Day +1

Well, I've successfully made it through my stem cell transplant, plus one day, with no significant rejection issues or complications. The last week went about as smoothly as it could have gone; my couple of days of high-dose cyclophosphomide didn't cause any unexpected problems, and so far I've weathered the aftereffects of the total body irradiation as though it had been nothing at all. I spent most of the time during the week getting used to my surrounds at the very nice new Beatson unit at Gartnavel, which really is about as nice as a hospital can be, and just generally relaxing. All of the important parts and aspects of the unit seem to be quite smoothly operational now (it's only just opened, I'm the first transplant patient they've had here), but there are still little things waiting to be sorted out; lack of television reception, apparently, seems to be causing some patients trouble. I'm still getting on fine with my intermittent 3g internet access; I'll survive until they wire in some wireless broadband and, I daresay, even if they don't.

Anyway, I've been informed in no uncertain terms whatsoever that the next couple of weeks are going to be pretty unpleasant. The medicine is straightforwards enough, they'll just be keeping me on immunosuppressants to offset the chances of graft-versus-host disease — a sort of inverse of usual organ rejection, in which the graft rejects me — and a whole lot of anti-everythings to guard against infection. It sounds like I'll get an infection anyway, just as an inevitable result of having literally no white cells whatsoever, but that's what the vancomicin is there for. Aside from issues brought on by low counts, I also have acute radiation sickness to look forwards to; by all accounts, the amount of radiation I got last week should kill me — and it would, too, if it weren't for the donor stem cells. Soon after serious radiation exposure, i.e. today/tomorrow, I should expect my mouth and G.I. tract to ulcerate rather unpleasantly, to the extent that I really won't feel like eating anything for maybe a week or so. Therefore, I've been fitted (today) with a nasal feeding-tube which passes straight through my stomach and deposits (in tonight's meal) 1.5kg of sugar and milk protein goo into my gut. The experience of having the tube fitted was far and away the least pleasant I've ever had, and I very much hope that there are no problems with it. Very much so indeed.

Aside from that, there's really nothing to tell. Technically — if all has gone as well as it seems — I think I'm now cured of cancer, which is a nice thought. Now all that's left to do is survive the cure. Good night.