| I found a doctor recommended by a friend of my husband’s at work; they had just been through it. This doctor more or less said I could have more time if I would go with a stem cell transplant. He might actually be able to give me about five years. He may as well have said five minutes; I was devastated. My youngest was a junior in high school, my second son was expecting their first child, and I had four young grandchildren. I agreed to the stem cell and after having two ports put in and much chemo, I had 10 painful neuprogen shots to build up the stem cells and marrow and pheresis to pull off the stem cells and then a weekend of steady chemo. We were ready. I was put in an isolated hospital room, given a 30 day calendar where my stats would go up daily and days would be marked off and there I began an arduous journey of rebirth. We whacked those bad cells and then re-injected those good stem cells and watched my counts grow a little better each day. My husband had taken the month off to spend with me and I was so grateful. My youngest son spent a few nights with me as did my husband and I was in such a delightful daze I don't actually remember the few side effects I had. I do know they were not nearly as bad as the things they told me could happen. Then on day 27 they took out my exterior port and at about 9:00 p.m. we headed home. I was sick as a dog and though it was May, I was frozen and couldn’t wait to get home and climb under the covers where I spent most of the next two days, at least when I wasn't throwing up or running to the bathroom. It is now 2009 and my five year deadline has long since passed, and still when I feel bad or have a bad day I worry. But I have seen four more grandchildren born, my youngest son married, and my oldest grandaughter graduate and start college and become engaged. Life is good. You can survive. |
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