Wait…

Did I think yesterday was a long day?

“Hold my beer,” said Day -6.

So…yeah.

There’s one issue that took up a portion of the day that I’m not going to write about yet. For one thing, I think it’s still to fresh for me to be objective about; for another, it’s unresolved. Unresolved stories are not fun unless they’re the middle part of a trilogy, and I don’t have the energy to write the SCT version of The Empire Strikes Back. Although, I can sort of see how that would go: “Luke, the doctor never told you what happened to your stem cells, did he…”

A lot of things happened today. First, I feel compelled to note for the record, as the coffee snob that I am, that the coffee available down in Radiology is significantly better than the coffee on the transplant floor. Why this is or even would be is outside the scope of this post.

Down in Radiology this morning, they made a mold of each side of my body. I have no real idea how the technical aspects work, but at least from my perspective it was as if I laid down on a trough full of sand with a sheet over it. Beneath me, the sand shifted and moved around on its own until an imprint of my side, head-to-foot, was created in the sand. Then they did it again on the other side. It was interesting and slightly disconcerting, since it felt like the sand was moving of its own accord to form the correct shape. Or…if you’re like me…like it was one of those troughs where Khan kept the Ceti Eels in Star Trek II. How’s that for nightmare inducing? (Nothing crawled in my ear, I swear.)

While I was down there, they also measured various parts of my anatomy in every conceivable dimension. How wide is my head? How deep is my head? How wide and deep are my knees? My ankles? My hips, waist, stomach, chest, shoulders, elbows…

It reminded me of the scene in Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone when Olivander, the wandmaker, takes endless and increasingly more ridiculous measurements of parts of Harry’s body in order to match him to the perfect wand. (They didn’t subject me to measuring the distance between my nostrils, as Harry had to endure, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had.)

After that, I had breakfast and the second transfusion of the day. (The first had happened the night before, just after midnight.)

The transfusion was followed by fluids, followed by chemo. From my perspective as a patient, this really just amounted to a lot of different substances being pumped into my veins through plastic tubes.

While that was happening, my sister had her central line placement. She did great. Like me, it was very sore afterward, but she said having me give her the heads up on what to expect meant it wasn’t as bad for her, so that makes me happy. She’s amazing.

After visits from many combinations of family members, the day wrapped with a rousing round of Everything, Everywhere, All At Once, in which I had to clean myself as best I could with disinfectant wipes, had the bedding changed on my bed, had the dressing changed on my central line, and had to change my clothes. That was, now that I think of it, a lot of change.

As I write this, shortly before I settle in for the night, I am, as yet, having no effects one way or the other from the chemo. Whether it stays that way is to be seen, but so far so good.

The next three days should be a little quieter here at the hospital, as the only thing currently on the docket for me are chemo treatments each day. I’m hoping I can write here about other things on my mind. Monday, though, will be another crazy day like today.

I’ll just keep on breathing.