Thanks to Marty, I have an inkling of what transpired the last few days. Strong stuff. Happily, I am back, and will try to write a short entry. Nausea remains a problem, so the old heave-ho might cut this short ...
I don't feel quite like myself, but then I am not quite myself. I'm about 2 cups worth of other beings, and once they set up shop, they will be even more of Them. This is a very odd feeling, probably how people feel who've had organ transplants. Now the waiting game starts. The baby cells must migrate to my bones and start cloning and differentiating--all those things that cells do best. This process can take anywhere from 2-4 weeks. Patience is a virtue but it's never been one of mine.
I'm trying to force myself to eat whatever will go down and stay down. I just finished a bowl of corn flakes, which put me in mind of an off-off Broadway show called Angry Housewives. In the play, the mother screams at her kid, who's dawdling over breakfast: eat your f*cking corn flakes! I think of that line every time I eat corn flakes, and it always brings a smile. I need smiles.
Company has arrived--Mark and Marty. Gotta run.
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Adirondack Mountains, Feb. 2007
Tale of a Cord Blood Transplantee Who Relapses and Goes on to Have a Matched Unrelated-Donor Transplant
The Weight
Adirondack Mountains, Feb. 2007
ABOUT ME
In March 2006, I was diagnosed with a blood cancer called Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML). Life as I knew it came to a crashing halt. After enduring a month in the hospital where I received intense chemotherapy, I was declared "in remission." I had three additional treatments and remained cancer-free until May 2007, when I relapsed.
My only shot at survival was to have a stem cell transplant. However, my brothers' immune markers didn't match mine, and an international search of bone marrow registries found no perfect matches. A transplant using the blood from two umbilical cords was recommended. I grasped at this straw in September 2007. It seemed to work.
This blog tells the story of my transplant and recovery, replete with outrageous slings and arrows. The expression "blood is thicker than water" has new meaning for me. I remained alive due to the blood of strangers, two of them, both male. Thanks guys.
The plot thickened when I relapsed 19 months into my new remission and had to go through the same rigamarole once more. This time, I received stem cells from a matched adult donor who was identified last go round but didn't fit into the necessary time frame. Charles Dickens could have fun with this, the stuff of pulp fiction.
I remain in remission 4 years later. My donor keeps leukemic cells in check but finds interesting ways to attack my body. Chronic graft versus host disease keeps me firmly entrenched in the medical world. And so it goes.
My only shot at survival was to have a stem cell transplant. However, my brothers' immune markers didn't match mine, and an international search of bone marrow registries found no perfect matches. A transplant using the blood from two umbilical cords was recommended. I grasped at this straw in September 2007. It seemed to work.
This blog tells the story of my transplant and recovery, replete with outrageous slings and arrows. The expression "blood is thicker than water" has new meaning for me. I remained alive due to the blood of strangers, two of them, both male. Thanks guys.
The plot thickened when I relapsed 19 months into my new remission and had to go through the same rigamarole once more. This time, I received stem cells from a matched adult donor who was identified last go round but didn't fit into the necessary time frame. Charles Dickens could have fun with this, the stuff of pulp fiction.
I remain in remission 4 years later. My donor keeps leukemic cells in check but finds interesting ways to attack my body. Chronic graft versus host disease keeps me firmly entrenched in the medical world. And so it goes.
Blog Archive
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2007
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September
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- A Quiet But Glorious Day
- Wimpy Woman
- Home Sweet Home
- Let Me Outta Here!
- Star Patient or Just Staying Alive?
- Defying the Odds
- Production Starts Rolling Out the Whites
- Fever of 103
- Plog Gets Bogged Down in Intestinal Distress
- What Did I Do To Be So Black and Blue?
- Not-So-Mellow Yellow
- Sunrise Over Boston
- Ploggin' On
- The Bike is History
- The Falcon
- The Waiting Game
- The Aussie Connection
- I'm Back
- Things you can do in 15 minutes
- Day minus 1, the real nitty gritty
- I Wanna Be Sedated
- A Day in the Life
- Blame it on Drugs
- Another Bullet Dodged
- Shake and Bake
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September
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7 comments:
WELCOME BACK!!!
LOVE/MARCIA
Patty, glad to have you back. This leg of your marthon was quite something. Marty, you're an amazing B team on the Plog! Thanks for the hard work of reliving it all through writing about it and sharing with us.
Patty, now that you're really part-Australian I thought I could help you work on your vocabulary, so I pulled out my "True Blue Guide to Australian Slang" and offer for today's lesson some of the "-o" words - that is arvo (afternoon), rego (car registration), and salvos (members of the Salvation army).
So hope you have a good arvo and enjoy the family visit. love Marie
Pat,
It is great to see your latest post! I have been thinking about you and wondering how you are doing after the transplant.
Can someone be considered a "stalker" if they check your Plog several times a day? I hope not......
Welcome Back!!
Love, Sue S.
Whats the australian connection? Do I have to keep checking in to get the next clue and eventually all will be revealed or did I miss something along the way?
Hah, you know what I think of everytime I eat Rice Krispies? That commercial from when we were kids (you a teenager and me attending Wing Street Elementary), with an opera singer warbling:
"No more Rice Krispies,
There are no more Rice Krispies"
I think they did a Simpsons' episode in the meantime where Krusty sang this ;)
Sue, it's not stalking, it's "lurking" ;) In bona fide internet parlance; I kid you not: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lurker
George,
I guess I need to "lurk more" so that I can "de-lurk" later!!! Too funny..
Sue
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