It's official. The chemo has knocked out all of my neutrophils, the first responder white blood cells that appear at the scene to do battle with pathogens. I'm on my own now, trying to limit my exposure to bacteria, fungi and other nasties.
I don't know if my defenseless state had anything to do with it, but I spent much of yesterday parked on the couch. Marty and I took a short walk in the afternoon, and that used up all my energy. I spent the rest of the day reclining on my chaise longue, drifting in and out of consciousness. I managed to drag myself to the dinner table and consumed two enchiladas (Sexto de Mayo--we missed Cinco). Then I did another hour of couch time before crawling up to bed at 8 pm. You'd think that after 10 hours of sleep I'd be raring to go, but the only place I'm raring to go is back to bed.
This extreme lack of energy is normal--my blood cells are dead or dying. Hopefully, the leukemic cells are experiencing a slow and painful death, Geneva Convention be damned.
No plans for the day. I'm giving myself up to extreme lassitude. Were that I were relaxing on an empty stretch of beach sipping a margarita.
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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.
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May
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- Day at the Beach
- Goals for Today
- My Blood Pressure Also Rises
- Free, and Trying to Stay That Way
- Tortured Notes
- The PJFF Wants YOU!
- Jottings of the Day
- Hot Hot Hot
- Hemoglobin the Hard Way
- Navigating the Nadir
- Mellow Yellow
- Kafkaesque
- No Neutrophils
- Infinite Jest--What Would You Call It?
- All My Trials, Soon Be Over
- No Exit
- Temporarily Offline
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7 comments:
TWO enchilladas= successful day!
Your body has no cells (no leukemic ones either) you are suppose to rest. I am still blown away that you got up for dinner!
Keep on truckin. Your body needs rest in order to fight and rebuild.
Hugs,
Lea
If you need with the torture portion of the day, I'm your girl!!!
I think of you everyday, like a modern day Joan of Arc.
You shall overcome...
I too am impressed that you ate dinner. And remember, your fatigue is normal. Just think of that chemo knocking out the leukemia along with the neutrophils.
Stay on it, PJ. Sounds like you're doing well.
Thank you, that was extremely valuable and interesting...I will be back again to read more on this topic.
Hello,
Thanks for sharing this link - but unfortunately it seems to be not working? Does anybody here at pj-plog.blogspot.com have a mirror or another source?
Cheers,
John
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