Yeah. I reused a joke from the same silly ‘80s comedy series. It’s just too appropriate not to.

Wow. There’s finally a moment to catch my breath. So much happened today. I’m pretty tired, but I find these posts as therapeutic for me as they are updates for the friends and family reading them.

My sister donated her stem cells today. They call this “harvesting” in the medical biz. They needed a minimum of 5 million cells from her. She gave them 27.9 million. How crazy is that? On Wednesday, I’ll receive 7 million of them, and the rest will be preserved if I need boosts during my recovery. Sarah was definitely an overachiever today.

Sarah was always the best sister a brother could ask for. I never would have believed it possible, but she even upped her game from that! How lucky am I?

While Sarah was donating her cells—I can’t bring myself to use “harvesting”—I received my final round of chemo. This was the big one. Much harsher than the first four.

At least for now, the side effects have been quite mild. Chemo effects tend to be delayed and cumulative, so it probably won’t last for long, but so far, I’ve dodged the worst of it. In fact, all things considered, I’m feeling pretty good. I had to chew on ice for about two hours, before, after and during the chemo. They say this is to prevent sores from developing in your mouth. At least for now, it seems to have worked. I did have some strange smell and taste for a little bit, which was expected, but it wasn’t as bad or as long-lasting as I anticipated. It was more like having a superhero’s sense of smell, and some things tasted a bit like burnt toast. As I write this now, both of those seem to have subsided. Apart from being tired—which I always am by this time of night anyway—I’m feeling okay. I didn’t have much of an appetite today, but I managed to eat, and never was particularly nauseated. I was a little queasy immediately after the chemo, but a few crackers helped with that.

The second act of the day was in Radiology. But let’s briefly review that situation.

It’s common for people with MDS to have enlarged spleens. The spleen basically decides to take it upon itself to try to compensate for the cells that my marrow isn’t properly producing. This causes it to grow larger and larger. (Mine is about 19 cm, or about 50% larger than it should be. We were told mine was by no means the largest they’d seen; some people come in with spleens that are three or four times the size they ought to be!)

The immediate problem with this is that it acts as a trap for the stem cells I will be receiving on Wednesday. That would mean the transplant would fail.

My brother-in-law offered up this brilliant hypothesis: remember the drug-induced dream I wrote about when the giant chicken was demonically ordering me away from its dice, which were, oddly, scattered across the floor of a huge room? His analysis is that the dice were representing the stem cells I’ll receive for the transplant, and the giant chicken was representing my giant-ass spleen. This is the best interpretation of this dream I have yet received, and it thereby rises to the top of the pile.

So I took a trip down to Radiology to have a low dose of radiation administered to my spleen. This will trick it into not trying to make up for my malfunctioning marrow anymore. That, in turn, will mean the stem cells won’t get trapped in it, and will also cause it to shrink down to something like a normal size.

So yes. “Honey, I shrunk my spleen—literally.”

Humor is what’s keeping me going right now. My sister and brother-in-law are among the funniest people I know, and their ability to make me laugh has been a sanity saver.

Only one more day to get through before the transplant finally happens after the long, long wait.

I went in with a lot of anxiety today; the harsher chemo and the radiation treatment were making me a little nervous.

Modern medicine is amazing. The day went much better than I could have ever expected, and Sarah got through the donation process with flying colors.

The giant chicken has been vanquished!

One more day and we can start vanquishing the cancer, too.