2 years

Well it’s been 2 years now since my stem cell transplant gave me another chance at life.

Thinking back, the transplant (or transfusion really, I suppose) was not a pleasant experience.  Taken to the very edge of death, weeks of being unwell, worried about getting even a minor infection, a daily diet of pills and potions, and spending around 20 out of 24 hours asleep were not great experiences.  But I’m still here.  “Still breathing” as I say to anyone who asks how I am.

I still put up with permanent pain in my back and other bones which hampers my mobility, robs me of my energy, stops me from sleeping most nights at best, and causes intensely unpleasant, restless, fever filled nights (like the one I had last night actually) at worst.  But I’m still here.  Still breathing.

Would I go through it all again?  The answer is a resounding NO.  Seriously, I wouldn’t.

That’s not to put off anyone reading this who may be facing up to a transplant.  It saves lives.  It saved mine.  And your experience may be wholly different to mine.  I had other complications atop my myeloma which contributed to how I recovered: problems with blood clotting, the nature of the break caused to my back and the surrounding tissue by the cancer and subsequent surgery, and an underlying heart problem.  Also, I had to stop chemotherapy treatment early due to the blood clot on my lung, so my starting point for the transplant was not at its optimum best.

Reading this, you might think me ungrateful in some way.  Well I’m not.  I’m extremely grateful for the extra chance I’ve been given.  But I’m entitled to a moan every now and then and I guess the second anniversary of my transplant has brought back a lot of bad memories.

But I’m still breathing.