The boy who lives

In the battle against The Disease That Shall Not Be Named, Dominic continues to defy expectations.

When doctors start to use the word "miracle," it's not hard to smile. He's figured out where Platform 9 3/4 is; he's just not telling us.

To be fair, he's still not telling anybody anything. He communicates through squeaks, laughs, cries and grunts, either unwilling or unable to form words still. He must be practising "Reducto" on his cancer when we're not looking.

More results known as flow cytometry came back from last month's bone marrow biopsy. It's basically a finer test than the bone marrow itself, and showed five per cent cancerous cells in December. Now? Three per cent.

And that's not the most amazing trick he has for us.

This week Dominic is back roaming the halls of Hogwarts (Alberta Children's Hospital). He'll get more stem cells today from the donor that enabled his bone marrow transplant a year ago. We're trying to boost his blood counts.

The transplant kept him in hospital for four months in 2014. He wound up in the ICU twice. When he left it was considered a success, but when the cancer relapsed in August we were told the bone marrow transplant had failed along with it: Only 80 per cent of his blood cells then belonged to the donor. It should be near 100.

Well, February's tests now show he's back to 100 per cent donor cells. Our doctor told us one of his colleagues used the word "miracle" when talking about it. Fittingly, that same doctor had recommended labelling Dom's condition as terminal six months ago. I don't blame him - the science suggested he should be dying. I think he's as glad as anyone to be proven wrong, even if it winds up being temporary.

That's one issue here. We're in such uncharted territory we have no idea what's coming next. Next week he could suddenly go back downhill. There is still cancer in his system, and if it's not completely gone it will come back. You're only in remission if the percentages of all these tests is zero. But that's why we're back at the castle; to mount another challenge to The Disease That Shall Not Be Named. I'd go on about Horcruxes but that's getting too geeky.

I'm quite aware of the biggest problem with making a Harry Potter comparison. Harry's parents died.

But they died before he did. Presuming no tragedy befalls us, I'm just fine with him outliving us.