T-3

So, three days until the transplant.  Right now my stomach is killing me from the chemo.  I’m only halfway through that, and the effects will be felt for much longer.  I am so bored in this hospital room during the day.  Everyone is working or whatever and there is nothing to do. For some of my friends who are under the illusion that once I get the transplant, everything becomes hunky-dory, I would just like to clarify that is not the case,  The transplant means that I MIGHT get the chance to survive longer term.  This is IF the new cells engraft with no real complications and from about a year afterward I continue to avoid some infection as my immune system will be weak for at least that long.  The odds of that aren’t great, but I’m doing my best to think positively.  However, it has kind of pissed me off lately the way people seem to think this struggle is about to end or is anything less than life or death for me, so I thought I’d clarify.  

I miss being able to go out in public.  Life in a hospital room is not much of a life.  It is only for the hope of better things to come that I bother fighting through this sickness and pain.  That and I owe it to the people who have been by my side in all of this.   Especially Hannah, she has sacrificed so much to be with me through this, and I really doubt I’d be sane were it not for her.  If everyone could be like her, this world would be so much better of a place.  

I know I probably sound pretty negative and bitter right now, and I’m sorry for that, but this is not some illness I can simply manage.  I don’t want to die.  So my choices are to fight as hard as I can or let go and die.  I’m tired,  Not giving up, just letting certain people know that when they act like this is nothing around me, it doesn’t help, it makes me feel worse.  I bet they wouldn’t say some of the things they have in my position.  I get people want to see me remain strong, and I’m trying, but I think being allowed to show a little weakness in the face of this should be allowed.  Are you currently thinking about how it would hit your loved ones if you didn’t wake up tomorrow?  Are you wondering if you should give a family member your Facebook password so they can contact your friends to let you know the worst?  I think about these things daily.  

I’m going to make it  Three days until transplant, one year after that to become normal-ish again.  I have no choice.  Bu don’t you dare, ever think that because this MAY cure me if all goes well, that I have it easy.  Don’t ever think that I’m not allowed to freak out as everything I eat ends up coming out as blood or feeling like it needs to be thrown up.  

Thank you to everyone of you I didn’t need to say that too.  I love you all.

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