One week in

Well, that's seven days in from the transplant, and the early signs are quite good. My donor cells are a little lower than they could be, so the doctors are debating whether to put me on a growth hormone to get them moving along faster. Other than that, there's been no signs of rejection or anything like that; things could be a lot worse.

Day to day, though, I am feeling much worse, lately. The consultant informed me the other day that days six through ten seem to be when the side effects are at their worst, and her prediction certainly seems accurate enough. I vomited up my nasal feeding tube, this morning, much to everyone's dismay. My mucositis and platelet counts are bad enough now that they daren't attempt the insertion of a new one, mercifully, so it looks like I'll be getting what nutrition I can get from high-calorie milkshakes, for the next week or so. If I get an infection, though, it looks like I'll just need to put up with the resulting weight loss; they seem extremely reluctant to feed me through my Hickman line, for fear that that might cause all sorts of awful complications.

Speaking of the mucositis, they started me on oramorph, an oral preparation of morphine sulphide, today. It is absolutely wonderful; my mouth and throat are hardly bothering me at all, now. I don't know how long they would keep giving me it for, though, there tend to be protocols in place to avoid the possibility that I'd develop dependencies on the various stronger drugs I'm on from time to time. For now, though, I'm enjoying being able to drink a glass of water without wincing too much.

Aside from all of that, things seem to be going quite well. My insides feel noticibly more comfortable and settled now that I've got rid of the nasal tube, which is a nice change. On the other hand, my hair has started falling out now; at the rate it's going, I expect I'll be entirely bald by Saturday or Sunday. It dawned on me today that, by the time I can grow my hair back to its usual length, I'll probably be too old for that sort of nonsense.

So, a mixed bag, this week. Things are generally going well, if a bit uncomfortably. With luck I'll start perking up again around about this time next week. Can't wait.

Good night.