(Warning: This blog post is non-technical but purely personal. I write openly about my current health issues. This blog might be triggering for people who struggle with, or lost dear ones to, cancer and other similar diseases.)

In September 2022, I was diagnosed with leukemia. I was treated with chemotherapy, I received a stem cell infusion, and then, after a long recovery period, I was clean and I could return to life before I got ill. I wrote about that extensively, in what I called my leukemia diary.

The only thing in my life that still reminded me of my illness was the Team Hugo shirt in my closet, and the periodic returns to the hospital for yet another routine checkup.

The diary I didn’t want to reopen

The last check was two weeks ago. And, unlike previous times, the nurse was not smiling when the results came in. My hemaglobin and leukocytes (red and white blood cells) were still okay. But the thrombocytes (platelets) were seriously down. So a new bone marrow puncture was ordered.

A week later, the results were in. I was of course hoping for better news. But not counting on it. And indeed. It was as I feared. My leukemia is back.

Luckily, it is detected early this time. My hematologist told me that she is not in a rush to start my treatment. Instead, she first wanted to do further analysis of my cancer cells. She explained that sometimes, those cells exhibit small errors. And if those can be found, then she can use a lighter dosage of chemotherapy, using special agents that attack those specific errors. So I was sent home, to await news on how exactly I will be treated.

My stupid perfectionism

I received that update yesterday. Of course, me being the perfectionist that I am, my cancer cells took a book out of my page and are perfect too. No imperfections or errors to be found. Which means that the treatment will, once more, be a heavy blast with the chemo shotgun. Which, like the previous time, will be a one-week period of applying poison through a PICC line, and then three weeks or more to recover, all in hospital. Then a short rest period at home, and then a second round of chemo. Simultaneous with that second round, I will once more receive a stem cell infusion from a donor.

While it is possible to ask the same donor to donate another time, that is not my doctor’s preference. She explained to me that my current condition proves that the immune system I was given by this donor is apparently not able to defeat this cancer. Giving me another infusion from the same donor would very likely result in a repeat pattern: good for a few years, and then the cancer is back. She still aims for full recovery.

So she has started the search for a new donor. Based on the expected time it will take to find a donor, and the expected time it will take me to be ready for the infusion, she decided not to admit me to the hospital yet. Again, because the leukemia was detected in an early stage, she has the luxury of waiting. I will now “most likely” be admitted “somewhere next week”.

Looking forward

I once more had to cancel many planned speaking engagements. Any of you who were at Data Saturday Pordenone or SQL Konferenz may already have wondered why I had cancelled my engagement. The organizers knew, but I had asked them to keep it silent, until I felt ready to go public with this bad news. All other conferences that had me selected and scheduled to speak have also been informed. So I won’t be at SQL Saturday Atlanta – AI & BI, Day of Data Richmond, SeaQL 2026, SQLBits, SQL Day, Data Point Prague, and Data Saturday Croatia. My apologies for those who had planned to attend my session, or who might even have signed up for a precon. Please contact the organizer to talk refund or a switch to another precon.

My family and I are preparing for the coming months. I’ll be in hospital. I will fight to get through this, and when I am done fighting, I will lie back and know that others will continue to fight. And when I have the energy, I will write updates on my situation to my blog.

There are a lot of things I still need to do in this world. I am not done with life yet. And if life is done with me? Well, it’ll have to try a whole lot harder!

What can you do to help?

I know, from past experience, that people will ask me if there is anything they can do to help. For me personally, unless you are a hematologist, the answer is likely no. But there is a lot you can do to help the fight against cancer, and against leukemia, in general.

1. Donate to the Leukemia Research Foundation, or to any other leukemia or cancer charity. They exist all over the world. Your donations fund scientific research into better treatment. I survived my first leukemia thanks to past research, and I plan to do that again. Every research project increases the odds for all leukemia patients. Including me.
2. Register as a stem cell donor (bone marrow donor). A donor needs to be a match on many parameters. Every time someone needs stem cells, a world wide database is consulted to find a matching donor. The more people are registered, the better. I myself have been registered as a bone marrow donor for over three decades, yet never have been called to donate. Not because very few donors are needed, but because the odds of a match are low. And that’s exactly why many registrations are needed. Most people who register won’t ever be called either – but those who do have the unique opportunity to literally save a life, at the cost of a small inconvenience.

Donate to cancer charities. Register as a stem cell donor. Those are the things you can do if you want to make a difference.

And if you want to include me in your prayers or send positive thoughts? Well, regardless of my personal beliefs, I absolutely appreciate the gesture!