A journal about the misadventures of a middle age southern gentleman who got backhanded by cancer.
The Call
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Just received a call that will save my life...they found a bone marrow donor for me. To say that I am thrilled and scared beyond all human reason would be an understatement.
I have to face it, I'm scared. It's a kind of scared of the unknown and immanent dread of something that is going to happen but you're not sure quite what. The bone marrow transplant is going to happen, I can't get out of it or I'll simply die. I don't really want to die yet, but I've seen my life wasted chasing one thing after another, while doing simply nothing. That is what is the worst. One of the biggest things that I hope doesn't happen is that I get through this, the chemo, the radiation, the sickness, weakness and time in the hospital and through all this, I'm not changed to the better, that I end up the same. I don't want that. I have always cared about what every one has said and thought of me, which I'm not very sure has done me any good or not. I've always obeyed the rules, waited my turn and put others before myself. I've done unto others as I would have them do unto me and tried to love my neighbor as myself. I b
"Your hair will grow back." "What have you got to be scared of, heaven?" (my favorite, from my mother) "We have people praying for you." (This is just my peeve) "Everything is going to be alright." (well it don't feel that way right now!) "So and So had cancer and they're all right now." (Goodie for them, I'm still scared.) And so forth. When you have been diagnosed with cancer, you are scared $#!+less. The fear doesn't stop, it sometimes gets put on the backburner while you do something else but you're scared all of the time in some shape, form or fashion. Cancer is on my mind just about every moment of the day. I'm about to lose 18 to 24 months of my life to recovery if I make it through. Sometimes I pop a prescription anxiety pill to take the edge off but that's only a temporary fix and a little later, the fear returns. With mine, every weekly blood test has me on edge....is the chemo still working? Wha
As with all explosions, it always starts with a little spark. With me, it was no different, what seemed minor and trivial turned out to be something massive. I have severe osteoarthritis and have regular visits to my rheumatologist. This was one of those trips that I had to have a blood test just to make sure everything was working the way it was supposed to. She comes back and says everything looks good except did I know I was little anemic? Anemic?! Anemic people looked pale and thin, had no energy and laid around in bed all day. Definitely not me, overweight, running around all the time, healthy except for some hypertension issues, but my white blood cell count number was 11,000 and the threshold is 9000 so I prance to my pharmacist, buy a bottle of iron and a bottle of B12 for good measure and reason that this will knock this out promptly. During this time, I was on the Obamacare plan, and a snag hit...my doctor suddenly retired. The thing about the ACA, you had to have a
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