Happy Birthday to Me

 The stem cells are in. Infused through my central line from 8:15 pm to 9:30 pm on Thursday, March 16th (my new birthday, or rebirthday). As everyone warned me, it was a bit anti-climatic. After blessing the cells (more on that later), a bag resembling tomato soup was hung on my IV line, and just like that, the stem cells that a 20-year female had donated yesterday, were now dripping into my veins. 

While I wasn't surprised at how mundane it was to hang a bag of stem cella, I was at least a little surprised at how I felt. It's equal parts relief and hope -- relief in that this long journey which began back in July 2022 with my transformed lymphoma re-diganosis has finally gotten to this point. I hadn't realized how this burden of waiting had weighed on me. When the cells started dripping, I felt a wave of lightness (not to be confused with light-headedness) wash over me. Sure, there will be days ahead when darkness will try to play its king-of-the-hill game with my psyche. But for now I'll embrace that lightness which shows up as a hope this is the beginning to an eventual life without lymphoma. That's our hope. 

We are not a church-going or temple-going family, but we had the Brigham chaplain offer a humanitarian blessing of the stem cells, which was nicer than I thought it would be, and not as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. The blessing included a passage about the love and support received -- and needed --  from family, friends and colleagues. It was a nice moment for me to think of the tremendous support and love I've felt - especially during these last few months. In the form of comments here on the blog, on Facebook, through text message, phone calls, and even Zoom meetings, it has been uplifting. 

The chaplain could have added nurses and doctors and my entire care team to that long list of supporters. It wouldn't be original of me to write about the incredible compassion and skill that my care team exudes but the trait that sticks out the most to me is that they seem unflappable. They display a calmness that is contagious - maybe the only thing you want to catch in a hospital. 

So what's next? Recovery. My counts (red blood cells, white blood cells, etc.) will continue to drop as the chemo continues to take hold. So there will be fatigue, which makes sense. Anemia - or low red blood cells often shows up as fatigue. And increased risk of infection - also makes sense, as you need white blood cells to fight off infection. So I'll be here at the Brigham for another 2+ weeks; expectation is that it's 13-16 days from today. But it all depends on how well, and how quickly my body recovers.  

So keep that positive energy coming my way, between it, my Ted Lasso Believe light, the Chaplain blessing, and the care of my transplant team, we'll get through this.