Gratitude

Thank you.  Two very small words that hardly begin to express the gratitude we feel as we look at the long list of names of friends, family, acquaintances, and even strangers, who have donated to our housing/medical fund.  First of all, we are so appreciative of our dear friends, Sheridan and Ray, for convincing us that setting up a fund was an acceptable solution, and then making that happen for us.  And then the response...absolutely overwhelming.  It's hard for me to wrap my brain around the help and support.  As difficult as it was to ask for help, it's such an incredible relief to know that we no longer have to stress about paying these housing bills.  As I sit here tonight, on the eve of my transplant, my list of worries is long--my kids (how much I miss them), worried about missing their last day of school tomorrow, worried about whether or not I'll be able to keep my meds down tonight (suffering mild nausea from chemo and my new immunosuppressants that I started on Tuesday), worried about having to endure full-body radiation tomorrow, worried about how my system will respond to my donor's cells, worried about how I'll get through these next 100 long days.  We have a full plate of worries, so to receive the gift of not having to worry about money right at this moment is an extraordinary blessing.  Thank you.

Tomorrow is the day.  It's strange, after talking about it for so long, and working through the long preparation process, that's it's finally the time.  I've survived the three days of conditioning chemo with few problems (a little fatigue and nausea).  Tomorrow morning, a 21 year-old woman will give up several hours of her day to go through the aphaeresis process, where they will remove her blood, sort out the stem cells, and replace the leftovers.  Those cells will be hand-carried on to a plane and will arrive in Seattle around 9:30pm.  The courier will then carry them to a cell lab at Fred Hutch, where they will be treated and prepared for infusion.  Meanwhile, at 8pm tomorrow night, I'll be admitted to the UW Medical Center and will be prepared to receive the cells.  At approximately 1:30am, the cells will arrive at the hospital and the transplant will begin.  The infusion lasts approximately two hours, and there's little fanfare.  It looks like a basic bag of blood that will be hooked up to my Hickman line.  Not very exciting, but at the same time, so very exciting.  These cells could have the power and strength to attack and kill the stubborn myeloma cells in my marrow.  These cells will completely change the make-up of my body.  I will inherit a brand-new immune system and blood type (after learning that my donor is 21, I joked that I'd also love to inherit her energy, metabolism, and collagen, too).  We hope that this simple infusion will extend my life by many, many years.  This is the beginning of a long road, but so worth every bump along the way.