Trying to Keep Perspective: Day 100

Perspective can change in an instant and put you on your knees faster than you can say the very word itself. I have had this gut wrenching, tear jerking experience happen to me on more than one occasion for good and bad.

The first and most obvious one is the original diagnosis. I overheard the word leukemia spoke from the other side of my mom's phone followed by the cry of a mother whose heart had sank as deep as mine. Automatically my perspective on life was changed. I might die I thought, but the doctors soon put that thought to bed as I am soon informed that this is a disease with a 90% cure rate. Let's kill this thing with some chemo, that was my new point of view. This thought brought some comfort and my mind was in a good spot for a couple weeks. But of course nothing is written in stone and perspective can change again.

My dad walked in with a look on his face that I had never seen him wear before. My heart sank. I knew exactly what he was going to say. He then said what I expected:

"The test regarding your chromosomes in the leukemia cells is abnormal. This means you are going to need a bone marrow transplant."

How. I was just getting a hold of the fact I had to do chemotherapy, now I have a 30% chance of life unless I get this life saving procedure. After a hard couple days I did what I thought any great fighter would do and chose to do just that; fight and get a life saving bone marrow transplant. As time and chemotherapy continued on, B.M.T. crept closer. At this point, I am just ready find a donor and get it done.... and then in September it happened. We found a donor and a date was set for October. Let's do this.

It is hard to be anything but joyful the day you receive the transplant and joyful I was. The following weeks however, your perspective and almost everything else changes. To keep it brief, your hair falls out, your lips scab up, the inside of your mouth has more sores and dead skin than you could picture (or at least in my case), and I am sure you can imagine what happens to the G.I. track. The joy is still there just blanketed by the constant nausea and pain fro all the symptoms of chemo and radiation. But like before, there is only one thing you can do and that is fight on and keep a positive perspective. I did just that and made it out of the hospital in 46 days.

Surprisingly, the hardest period of time to keep a positive perspective in the last seven months has been the time home with no chemotherapy, and so far no hospitalisations. For me, dealing with the immuno-suppressive drugs and isolation since B.M.T. have been a real battle. It is a challenge to watch the world progress and yours just pause when you feel good enough to proceed. That is why it is important to count every single blessing on this whole journey and fight my fight.