Sunday, September 7, 2008

To say that this transplant experience is vastly different from my first would be quite an understatement. If I'm remembering correctly, I sailed through the cord blood transplant with only a handful of bad days when I felt a little wilted around the edges. Of course there was nausea and neuropathy, but that's par for the course.

This go round things are really different. The conditioning chemo hasn't knocked me on my bottom, yet and I haven't started projectile vomiting. My energy levels seem relatively normal for me. I've been warned that this will change in a handful of days.

Last night, just before going to bed I had a scary moment. My bones started to ache like someone was exerting a lot of pressure from the inside. Of course my mind jumped to the worst. Bone pain can mean a number of things. It could be due to injections meant to stimulate your cells to multiply. It could also be a symptom of relapse. The logical part of my brain should have realized that I'd just come off of a pretty serious chemo regimen and that the likelihood that the leukemia had returned was slim. I must not have been listening.

I complained to Chris and he paged the night nurse to ask for some pain killers. When she arrived we asked her what might be going on. She admitted that she'd seen it before in as a transplant nurse, but wasn't sure of the mechanics behind the cause. She later came back after talking to the charge nurse about it to reassure us that we shouldn't worry. I tried to relax and was finally able to when the darvon kicked in and put a stop to the deep ache in my legs. My arms continued to throb, but I didn't let that stop me from going to sleep.

Today we talked to Dr. Andersson about the phenomena and he asked if it had happened with the first transplant. When I told him that nothing like it had happened his second theory was that I had been infused with such a large quantity of fluid that the pain was my body's way of adjusting to the change. Considering the size of the marrow bag and the amount of saline I get on a daily basis I can believe this.

I haven't had anymore problems today. In fact, I slept for most of it thanks to a large dose of benadryl ahead of an IVIG infusion. I'm still a little puffy and my pajamas are a little snug thanks to the extra fluid I'm carrying. C'est la vie.

On a much happier note, I want to wish my friend Patricia a very happy first birthday. Here's to hoping she has many, many more.


Anonymous said...

you poor thing. what you've got to (chris too) go through sounds excruciating. that was a huge bag. not that i have any frame of reference but i'm surprised the donor had any left!
i'm hoping last night was the worst of it and you can get on with your life as usual soon.
p.s. your jammies look very snuggly.

Anonymous said...

Need a new update please!