Wednesday, September 23, 2015

It's on like Don Key Kong

Well week three of the two week testing is in the bag.  Monday was a mellow 9 viles of blood work then a 2.5 hour meeting with my transplant Dr. and the head nurse to sign the final "its a go" papers. Meaning that we are checking into the hospital on Friday and starting chemo.  The meeting had a different tone than last weeks vibe that this whole shit show was going to be mellower than we thought.  The severity of what is going to go down was gone thru in depth.  15% chance of dying, 60% chance of getting graft vs. host, this percent of getting this, that percent of getting that...on an on an on.  It kind of threw me for a loop.  I asked where my disease falls in the spectrum of cancers and Dr. Georges said its in the mid way zone.  That the scarring of the marrow from the Myelofibosis ups the consequences because it complicates things a little more.
BUT, he did say that we timed this whole thing perfectly.  That where we are with the disease and how far it's progressed in me is the "perfect" time to move forward with fixing the problem.  "You've pushed this thing as far as possible without really having any symptoms of the Myelofibrosis, and for the most part have been able to live a normal life."  Uh really?  Maybe I'll give him a link to this well written blog so he can see how few symptoms I've had.
Health wise though, I passed with flying colors.  Except for the mellow blood clot I got going in my stomach from the spleen surgery that they'll rectify by doubling down my dose of blood thinner shots that Lisa gives me once a day to now two times a day.  Fun.
I had to ask him the what if question.  "Doc, what IF I said fuck it?  I don't want to go thru all of this.  That I just want to let this play out, what's your prediction?"  He said that seeing how we ran this as far as possible without having to deal with many of the symptoms of the disease, that the disease would begin to showing its ugly face.  With the spleen out, my liver would start to be effected and begin to shut down.  I'd need multiple blood transfusions.  Blood clots would be common.  My kidneys would be screwed.  We'd still have to be on a shit ton of drugs, immune suppressants,  blood thinners, etc, etc, etc.  My quality of life would drastically go down and that I'd maybe last 3-5 years.  So that ended that little pipe dream and back to reality, which means back to the pain train.
Tuesday we did a food safety class, as well as another run thru with a transplant nurse on the transplant.  This confirmed the Monday meetings vibe that things are going to be not so fun for a while.
Today I got to visit my ole buddy Fentanyl because they installed a Hickman line into me.  The Hickman is a silicone line with two ports that is inserted into my chest and hooked into an artery so they can easily draw blood for testing, give me blood, chemo, stem cells and of course...lots of drugs. 
On one hand I'm happy that all this jerking off to the main event is over, but I got to admit, I've been having some serious sit down and cry moments thinking about whats coming up and how it's going to fuck with Lisa and the kids.
 Pity party aside, one more visit tomorrow back to Cancer Care to get taught how to care for my Hickman and then Friday morning, 8AM it's on like Donkey Kong.

 A freshly implanted Hickman Line.  Yes I'm a skinny pussy.  Commence the heckle. 
Thank God for this chick.  She has been about as awesome as someone could be.  People at SCCA think we're drunk when we show up because we've been coping with this shitty situation by laughing our asses off together every day we go there.  Whether we want to or not.  It's been a nice distraction from reality.  I hope we keep it going.
Here's a liter of metal water that I had to drink so they could then do a CT scan of my stomache and find the blood clot.  Tasty.
My buddy Tony and his lovely wife sent me a box of goods to pass the time at the hospital.  I can't wait to bust this bad boy out and give it a full pull.
That was the last time I'll be able to do this with our pussy's, seeing how cats like to roll in shit, lick shit, dig in shit and what not.  Luckily we don't have to get rid of them.
With all the drugs these guys have been pumping me with, something was bound to...bind. 


  1. is it EVER TMI?
    No. it is NEVER TMI.

  2. should have pulled the turd out with the pocket pussy and sent it back fully loaded!

  3. Charge brother. Your bravery is power. Jwalk