It's 10:00 am and I'm sitting here in my street clothes (including real shoes) waiting to be released. Not that release is necessarily imminent (no doctors have signed off on this), but I'm determined to walk out of here today, sooner rather than later. I will not spend another night in this hospital.
My daughter is flying in today, and she has offered to come here and cry on my behalf. I don't think this will be necessary. My blood counts are still in the doldrums, and I have no idea if I've achieved remission or not, but I'm otherwise okay. My only complaints are all directly related to my incarceration: lack of sleep; poor diet; lack of exercise; mental stress.
"Scuse me while I kiss the sky."
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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.
5 comments:
Hi Pat,
It is a glorious day to step outside and "get on down the road" back to East Greenwich and your home. I am keeping my fingers and toes crossed that you achieve your goal.
Sue S.
Raise hell!
Hope you have been sprung pj!
Sam xx
Hi there,
Thought it was about time that I sent you a comment, having been kept up to date with your blog. I'm better at direct emails, still catching up with this other new-fangled stuff like Facebook, but I figure I should learn before my girls all get into it.
Hope that you're enjoying home now, and your visit from Mariel. I'm thinking of you, and rooting for your blood count from here in London.
xo Judy
So did you escape?..Hoping that no post today means that you have ridden of into the sunset in the direction of that Costa Rican beach..
Emma
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