The Odds

How do you deal with something that can't be dealt with?
How do you move on without remembering but without forgetting?
How do you create a new normal?

I wonder if I'm ever going to feel relaxed again. If there is ever going to be a time when I won't panic over a sudden itch, a fever or an unexpected pain and think that it's back. When will I get peace of mind?

50/50 sucks.

Blood Counts

I've been out of the hospital for two weeks now. Little by little I've gained some strength. Yesterday I was even able to go for a 30 minute walk. The doctors are controlling me every other day by blood tests though. My bone marrow seems to be in a shock mode still (what a surprise!) because my blood counts aren't that great. Bah. The worst thing is that there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. Come on platelets and haemoglobin, get your act together! I want to move on and lead a normal life!

DAY +16

I'm at home folks. They released me already on Tuesday, 13th September (DAY +13 post-SCT. Really early!), but since I've been napping away the past few days, I haven't felt up to updating. In fact, I've been too tired to even open my laptop. The fatigue is quite overwhelming. Something I've never experienced before. Something that is hard to explain, since it goes beyond the feeling of being tired. I fall asleep anywhere, ignoring happily both place and time. Climbing up the staircases is a challenge. Let alone taking a shower and changing clothes. Eating is unappealing since everything tastes like cardboard and I still get nauseous from time to time.

But all in all, regardless of everything, and unafraid of sounding like a cliché, I just feel so grateful to be alive. I've survived the "we're going to have to kill you and then bring you back to life"-method of curing that is the stem cell transplant!

DAY +9

0,4!

Oh yeah. That's my white cell count this morning. My bone marrow is producing cells like crazy! 

To get out of isolation I need a steady 1,0. They say this could happen tomorrow! Gosh! 

P.s. Just so you have something to compare the values to, a healthy person's white cell count ranges from 3,4 to 8,2. To those values, I still have some catching up to do, but rest assured, I'll get there.

DAY +8

After various days of blood drawn and the white cell count resulting in whopping 0,0, I expected today not to be any different. Well, think again. My white cell count was 0,2 this morning! The engraftment has finally happened! My stem cells have found their way back home to Tara, erm, I mean, to the bone marrow. Wow! I know that 0,2 doesn't get me out of my isolation bubble just yet, but maybe by weekend. I'd love to feel the crispy autumn air!

DAY +5

Some scribblings on napkin corners, receipts and random scraps of paper.
Between DAYS -2 and +4:

Her primary goal in life is for the Pain to go away. Nothing more, nothing less. But since that isn't an option, Pain makes her prioritize. It makes her not want to talk. Every breath of air can be used more wisely. It makes her not give a fuck. It makes her choose sleep above everything else. Pain ridicules her waif-like mind. It makes death appealing. Pain stretches out its wiry long limbs and crawls into every far-out corner of her body and contaminates her as a whole. It limits her mindset. She loses the big picture. She loses her shit. She sees herself as an extension of her pain. Her body a mere vessel in a state of emergency. A broken lump of nauseous flesh and bone.


And then ---


the Pain goes away. Just as quickly as it came. She is awoken by a ray of sun beaming to her eyes. And all is well. Breathing is easier. She's a five-day old stem cell transplant survivor with no other plans except to exist.

P.S. Oxycodone is a wonderful medication.

Come September. DAY +1

My re-birthday was yesterday. 31st August. What a perfect way to end the month. Although the transplant procedure itself was very straightforward - a couple of syringes of stem cells, straight to the heart - it still felt special to me.

My blood counts are sinking rapidly, so my doctor mentioned that the isolation period with zero immunity would begin tomorrow. No fresh fruit or vegetables for me. Not that I'm actually eating anything else than porridge for now. My stomach is completely destroyed. The five-day chemo did some considerable damage there. And it hurts like hell. As of today they've also decided to hook me on a sugar+salt IV drop, just to make sure that I do get some nutrition.

Well, I'm off to fade into the world of mindless daytime TV. Have a good one everyone!