My Treatment Decision

I mentioned in my last blog post that I had been moved from not being a stem cell candidate to getting the green light by my oncologist, cardiologist, and renal doctor to go ahead. In addition to remaining in remission, my troponin level, a marker of heart function, moved to a safe range. Also, a second bone marrow biopsy showed no amyloid deposits. This is all good new news.

A stem cell transplant does not guarantee your life will be extended, but the odds are likely it will. The alternative is chemo, and in my case I was told this would likely give me another year, maybe longer. The third option is to do nothing, and I’d likely have months.   

If choosing to do a stem cell transplant, the next question is when. Last week I started the harvest process in which I received a series of injections over four days to stimulate the production of stem cells. On Monday, I spent a big part of the day at Good Samaritan Hospital lying flat on a hospital bed with both arms hooked up to machines. One machine drained blood out of me where the stem cells were harvested, counted, and then frozen. The other machine returned my blood back to me through my other arm. I was told I couldn’t move during the six-hour process. Really thankful to have Audible, podcasts, and Ativan available to me- made this more tolerable.   

Some members of my Amyloidosis group completed this phase but have yet to have the stem cells transplanted back to themselves. Their thinking is as long as they are in remission, why put themselves through what has the reputation for being a grueling ordeal. I wish I were more confident in my health trajectory, but I’m not. After all, just four months ago I needed a wheel chair and walker to get around. 

So, unless something changes my mind, I’ve decided to go for it.

On July 9, I will return to Good Samaritan where I will be a “guest” in a private room for three to four weeks. I will be given high dose chemo that will lower my immune system to zero so that my body will not reject the stem cells that will be returned to me via a temporary port in my chest. I’ll only be released from the hospital when my immune systems shows signs of recovery. But, full recovery could take upwards of a year to even a year and a half. I’ll have to watch my public contact during this time. Exposure to someone with a cold could result in pneumonia for me.

Here’s how you can pray for me:

• That the transplant will be successful.
• That the chemo will not further damage my organs
• That there will not be complications because of my suppressed immune system. I will be on antibiotics for this time. I especially want to avoid C-diff.

Last week I read this verse, and it’s really stuck with me:

For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope. Romans 15:4

Three words: endurance, encouragement, and hope. I know Paul is applying this to getting along with others in the church. Some of the most difficult people we know we see each Sunday and they can really drive us crazy. But I think for all of us, whatever difficulties we are facing, the Scriptures teach us that endurance is accompanied by encouragement and hope. After all, they bring us Jesus, our Good Shephard, Lord, and Savior. 

Thank you for reading and praying,

Curt