Monday, 24 March 2008

Another rare update

Wow, it's been a while since I updated this. In my defence, there really hasn't been anything at all going on over the past couple of months; I've been at home the whole time, left completely to my own devices but for the odd visit to one of Glasgow's many, many hospitals for checkups or tests or, more recently, consultations with the departments which I'll be dealing with over the next couple of months. All good things come to an end, as the saying ventures and my own situation upholds; I've been given the date of my stem cell transplant, so on the third of April I'll be reprising my inpatient status for (if all goes according to plan) another six to eight week stint.

I'm somewhat ambivalent towards the transplant. On the one hand, it quite dramatically improves my prospects on the long term: I've got about twice the chance of still being around in five years with the transplant than without. On the other, its negative effects on my short term well-being can hardly be overstated; the most positive consult I've had warned me that I'll feel "worse than I ever have before", and the immediate post-transplant protocol includes a week of intravenous diamorphine which, I'm told, won't stop the pain but will instead "stop me caring about it." I plan to spend as much as possible of the following fortnight asleep.

The transplant conditioning procedure, carried out in the week prior to the transplant date, consists of three days of massive doses of cyclophosphomide, followed by four doses of what the consent form described as an "ordinarily fatal dose" of radiation. In addition to this, I will be administered an immunosuppressant antibody treatment, Campath. The purpose of all of this is to eliminate entirely my own immune system, and clear out any remaining tumour cells lurking in my bone marrow. After the final day of radiotherapy, I'll be infused (exactly like a blood transfusion) with the donor cells; the transplant itself is just as simple as that. Over the next six weeks, it's hoped that the donor cells will graft successfully onto my bone marrow, whereupon they'll assume almost all of the roles previously administered by my pre-leukaemia immune system. Following the transplant, I should essentially be cured; all that's left is prophylaxis and isolation while the graft takes, and anti-GVHD immunosuppression afterwards. Oh, and a whole lot of assorted reasons for feeling awful, of course. This should all begin to tail off around day 100 (day 0 being the transplant date), though, and then I should be free to start working on getting my health back and getting on with my studies.

As for the next week and a bit, however, I should remain at home. I expect I'll spend these as I've spent the past month or so: watching TV, eating home-cooked meals, working with my photographs — I intend to prepare an album for the staff of Ward 24 — and playing about with my computer stuff. For now, though, I'd better get some sleep.

5 comments:

Unknown said...

Thanks, Simon, for keeping us up to date. This sounds like a big thing your facing but it also sounds like you're preparing well for it - like a marathon runner or an artctic explorer .... or someone even more amazing.

Unknown said...

Simon, all the best for this next bit of treatment - from All at The Anchorage

Lisa said...

Hi Simon
I am a former parent of your Dad's old nursery Glenwood. I would just like to say that I wish you well for today. Your blog is inspirational and I see you are a keen photographer, do you get that from your Dad? Your Dad encouraged my daughter Fern into photography and she is still very keen on photography today as she was in Glenwood, thanks to him.
All the very best,


Lisa

The Mitchells said...

Simon
We are all sending our very best wishes for this stage in your treatment-hear that you are now in the new "state of the art" treatment resource-once this is all over you can do a review of treatment resources in the West of Scotland complete with photographic diary.
Lots of love and all that
Eugene, Alison ,Neal ,Euan and Liam

Unknown said...

Best wishes from Donegal, Simon. You are always in our thoughts and prayers even though life, as you know, tends to go on.

cousin Colm whom you met a couple of years ago at the beginning of your academic adventure.
Colm O Donnell