My preparation for a month in hospital hasn’t been what I’d planned. I thought I would be doing more exercise. The blister on my leg stayed for two weeks (I called it Stanley - figured it should have a name if it was moving in), and I had a bone marrow biopsy that is still sore a week later. (I passed on the option of having sedation during the bone marrow biopsy. It proved a mistake. It hurt. I took a few deep breaths during the procedure, and yes, the pain passed. In future, I’ll take the sedation.) Also, I need to stay out of the sun (chemo makes me more vulnerable to skin cancer), so the exercise has been limited.
In preparation I’ve been writing my will, and planning the playlist for my wake.
I’m still concerned with the state of the house. We’re having a little party for Matilda before I go in. That’s motivation to clean up the house.
I haven’t packed yet. I’ll be taking juices, ginger beer, plain crisps. A portable DVD player and a tablet. A little clock radio. Some books. Pen and paper, and maybe some drawing pencils.
Although I’ve officially been in remission for a while, I’ve still been tired due to recovering from chemo, and a low hemoglobin count.
I’m going in on 23 April. The first two days I have some tests and protective treatments, and get my line in. Then I have the 25th off. I don’t know what I’ll do yet. I could hang out at the nearby shops, or see a movie. Or come home and clean up and listen to my children - will they being singing or squabbling?. Or I could organise a lunch with friends. I don’t know yet. Then I go back and begin - chemo and radiation therapy. My sister has her stem cells extracted on May 1, and I have the transplant on May 2. Then they just try to keep me alive with drugs and transfusions. My schedule continues until Day 110 after the transplant.
I saw my doctor yesterday and feel more confident about the whole thing. The only way past it is through, and it will be OK. So, now I’m concentrating on what I want to do when I’m well again: horseriding, swimming in the ocean, singing and dancing and hooping, feeling energetic and free. Once I’ve dealt with the worst, I can hope for the best. It helps that so many people are with me.