It’s crazy how this disease has a mind of its own. Every time I think I can plan and organise, the powers that be say, “Girl, let it go. This is not in your hands.” While I know I have the power to aid in my healing through positive mental attitude and a good diet, filling my body with nutritional and healthy things, I am aware that the timing of things happening throughout this disease is not in my control. Lessening control of that around me and allowing others to do things for me is something I struggle with hugely. Not being in control is just as difficult for me and I am convinced that part of what I must learn from having this is to relinquish control of the things that don’t matter, allow others to help me so that I can enjoy life. The last few years I have experienced such inner conflict with where I am in my life, situationally and mentally. I have struggled with wanting more but not knowing what more is and knowing that really it’s not the answer. I am slowly learning new thought patterns, new ways to appreciate life and others, of accepting what I’m doing, where I am, that some things are not meant to be and that others are. But yet I still cling to trying to control rather than enjoying.
Anyway, all this self-perspective has come about because I went up to see Dr. S last week to discuss further options and next stage of chemo, etc. When I left hospital last I was put on steroids (Prednisone) for all those fun reactions I’d been having and Dr. S was a bit concerned that these may have been masking what the actual disease was doing. So he advised me he was going to take me off them very rapidly. Monday I took my last one and almost immediately I had a temperature, lymph nodes on my neck popped up, I felt that sore muscle and tender to the touch skin feeling. Ugh. So yesterday we were up at the clinic again with the doctors telling me, okay, we’re doing the bone marrow transplant like next week! I was completely and utterly overwhelmed. Not about the bone marrow transplant. That doesn’t bother me, it’s exciting really to think that my brother can donate some of his bone marrow that essential may provide a new lease of life for my sick body. What freaked me out was the concept of not having time to get organised, to plan. Knowing that I will be there for 100 days after the transplant, (at the Lodge, not in hospital), I knew I needed time to prepare, to sort out work, to make up my little boxes of tech stuff, of books, of all those things that will allow me to feel like I have a nurturing and healing environment. We met with several doctors and nurses and coordinators and I just kept bursting into tears, because I was feeling utterly rushed. Eventually K and I were taking a break and having a sandwich and Julie, (she’s the coolest!), came over and said, “Look, just go home, take the next few days to relax, absorb everything, enjoy your family. Start again next week.” So we did.
Today was a better day. We were able to speak to Luc, get some of our timeline questions answered from our transplant coordinator and have a better overall picture of what needs to happen. As it turns out we’ll head up to the clinic on Sunday evening/Monday for a day of testing - PET scan, bone marrow biopsy (yet another one), EKG, a lot of labwork, chest x-ray and all sorts of other fun stuff. Then I have the rest of the week to get myself sorted, put in for my time off at work, figure out clothes to take (!), etc, etc. Luc comes in the following weekend for his testing, not as intensive as mine but equally as annoying I’m sure. On the 7th I am admitted to hospital and my killer chemo starts. This is seven days of chemo that will kill as much of everything in my bone marrow as possible, emptying it out so that the new stem cells can do their thing. I have a day of “rest” (ha-ha) and then on the 15th the transplant takes place. They’ll harvest the bone marrow from my brother in the morning and then transfuse it into me in the afternoon. Obviously these dates could change slightly, but those are our goals. The British Leukaemia Research has an excellent booklet on Blood and Bone Marrow Transplantation The Seven Steps. It is really informative and better than anything I’ve seen yet over here, not that I’ve seen much here mind you but I’ve not done huge searching. It also has a bit for the donor who seems to get overlooked in the whole process, at least from what I can tell. And yet, without the donor…as with everything that has gone on during this experience I am overwhelmed and excited that my brother will be leaving his newborn baby and wife at a time when he is needed there and unselfishly offering up a litre - a litre and a half of his bone marrow in order to essentially save my life. How completely humbling is that?
Filed under: bone marrow disorder, cancer, T-cell Lymphoma on June 19th, 2008 | 5 Comments »