I met with Dr. Donato today. She is my transplant doctor.
One of the first things she said to me was, “You look like you feel really miserable.” I had been thinking prior to that comment that I was feeling relatively good today. It still hurt to walk, but otherwise . . . Oh well. My personal take on that is that it had something to do with my bald head.
Here are a couple of tidbits you might find interesting. My three weeks prep time prior to transplant probably will include two weeks of lying in a hospital bed trying to recuperate from the damage of the radiation. If the damage is particularly bad, I may spend one of those weeks at the apartment. The third week I will get five chemo treatments (still in the hospital) to begin killing my bone marrow. I will then begin transplant.
The transplant will be a lot like a transfusion. The bone marrow will be in a big plastic bag and will enter through one of my veins. As the marrow enters, it will attach itself inside my bones and immediately begin boosting my immune system.
I found out that my donor – Dr. Donato calls him my dream donor – is not the same blood type as me. That surprised me. I thought one of the requirements was for the donor and receiver to be the same blood type, but Donato insisted it doesn’t matter. She then told me that my donor’s blood is type A and I am type B positive. But, she added, when the transplant is all done, my blood will no longer be B positive ever again. I will become type A forever and ever.
To perhaps emphasize a point, Donato said, “Just think – you’re going to have all that YOUNG 23 year old blood inside you.” I think she said ‘dream donor’ again.
It’s not like I haven’t thought of that several times. Frankly, it stresses me out. I don’t care for the taste of Mountain Dew, I don’t have an X-box, and for the life of me I have no clue who Lindsey Lohan is or why I should care. What WILL I do?
Nonetheless, I will continue to try and make those little concessions that reflect my younger, inner age.
Peace out.
Rick
6/8/05
You have a terrific sense of humor – especially in the middle of such challenges.
What’s worse than not having an X-box will be when you start singing songs from the sixties. You’re gonna get a few strange looks!
BTW, Lindsay would be devasted to learn that you don’t know who she is . . . she’s kind of a #$&#&^#& about those things.
Stay well!
I have finally gotten in to your corner — kept getting put out or something. So, today, Wednesday, I am ready to say a few words of wisdom. Your mind and soul are your salvation – and you are using both. I think you are a tribute to your father — your strength and courage are yours, but I see Sam there too. And, by the way, even I, at 80, know about Lindsey Lohann — cute and talented like Becky. Didn’t know your blood type is B — so was your fathers. And as soon as I get my new glasses I’ll be able o read this page. I marvel at your courage. Much love, Mom
Rick you are amazing! What a great sense of humor. I’ll bet most folks don’t know about this website. I will spread the word in my family and to the greater family when we have dad’s party next Sunday.
What an ordeal you are going through, your strenght is inspiring.
Barbara Goodrick