The Day

I have been telling myself and others that today isn't that big a deal. It is transplant day, the one we have been counting down to. But when a lot of people hear "transplant," they're thinking surgery and organs. In my case, at 2:00 this afternoon, a bag of stem cells from sister Mara will quickly drip into me. I've been having fluids dripped into me and pulled out of me for seven weeks.

Sometimes there are immediate side effects, sometimes delayed. (One IV medication a couple of days ago came with a warning of brief but excruciating anal burning, unless administered very slowly. "Now, I know I have no medical training, but I do have a suggestion....")

For today's transplant/transfusion, there are no immediate side effects. The graft cells (Mara's) quickly head to my vacant marrow and start to make themselves at home. It takes some days. I may feel more tired than I have been. Eventually, infections have their shot at the defenseless body, and the graft cells may not play well with host organs, but initially things should be quiet.

So, I've been thinking of today as full of significance but without excitement.

However, my sleep tells me I'm not fooling myself. I had a poor night of sleep that I cannot blame on the staff. My "midnight" vitals check comes at 1:30, giving me a rare long initial round of sleep. Then I am mostly awake until 4:00. Not stressed, not tired. It is the wakeful vigilance of a seven-year-old on Christmas morning, opening his eyes at 2:30 to see if it's gotten light enough to count as morning so he can run downstairs and open one present. It's not. Not at 2:50, either. Or 3:30. Or 4:00. But then I do fall back asleep, perhaps because I'm back to the usual rhythm of being awakened every hour for a vitals check, drip change, or bloodletting.

Anyway, it is finally Christmas/Second Birthday morning, and it is a big deal, but I will be able to wait patiently until 2:00 to open my present.