ArchivedLogs:Rabbit Mutant Cancer

Rabbit Mutant Cancer
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Matt
In Absentia	2013-03-07 Some progress.
Location Telephone
In the morning on Monday, Matt's phone rings. The caller-ID shows Mount Sinai Hospital. The phone is answered after a couple rings. Groggily. "Mmmyyyello?" "Hello, Matt? It's Doctor Saavedro. I'm sorry - did I wake you?" The voice on the other end has a note of apology in its professional demeanor, but there is a tone of excitement hidden behind it. "Yeah," Matt says, voice still thick with sleep, "Mm, I'm sorry." He also sounds rather genuinely apologetic. About being woken. "S'who -- doctor -- oh. Um. Hi." He manages to sound a little more chipper by the time he has worked his way through to hi. "Hello. I have the preliminary results of my analysis in. Is now a good time for us to go over it, or should we talk later?" There is a smile in his tone. There's a shuffling in the background; a rustling of sheets, a quiet pause. Then, softer, "Can I call you -- or you call me -- um, back. Like. Ten minutes?" "Of course, Matt. Call me back at this same number whenever works for you." Comes the reply, almost immediately. "'kay." Matt hangs up. It's almost exactly ten minutes later that he calls back, from his cell again. It takes several rings before the phone is picked up again. "Clinical genetics, this is Doctor Saavedro speaking." This time, there is the soft sound of bubbling in the background. "Hi, Doctor." Matt sounds less groggy. Slightly. Sleepy, still. A little slow, a little rough-voiced, but at least he's speaking clearly now. "Hi, sorry. Is this a -- is now okay?" "Oh, hello, Matt. Yes, now's just fine. I'm sorry to wake you," Iolaus' tone is apologetic, now. "But I wanted to call you as soon as the results were confirmed by my team and by your oncologist. We've found something." "-- Found something?" Matt sounds cautious. "Something like what kind of something?" "We found a mutation in your cancer cells. There's a protein that's supposed to be expressed on the surface on normal lymphocytes called CD19. But on your cancer cells, CD19 is... fused. We think that's one of the things that is causing your cancer to grow." Iolaus explains. "Oh my god," Matt says, sounding totally shocked, "/even my cancer is a mutant/?" Iolaus pauses, a noise that does not quite meet the qualifications for speech making its way down the line. It seems that he chooses to simply ignore this as he presses on. "This is good news, Matt. It means two things. One, there is a drug that focuses on CD19 and disrupting its ability to communicate using it. That will help keep your cancer from replicating well, and give your body a chance to fight it off. I've also started working with another doctor here on tailoring a drug specifically for you that will 'tag' your cancer with a specific protein that your immune system will recognize as dangerous and start fighting it off." Matt sniffs, exaggeratedly. "Dr. Calvillo would have laughed at that," he says with feigned hurt. "Oh, man, so you're going to, like, /castrate/ my mutant cancer? That's good because, uh, I've seen all my latest tests, it's basically breeding like freaking bunnies up in here." "Sorry." Iolaus does not sound sorry - he sounds bemused. "Hopefully your... rabbit mutant cancer won't be breeding for much longer. You should call Doctor Calvillo to make an appointment to go see her so you can get started on the CD19 drug as soon as possible. Then once I finish the medication, we'll probably want you to be hospitalized for a few days while you are first on it, since it is experimental. It'll be perfectly safe itself, but you may end up getting flu-like symptoms as your immune system kicks into higher gear. Then... we will see. Depending on how effective they are alone, if they aren't working well enough, we may want to do another round of chemo on top of it. To... slaughter the rabbits." "Wow, you're a harsh man. What do you have against poor little bunnies?" Matt says, horrified. And then, "I mean, okay, I guess these bunnies are actually horrible /killer/ bunnies so I see your point. This is like self-defense bunny slaughter. Also um cancer cells don't look much like bunnies at all. At least not mine. I've seen a bunch that look like stars, though! That's way better than the boring little blobs I have. One of my friends has basically an entire freaking /constellation/ eating at his brainstem." Matt says this like: wow, cool, huh? Rather than like: shit, brain tumour killing him. This gets a somewhat weak chuckle. "Well, be glad you only have the bunnies." he says, dryly. There is a pause and, more seriously, Iolaus continues. "I don't want to get your hopes up, Matt. We are looking at experimental treatments on top of experimental treatments... but I think you have a better chance of beating this thing now than you have had in the past. Targeted treatments are much more effective. In some cases, they can be near a miracle. We will know more after you start your second round." "Oh, don't worry," Matt tells Iolaus, a little bit more seriously. Almost /reassuring/ the older man. "I'm really grounded with my hopes. Cancer's the only place I stopped being an optimist. Just in case." "Don't be too hopeless either," Iolaus says, voice gentle. "This is good news. We will know more after you get started, but... this is not more of the same. There is a real chance here - not just to stop it from growing, but for remission, or even more." "I said I was grounded," Matt says, amused, "not /hopeless/, sheesh, doc, you really know how to make a boy feel flattered." "In a different context, perhaps." Iolaus says, amusement in his tone. "Tell you what. When you beat this thing, me and Becca will take you out for a celebratory dinner. That should be incentive." "A date with /two/ doctors? I'm coming up in the world. My momma would be so proud --" Matt still sounds amused, though this trails off into a quiet chuckle, and then a pause. More serious, more quiet: "How long will these rounds take? I mean, how long before we know if it's -- doing anything?" "The first drug is going to slow the growth rate more than anything else. Once we combine it with the second, we should start seeing changes within a week or so." Iolaus says. "Or, at least, indications of its success or failure. If we have to combine it with chemo, it might take another full round before we know." "Another full round of chemo," Matt echoes, and for all his usual cheer it must be said he does not sound /over/joyed at this idea, let alone: "Another full round of chemo before we know." He draws in a slow breath, and it's determinedly cheerful again when he says, "Okay, great! I mean, I mean, this is like, the first time in months I've had a doctor telling me something hopeful so you're basically like the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy in one. I'll tell you in a few weeks if you're Santa Claus, /too/." Iolaus chuckles and he nods. "Let's see. We'll know more about whether you will need chemo in a week or so, and then maybe after that. Alright?" he says, brightly enough. "Give my best to Lucien, and try to get some celebration in. It's progress." "Okay." There's another deep breath. "I'll call Doctor Calvillo, then. Thanks for -- thanks." "I will talk to you in a few days, Matt." Iolaus says. "Have a good rest of your day." "You too, Doctor." Matt sounds bright at this, at least. "Have a good day!" The phone clicks off.