Mariel and I spent yesterday in Boston seeing doctors. Oy. Dana-Farber was okay. My counts are good (normal platelets for the first time since transplant). My doctor took one look at me and said: chronic gvh. It's official, folks. I'm fortunate that my donor is attacking me, and the skin is better than other organs such as my liver or gut. The bad news is, I have to increase the prednisone to 60 mg. a day and start taking rapamune again (1 mg.) I also have to continue taking all preventative meds because the pred and rapamune suppress my immune system.
60 mg. of prednisone is the most I've ever taken and I expect my appetite will get better than it already is. That means I will have to exercise more or soon look like a hippo. My half-moon face will be full moon in no time. If I'm lucky, I won't be on this dose for long. My donor will get the hint and behave himself.
I was still able to get my immunizations, three of them: DPT (diptheria , pertussis, tetanus); Pneumococcal Pneumonia; HIB (haemophilus B). I'll get more in two months.
Then it was off to Massachusetts Eye and Eye Infirmary for an appointment with an ophthalmologist who specializes in gvh. It was supposed to be nine minutes away, but that nine minutes soon became an hour as we repeatedly drove past the building on a Kafkaesque highway that seemed to have no exits. Mariel slept in the car while I spent two hours having my eyes examined by various technicians and doctors. The result? No gvh but plenty of recommendations for what I should do with my eyes. Mariel drove home, a rush-hour fueled nightmare of epic proportions.
Time for breakfast. I will be devouring blueberry buckwheat pancakes and then going to yoga.
1 comment:
Hi Patricia,
It sounds like we are due for another breakfast outing to Jiggers for some jonnycakes before you leave the ocean state!
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