I just received an email from a fellow MCL’er this evening, who is being prepped for a Stem Cell Transplant (SCT). He didn’t mention what type of SCT, i.e. autologous, non-myeloablative (mini-allo) or myeloablative (full-allo), but I am guessing he is going for the non-myeloablative, since he is 70 years old. The other two require very high dose chemotherapy, which is difficult for even the youngest and fittest individuals among us to endure.
While I never enjoy hearing about the troubles others are having, I certainly appreciate it when someone writes to me commenting on my blog, and telling me what a “great” attitude I have. (Oh, if only the latter were true more of the time.)
Sometimes it just takes a jolt from some fan (so to speak), or a poster to one of the several lymphoma/leukemia message boards, which I hesitate to visit so frequently anymore, talking about their problems, to make me realize just how lucky I am.
But why does it take an email from someone, in worse condition than me, to make me realize just how good I do have it?
Apprarently we’re not hard wired to think along those terms. We don’t get up out of bed thinking how great it is to be alive.
This morning I woke pissed because the dog woke me (he was barking at a stranger)on my day off. What nerve!
I went to see Jim yesterday who had two lobes removed from his lung and he is having a hard time breathing. And I left amazed with breathing of all things!
You never miss the water ’til the well runs dry.
Maybe we should all read Walt Whitman.
I went to see Jim today and he is having surgery again today at four. I guess they put some temporary bars in his that they are going to now remove. I brought him a Christmaz Kazoo so he can practice his breathign techniques.
Don’t forget I won’t be in until Wednesday.