Imagine the worst sunburn you’ve ever had, multiply it by ten, and add one. That describes the 6-inch wide streak along my spine from the proton therapy. My ears have fared even worse (no jokes from the peanut gallery about my ears sticking out). They’re swollen and sensitive to the touch. My face is only slightly better, but it arguably could be an improvement from the status quo. As a bonus, I have developed an allergic reaction from the burn; it itches something awful and has spread to other unburned parts of my body. On the plus side, I’ve become quite adept at twisting my body into a pretzel to apply Aquaphor to the middle of my back. You never know when that skill will prove useful.
Luckily, my hair fell out, too. I don’t really care except that it makes my head itch and Christi prefers me with hair. Emmy and Abrie don’t really mind. As long as I play with Emmy, she wouldn’t care if I wore a green wig. I try to wear a hat, but it’s often uncomfortable and I stopped caring about what people think a long time ago. I wasn’t expecting this side effect since the doctors told me it probably wouldn’t happen.
There was also this unpleasant smell when the proton “beam” was applied to each side of my brain. It can best be described as burnt bleach water. Holding my breath didn’t help since there was not an actual scent to breathe in. It was all in my mind, so to speak. The radiation doctor told me this is rare and usually only happens with children, so I guess I have the mind of a child. The skin reaction also happens in less than 10% of patients. Sometimes being “exceptional” isn’t a positive thing. I won’t spend any more time discussing my loss of appetite and other unmentionable effects of this therapy. Sometimes I feel like the very things that are being done to save me will end up killing me.
I write about this to give those who care about my family and me an insight into what we’re experiencing. I don’t want pity. Pity is for losers. I’m a winner (not because I’m great, but because He who lives in me is great). Rather than pity, give us your prayers.
The last two and a half weeks in Houston have been a very necessary, albeit difficult, part of my healing. As bad as I feel physically, being away from my family is even worse. It would be different if this was the endgame and I didn’t have to go back, but that isn’t the case. Thankfully, we expect to have a good two weeks together over Christmas.
The next step is the transplant, for which Christi and I will come back in early January. I’ll have another bone marrow biopsy and then begin the required testing before the transplant. We have faith that God is healing me right now and the biopsy results will be good. I am scheduled to be admitted to the hospital in mid-January, with the actual transplantation of stem cells occurring about a week later. I expect to be in the hospital a month, after which we’ll stay in Texas for another three months so that my transplant doctor can closely monitor my progress.
Despite the recent difficulties, we have much to be thankful for (yes, I know you’re not supposed to end a sentence with a preposition, but this is a blog and not a book). When I consider that my family is healthy and safe and that we can be together to celebrate the birth of Jesus, along with the fact that I’m still in remission and progressing toward a cure, there is relatively little to complain about and much reason to offer praise. I choose to dwell on the positives and be thankful. Tender and itching skin are vying for my attention, but right now the predominant vision in my mind is coming down the escalator at the airport and seeing my beautiful girls.
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. (Phil 4:8 NIV)
You are a true inspiration to me with your faith, your attitude, your humor, and your strength and courage! I will continue to keep you in my prayers for your complete recovery. I hope that you can enjoy your time at home with your beautiful family and celebrate the birth of Christ with them.
Thanks, Jeannie.
Ecclesiastes 7:8
8 Better is the end of a thing than its beginning,
and the patient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit..
Praying for you daily. Enjoy this time with your Family.Our Lord and Savior will do the rest.