Close To Capacity

Did the pretesting for the stem cell transplant/chemotherapy stuff yesterday. First, the day was scheduled PERFECTLY by the transplant coordinator. Since I was going to be all over the hospital, I thought for sure there would be some long waits, delays, etc. Everybody was right on time. I got there at 8:15 and left around 4PM. I was exposed to some interesting medical technology such as a MUGA scan that only took 25 seconds vs. the one I had in November that took over an hour. The scanning device was entirely different. As with everyone else to date, the folks at MCV are good folks with the intent to help.

After spending the last 8.5 months getting treatment at a smaller hospital and clinic, the numbers of people waiting for care yesterday, was a bit overwhelming. It put a visual size to the enemy that is cancer

The remaining treatment is not going to be a walk in the part. In advance of the treatment, I will have to get injections of a drug with the intent of stimulating stem cell production. Some of the injections I will have to give myself at home. I'm not wild about that, but won't let it get in the way. Once the treatment gets started I could feel pretty crummy physically for almost two months. As one of the people told me yesterday, "We make you feel bad for a little while, so you can feel good for a long while." That's a good way of looking at it. I also look at it as "What's two months compared to other cancer patients who are dealing with feeling bad on a daily basis for a longer period of time?" It will involve some serious restrictions to avoid me contracting any viruses that could cause some set backs. I think that I have the most anxiety about any time during that period that I step out of the house, I will have to wear a mask over my mouth and nose. Ugh. Crowd contact will be minimal and working in the yard, etc. will not be allowed. Visitors to the house will have to be free of any illness, etc. My personal independence will be challenged.

"What's the alternative," you ask. Most likely it would be a chemotherapy regimen that would occur on a regular basis for a sustained period of time (i.e. years) with the intent of keeping the alien in check vs. wiping it out. Sounds simple, however, chemotherapy has cumulative effects on the body. Most noticeably, it messes with the blood and lowers counts, messes with the bone marrow, etc. Over a period of time, the body could say, "I've had enough" and lose some of it's efficiencies and capabilities.

As far as when it all begins, I will know that next Monday when I meet with the folks and review the results from all of today's tests.

That gives me a week to put some fuel back in the mental tank.

"Now the darkness
only stays the night-time
In the morning it will fade away

Daylight is good at arriving at the right time
Its not always going to be this grey

All things must pass
All things must pass away
All things must pass
All things must pass away" - George Harrison