T. Terry playing their guitars and singing country and gospel songs on our wrap-around front porch. Dad also played the harmonica with the help of a holder that he had fashioned.

Monroe William Liverett was my dad and I miss him. He would be one hundred years old next year. Born June 29, 1912, he was the youngest of sixteen children. This man with unquestionable integrity was one of the most respected persons in our community.

Eventually I came to realize that Roy Rogers could not play the guitar and a harmonica at the same time.  
   

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Stem Cell Transplant on the Calendar


Just arrived home from a meeting with my oncologist. I finally have the information regarding the date that I start my second stem cell transplantation. The date is, of all days, Valentine’s Day. As some of you know I will be part of a clinical trial. I will be the first person with this particular regimen of drugs and chemo. Not only did Avis and I spend time with my oncologist but also with the bone marrow coordinator and the clinical trial coordinator. I will begin with a powerful drug five days before my hospital stay and was warned that there could be many side effects during this time.

Last week I was talking with our Nashville friend Judy Nelon, whose church background is with the Church of God (Cleveland, Tennessee). I was telling her of this clinical trial and my hope that I would be in remission for at least two years. The doctors tell me that multiple myeloma is not curable but treatable. Judy took me aback with “Doesn’t your Church of God believe in healing?!” Well, I said “Yes.”

I got to thinking, why I am so afraid? Do I have enough faith that I can be healed? That is something that I struggle with and wonder why I can’t just believe that God is going to heal me. Is that part of the plan? There are so many praying for me and they seem to have the faith that I lack. This is certainly a scary time in my life, but maybe as February 14 draws closer I can feel the calm assurance I need to begin this new chapter in my life.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Tests for Transplant

Yesterday (12-29-10) I was given several tests to see if my body was well enough for a stem cell transplant. Everything checked out okay and the plan is to begin the procedure sometime during the week of January 10, 2011. The fifteen days in the hospital might put me in remission for at least two years.

The transplant coordinator gave me some bad news that the longer I have multiple myeloma, the harder it is to control. On the bright side, there is more research with the hopes of finding a cure.

I am thankful for all the prayers on my behalf.

Fourth Anniversary

December 7, 2010

Today marks the fourth anniversary of the day when my doctor leaned over his desk and said these seven words: “David, it looks like you have cancer.” Believe me that will start one contemplating one’s mortality. At least, in my case I had to rethink what was really important in my life.

Last year I thought of the expression, “When life throws you a curve ball...” I added, “You need a big mitt.” My big mitt included my wife, Avis, and the rest of my family. It doesn’t stop there: my Sunday school class, my quest group, the hundreds of encouraging notes I’ve received from David Coolidge’s e-mail ministry, friends from college, and at least twelve Baptist churches in Alabama have prayed for me. That’s important.

Soon after the news of my cancer, I started thinking about God’s word. I grew up in the church but had never read through the whole Bible. I began reading at Psalms and read straight through to Revelation. Reading from Genesis to Job was difficult, but I managed to read at least a chapter a night until I was finished, nine months later. Recently I was given a copy of Eugene Peterson’s The Message. I find myself wanting to read more than just one chapter a night as I had planned.

Last week, I received the best news from my oncologist. The markers that demonstrate the activity of myeloma have dropped from six thousand to five hundred. This indicates that I will qualify for my second stem cell transplantation in January. It also means that it is unnecessary for any chemo or any further mantenence at this time.   

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Red Letter Day

Yesterday was again a Red Letter Day in my journey with cancer. After my labs were drawn, Avis and I waited to hear the results.

I have always thought the more protein you have, the better. In the case of myeloma, too much protein in the blood is a bad thing. After twelve rounds of chemotherapy in October and November, the results yesterday show that the protein has dropped. I will know the results of the myeloma protein soon. My oncologist's assistant gave us some encouragement with yesterday's findings. If all goes well, I will be placed on a maintenance drug or have another round of chemotherapy this month, as an outpatient. In January 2011, I will most likely have another stem cell transplantation.

This news has given me some hope that I will be able to continue drawing. During all these uncertain days, I have been able to draw as much as ten hours a day. Although I have developed a slight tremor in both hands, it has not stopped me from drawing. Fortunately, I had changed my drawing style to pointillism (a series of dots) several years ago. I guess it's true that God had a plan for my life and this style of drawing has not been interrupted.