I received a blessing tonight that absolutely seemed incredible and helped most of my concerns for this transplant go away.
I was promised:
* Peace and comfort.
* That my desires and hopes for this transplant will come
true through this procedure.
* I will have the longevity I desire through this process.
* That the doctors and nurses and medical personnel will have the wisdom to know how to help me the best.
* There will be complications, but they will short in nature.
* I will feel the love of my Savior and Heavenly Father
and family and friends.
* Through the prayers of those I know and who know me, I
will be healed.
Hooray. There's truth behind some of the optimism I've been feeling. Hooray for the power of the priesthood and our Savior's and Father's involvement with our sometimes seemingly insignificant lives on this Earth. Our lives are not insignificant to them!
And thank you for your prayers and kind words and concerns. You are going to help heal me!
Purple Everywhere
Daily Herald picture
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Assuming Someone Else's Identity
I'm sitting at home, contemplating everything we heard yesterday at the Family Conference with Dr. Daanish Hoda in preparation for my allogeneic mini (nonmyeloblative) haploidentical stem cell (bone marrow) transplant.
Tomorrow morning (Friday, February 7), I'll have a central line placed on the left side of my upper chest and then start five consecutive days of chemo to kill off some of my white blood cells to make room for the new stem cells from my sister to grow.
And I can't help feeling like today is the last day of my old life and tomorrow is the first day of my new life. Technically, maybe, I can't truly say that until next Wednesday--the day before my sister's cells are actually transfused into me. However, tomorrow is the first day of the actual regimen, so that's how I'm feeling.
And I'm more optimistic about how effective this transplant is going to be against fighting my cancer and any future outbreaks of it than I was with the autologous transplant I had in August of 2011, when my own cancer-free cells were put back in me. Surprisingly, Dr. Hoda understands my logic and agrees with me.
But I also feel like this second transplant will change me forever. That's a good thing (no more cancer for a while), but it's also a bad thing (as graft-versus-host-disease kicks in and Tressie's cells war against my own). I feel like there will be some GVHD complications that will permanently be with me for the rest of my life.
Like so many things in life, this process has amazing parallels to the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Dr. Daanish said that we'll know the transplant was a success when, after some months or possibly a year have passed, they draw my blood and no longer see the properties of my own blood but see only the properties of Tressie's blood. When they look at my blood, they'll see only her blood. My immune system will be totally replaced by hers at that point, and that transformation will heal me of cancer.
Isn't that just what this life is about in spiritual terms? I'm trying to become like my Savior, Jesus Christ. I'm trying to let Him in me so deeply that when people look at me they see only Him--what He would do and what He would say if He were still on the Earth.
And only by accepting Him and becoming more like Him can He heal me--my sins and the pains and unjustices of this world.
Something to think about :-)
Tomorrow morning (Friday, February 7), I'll have a central line placed on the left side of my upper chest and then start five consecutive days of chemo to kill off some of my white blood cells to make room for the new stem cells from my sister to grow.
And I can't help feeling like today is the last day of my old life and tomorrow is the first day of my new life. Technically, maybe, I can't truly say that until next Wednesday--the day before my sister's cells are actually transfused into me. However, tomorrow is the first day of the actual regimen, so that's how I'm feeling.
And I'm more optimistic about how effective this transplant is going to be against fighting my cancer and any future outbreaks of it than I was with the autologous transplant I had in August of 2011, when my own cancer-free cells were put back in me. Surprisingly, Dr. Hoda understands my logic and agrees with me.
But I also feel like this second transplant will change me forever. That's a good thing (no more cancer for a while), but it's also a bad thing (as graft-versus-host-disease kicks in and Tressie's cells war against my own). I feel like there will be some GVHD complications that will permanently be with me for the rest of my life.
Like so many things in life, this process has amazing parallels to the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Dr. Daanish said that we'll know the transplant was a success when, after some months or possibly a year have passed, they draw my blood and no longer see the properties of my own blood but see only the properties of Tressie's blood. When they look at my blood, they'll see only her blood. My immune system will be totally replaced by hers at that point, and that transformation will heal me of cancer.
Isn't that just what this life is about in spiritual terms? I'm trying to become like my Savior, Jesus Christ. I'm trying to let Him in me so deeply that when people look at me they see only Him--what He would do and what He would say if He were still on the Earth.
And only by accepting Him and becoming more like Him can He heal me--my sins and the pains and unjustices of this world.
Something to think about :-)
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Bone Marrow Schedule
The new schedule for my allogeneic, haplo, stem cell, bone marrow transplant (BMT) is as follows:
*Friday, February 7
7 am: Have a central line placed by LDS Hospital's radiology department
11:30 am: Start Fludarabine and Cyclophosphamide chemo
*Saturday, February 8
10 am: More Fludar. and Cyclo. chemo
*Sunday, February 9
??? am: More Fludar. chemo
*Monday, February 10
11:30 am: More Fludar. chemo
*Tuesday, February 11
11:30 am: More Fludar. chemo
**Wednesday, February 12
9:00 am: Admit to LDS Hospital for total body irradiation and BMT
**Thursday, February 13
Receive my sister's stem cells and let them start the war between my Hodgkins-loving cells and her Hodgkins-fighting white blood cells
Sunday, February 16
Start high-dose chemo to kill my sister's T cells
Monday, February 17
More high-dose chemo
Tuesday, February 18
Start Tacrolimus and Mycophenolate to try and minimize any graft-versus-host-disease
~March, 8
Get discharged and start some period of being sequestered at home
Gee, aren't you jealous that your schedule isn't as exciting? LOL
*Usually patients are admitted for these days. However, because I've had so much chemo in my life and know what to expect, the BMT team is willing to let me try getting this regular dose chemo on an outpatient basis. If something feels wrong to me or I have any unforeseen complications, they'll then admit me.
**These are days that my sister is donating her stem cells through a dialysis-like process called aphoresis. Hopefully, I'll be allowed to visit her while she donates because she'll be in a room at the hospital that's considered part of the outpatient clinic at LDS Hospital on the 8th floor (which is the same floor where I'll be staying).
~This is my planned discharge date--3.5 weeks after being admitted. However, the BMT team told me to count on 4-5 weeks of hospitalization, which would stretch my discharge date until March 14. I know they told me to count on 4 weeks of hospitalization for the autologous BMT and I was out in exactly 3 weeks, so I'm hoping my 3.5 week plan works for their estimate of 4-5 weeks--especially because they're willing to let me try the first five days without being admitted.
*Friday, February 7
7 am: Have a central line placed by LDS Hospital's radiology department
11:30 am: Start Fludarabine and Cyclophosphamide chemo
*Saturday, February 8
10 am: More Fludar. and Cyclo. chemo
*Sunday, February 9
??? am: More Fludar. chemo
*Monday, February 10
11:30 am: More Fludar. chemo
*Tuesday, February 11
11:30 am: More Fludar. chemo
**Wednesday, February 12
9:00 am: Admit to LDS Hospital for total body irradiation and BMT
**Thursday, February 13
Receive my sister's stem cells and let them start the war between my Hodgkins-loving cells and her Hodgkins-fighting white blood cells
Sunday, February 16
Start high-dose chemo to kill my sister's T cells
Monday, February 17
More high-dose chemo
Tuesday, February 18
Start Tacrolimus and Mycophenolate to try and minimize any graft-versus-host-disease
~March, 8
Get discharged and start some period of being sequestered at home
Gee, aren't you jealous that your schedule isn't as exciting? LOL
*Usually patients are admitted for these days. However, because I've had so much chemo in my life and know what to expect, the BMT team is willing to let me try getting this regular dose chemo on an outpatient basis. If something feels wrong to me or I have any unforeseen complications, they'll then admit me.
**These are days that my sister is donating her stem cells through a dialysis-like process called aphoresis. Hopefully, I'll be allowed to visit her while she donates because she'll be in a room at the hospital that's considered part of the outpatient clinic at LDS Hospital on the 8th floor (which is the same floor where I'll be staying).
~This is my planned discharge date--3.5 weeks after being admitted. However, the BMT team told me to count on 4-5 weeks of hospitalization, which would stretch my discharge date until March 14. I know they told me to count on 4 weeks of hospitalization for the autologous BMT and I was out in exactly 3 weeks, so I'm hoping my 3.5 week plan works for their estimate of 4-5 weeks--especially because they're willing to let me try the first five days without being admitted.
Delays for Second Bone Marrow Transplant
I'm not sure what exactly happened, but I was supposed to have started chemo already, in preparation for my second bone marrow transplant (BMT)--this time an allogeneic haplo transplant.
I do know that my sister, Tabitha, who was going to be my donor said she hadn't been medically cleared to be my donor because she'd been to places in Mexico where there are malaria concerns.
So my sister, Tressie, stepped forward--even though she absolutely is terrified of all things medical, especially hospitals and needles. And I know the BMT team at LDS Hospital told Tressie that she'd be medically cleared, even if she had been to Mexico recently.
Like I said, not sure what happened with Tabitha; but I am grateful that Tressie is willing to be tortured by medical personnel on my behalf.
BUT this all puts a damper on my schedule. I think it's by divine design though.
I feel like things will change for the worse somehow in my life. I feel like the transplant will extend my life for at least a few years (I'm hoping for 7-10), but that there will be some complications from the war between my cells and my sister's that won't be pleasant.
I was just beginning to gear up mentally to start that war when it all had to be postponed while Tressie completed the vetting process, so now I'm just anxious to get it started.
Plus, I feel like, if the transplant doesn't happen within two months of my last chemo dose, the Hodgkins will be back. My last chemo dose was December 11th, so we have a tight window that's contributing to my anxiety.
However, we have a new tentative schedule, so we should be okay.
I do know that my sister, Tabitha, who was going to be my donor said she hadn't been medically cleared to be my donor because she'd been to places in Mexico where there are malaria concerns.
So my sister, Tressie, stepped forward--even though she absolutely is terrified of all things medical, especially hospitals and needles. And I know the BMT team at LDS Hospital told Tressie that she'd be medically cleared, even if she had been to Mexico recently.
Like I said, not sure what happened with Tabitha; but I am grateful that Tressie is willing to be tortured by medical personnel on my behalf.
BUT this all puts a damper on my schedule. I think it's by divine design though.
I feel like things will change for the worse somehow in my life. I feel like the transplant will extend my life for at least a few years (I'm hoping for 7-10), but that there will be some complications from the war between my cells and my sister's that won't be pleasant.
I was just beginning to gear up mentally to start that war when it all had to be postponed while Tressie completed the vetting process, so now I'm just anxious to get it started.
Plus, I feel like, if the transplant doesn't happen within two months of my last chemo dose, the Hodgkins will be back. My last chemo dose was December 11th, so we have a tight window that's contributing to my anxiety.
However, we have a new tentative schedule, so we should be okay.
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