I'm alive. Barely.

"But the world had other ways of breaking men. They were already familiar with the smell. Sicksweet. Like old roses on a breeze." 

(Arundhati Roy: The God of Small Things)

BEAM chemotherapy regimen. What can I say? Maybe not too much, but this site might give you some insight: cancerhelp.cancerresearchuk.org/about-cancer/treatment/cancer-drugs/beam

So far I've only had the B and the E of the aforementioned acronym, but I'm telling you, this stuff is NO JOKE. 

The timetable for my stem cell transplant (SCT) is as follows:

Wed 24 -DAY -7 chemo

Thu 25 - DAY -6 chemo

Fri 26 - DAY -5 chemo

Sat 27 - DAY -4 chemo

Sun 28 - DAY -3 chemo

Mon 29 - DAY -2 Rest (!!!)

Tue 30 - DAY -1 Rest (!!!)

Wed 31 - DAY 0  SCT aka REBIRTH

From day 0 it takes roughly two weeks for my stem cells to find their way back home to the bone marrow and start producing new cells. The isolation period with zero immunity is most likely between days 0 and +14.

Lots of love to you all. I can feel your positive energy flying in through my open hospital window.


P.S. I've got yet another tube installed in my chest. This one isn't as bad though. It'll hardly leave a scar. And even if it did, scars are cooler than tattoos. They tell far more interesting stories. 

Reisefieber

Remember that age-old question "what would you take on a deserted island with you?"

Now, let's modify that a bit.

What would you take to an isolated hospital room for 3 weeks?

Who'd have thought that the prospect of having to undergo a stem cell transplant felt a bit like going on a holiday? I'm aware that on some level this must be some kind of coping mechanism of the brain kicking in, but really, I catch myself being weirdly excited about it and planning on what colour slippers and pajamas to buy. And no, I don't want to wear anything the hospital has to offer. Thank you, but no.

Imagine yourselves in a similar situation. What would you take? Bear in mind that with all the chemo they're injecting into me I might not be feeling too great. So, any suggestions of reading all of Dostojevski's novels will be kindly received, but most likely discarded. Haha.

23rd August. That's when it all starts, y'all.

When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Gets Going!

I'm in love with my bone marrow. It was able to produce MORE than enough stem cells for the transplant. They took them directly from the source (and not from peripheral blood stream) under general anesthesia. I'm high on happiness!

A Plan B

but then again, there always is. The question is how many plan Bs are you willing to accept? When to say stop? Is living with continuous plan Bs living? Is quitting losing the battle? Quality over quantity?

The doctors frequently point out that the patient and the medical team make the decisions together. Sure we do. But, in reality, from a patient's point of view, the decision making process is equivalent to a gun pointed to your head, i. e. "do what we advise you to do or you will die."

On Friday 5th August big things are going to happen. A plan B is being carried out. So far I've agreed. Hopefully it is for the best.