These beautiful, and thoroughly enjoyable, injections they've been giving me the last three days have nudged them awake and peaked their interest.
Interesting to note that it is the same injections given to cancer patients. Remember how scared the C word makes me? Well, in this case, it doesn't.
Docs think it may be the meds given to me for a virus I had (found in December) that scared off the white blood cells. I've now had two big fat negatives for the virus, so that cute pink pill can possibly be stopped.
Just waiting on the transplant gods from Toronto to give the word. Then we wait and see if that does the trick.
THEN the disco ball drops, the glitter splashes all over the halls, music busts from the speakers, the whole world rejoices and I bust outta this amazing shack-a-lack.
The tonsil that was swollen up larger than planet earth has taken to eating carrots and has slimmed down.
My throat doesn't hurt so much today and the pills didn't scrape like a jigsaw going down. Yay!
The canker - for all you canker fans - is healing. Likely the slowest healing canker in the history of the world, but hey, it makes eating such a pleasure.
In other news, I had a pick up day. I feel much better about things. I know I'm in the best place possible and the docs will always have my back and be saving my life.
Not at all. Life post-transplant - anything can happen. I'm learning that being pro-active about my health doesn't make me a little boy crying wolf, or a complaining freak.
I just want to live. I want to honour my donor. And my donor's family.
I want to use these fantastical chunkers to dance, laugh and make no sense all, over the place.
I want to advocate the hell out CF and organ donation.
Annnnnd I have a certain Canadian Transplant games this July.
Gold medal babeeeee!!!
Thanks to some awesome visitors today. Completely made my day. Lockup is so much better when people come see my glamorous hospitalized self.
I'm sure my hair looked stunning.