Day one of treatments

So yesterday was my one year anniversary of the donor transplant.  I arrived at the SCCA for a one-year follow-up set of appointments.  They will look for signs of cancer using three methods.  A bone marrow pull, a blood test and a PET scan.  Two of the tests began today but I won't know the results for a couple days.  The PET scan is on Wednesday.  I already received a score of "0" for all three tests once.  The question is, was that a fluke or will the transplant hold off the cancer cells from regrowing for longer (or forever)?  No worries, I have a feeling the news will be good.  If not, they will attack it again.

November 6, 2015 at the infusion center receiving the donor transplant.  

My oldest son, David was my caregiver at that time.

As far as the visit today, it started with fasting, then they took a record, sixteen vials of blood.  Not kidding.  The nurse joked that she would leave me with just enough blood to get to my next appointment, which was located in the famous torture chamber known as the bone marrow aspiration room.

It started, as always with some soft music in the background.  This time it was classical guitar.  It's very easy to ignore classical guitar.  It all sounds the same and I know the player has spent his or her lifetime trying to convince everyone that it's a legitimate classical instrument.  I just can't appreciate an instrument that requires a specialized, adjustable foot stool.  But back to the treatment.

An extremely kind nurse and a bone marrow lab technician were in the room.  The nurse had me lay on my side and hug a pillow.  That's their version of biting a piece of leather for the excruciating pain that is about to come.  She pulled my trousers down just a bit so she had a clear view of my hip area.  She shot some lidocaine into the skin and even explained that she shot some lidocaine onto the surface of the bone.  Then came the fun part.  

She drilled into my hip by hand, sounding like door creaking with each turn.  Her comment that my bone is very dense should be a good thing but it just meant that she had a harder time inserting the tool through my hip bone and into my bone marrow.  "Can you feel that?" she asked.  That's like dragging somebody down the street with a rope tied to the back of your car and asking, "Does it hurt?"  Still, I politely answered, trying to sound tough.  "Just a little."  That was biggest lie I told for months.

Next she had to pull out the core of bone marrow.  This was the part that always hurts the most.  The problem was my bones are dense so she had to flip me on my stomach and stand on top of the bed with her foot on my backside.  With all her might, she pulled and pulled until it finally popped out.  After I regained consciousnes, I lied again and said "That wasn't so bad."

Okay, some of this might be a slight exaggeration but the real news is the bone marrow aspiration happened and I'll have the results in a couple days.