Crossing 90

“If you start to take Vienna – take Vienna!!”

Napoleon Bonaparte – on keeping focused on a goal, applying overwhelming force, and not getting distracted.

 

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Please check out my formal journal at CURE Magazine, a world wide publication found in every oncologist's office. They have asked me to share my transplant experience. I also encourage you to read this post: How My Cancer Might Save Your Life. It's a quick read, and if you pay close attention, you'll be a different person afterwards. 100% guaranteed, or triple your money back. I also highly recommend TJ & Jen Sharpe's blog, mainly about melanoma but useful for all cancer patients, Patient 1

May 19, 2015 Transplant Day +88

Things continue to roll along. Tomorrow we head back to Moffitt for my weekly visit, but this time I get the first half of what is normally a two day onsite workup. I go for the second half on June 4. Usually these two days of tests are the "graduation exercise" for people before they are released to go home at Day 90. Since I'm already home, they divided it up so we don't have to stay in a hotel two or three nights. Tomorrow its CT scans, pulmonary function tests, and major blood work. June 4 its eye exam, bone marrow biopsy, and more lab work.

Day 90 is the milestone that means the chances of acute Graft vs Host disease are very very low. At the 6 month mark, we start watching for signs of chronic GvH, but until then it's mostly about avoiding infections. Which is hard work, and keeps me busy with dozens of hand washings a day, and not doing a lot of things I didn't realize I'd miss, like yard work.

The big news from last week's visit is that I was cleared to drive. My reaction times, which I've always considered pretty slow (thus my last place finish for years in the Playground Draft) were actually darned good, averaging around 0.5 to 0.7 seconds against a 1 second requirement, based on a video game that makes Pong look sophisticated. Blood work continues to be really good, with white count somewhat depressed (Doc says it's the anti rejection drug). He also stopped one drug that manages side effects, and tomorrow I will go off the anti rejection drug, which is a little scary.

I've been doing a small amount of work from home throughout this adventure, mainly keeping email under control and staying near the loop for some major things going on. Next week, Tuesday, I am cleared to go back to the office for a few hours a day, which will be a huge step. Getting to see all my friends at the Center, and starting to participate in person, will really be a boost to my recovery.

I did have an interesting occurrence this week, darned near unique. I had a blog post rejected by my new editor at Cure, who felt I was straying off the message they hired me for. Early in my writing career, I collected rejection "letters" (an obsolete form of communication involving paper and a lot of waiting), eventually amassing a file drawer full before I pitched them out to make space for some other junk. Since 1993, though, I've only had two pieces bounced, so I guess out of several hundred published articles, columns and blog posts that's not too bad. What was the offending document, you ask? (KB pantomimes waiting, hand cupped to ear). It was an updated version of the post, How My Cancer Might Save Your Life, that I advertise in the banner to each post here. Upon reflection, I see that it really didn't fit the intent of my agreement with the magazine, so I'm over it. Really. But I will ask, have you read and considered what I say in that most heartfelt essay? I wrote it sitting at the bedside of my daughter in the summer of 2013 while she recovered from an automobile accident, and I can't begin to express how deep my feelings are about you, my friends and readers, changing your lives for the better.

The best part of this enforced time away from my friends, neighbors and co-workers is the way all of you made extra efforts to stay in touch. Visits, cards, emails, texts, FB messages, FB posts, comments on blogs, and phone calls all really helped me feel your caring. I appreciate each and every communication, and thank you for them.