I thought My Transplant Failed

I called the doctor’s office.  I had taken a week off work to go to Florida to meet my new-born first grand son.  Instead, I was in misery and wondered if my transplant had failed.  

I had sweats, chills, constant coughing, and an episode of explosive vomiting, which is ultimately better than trying to breath deep and hope you can “keep it down.”  

I spoke to a nurse who determined I had the flu.  She said don’t come coughing in here, we’re full and busy.  She gave me a prescription for cough syrup with codeine.  I had an appointment with my oncologist in about a week, so I just concentrated on resting and getting better.

When I did see my doctor, I asked if I was in remission. She said “partial remission.”  I asked what is the difference between partial and full remission.  “Very expensive and intrusive testing” was her answer, so, I think I can be happy with partial remission.  

If this is partial remission, I could enjoy it the rest of my life.  

I passed the 6 month mile marker since my transplant.  The reward for that is to stop taking two horse pills daily (Acyclovir 800mg).  They’re the size that when I put one in my mouth and take a couple swigs to wash it down it will often stick there like the start of a log jamb in the back of my throat.  

Because of a low white blood count, I am also to temporarily quit taking my daily low dose of Revlimid.

A friend of mine, Jerry Wright, had cancer. His wife posted this on their site a couple weeks before he died on December 15th. Tami, I hope you don’t mind me reposting it here:

Written for Jerry Dec 2, 2013 8:32pm

I think it’s safe to say that Jerry’s happiest times and fondest memories are a result of time spent on the shores, and in the waters, of Suttle Lake where he delighted to camp since he was a toddler…..where he was determined he would teach me to waterski (NOPE), and where he was sure I would learn to love camping as much as he did (well…maybe).

Jerry commented last evening, as we prepared for the night, that he was ready to fold up….I think he meant for the night, but it reminded me of the process of “breaking camp” at Suttle Lake….a lengthy process that included folding up the tent; this folding took time…it was about the least fun of all the activities, and though it had quite a presence when it was erected, when the tent was folded you knew the camping trip was pretty much over.

Jerry’s tent is folding…he hasn’t eaten in nearly two weeks, sleeps most of the time, and is surviving on small sips of water and tea. I feel like we’re breaking camp; putting things in order…preparing for the trip home; one last stroll to the shore…reminiscing about what a great time it was….and this is what I read in 2 Corinthians 5:1 today:

“For we know that if the earthly tent which is our house is torn down, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.”

Tamara