In other words: I am pleased to inform everyone that the date is set for my transplant. I am going to have to embrace my new German DNA.
Why all the German? Turns out I have an international donor. My match is from Germany. It makes sense really. I've already got the lederhosen (see pic), an affinity for beer and sausages and an unnatural appreciation for all things David Hasselhoff.
The transplant is tentatively scheduled for April 28th or May 3rd or 4th. The scheduling is a little difficult because of the international donor. The donor cells will be harvested in Germany and sent to Mayo. So timing is very important.
I don't have all the detail yet. In fact the whole thing really caught me by surprise yesterday. A scheduler from Mayo called and started listing off dates and ton of procedures and tests and that was it. No input from me. No prep or time to really comprehend what I was about to be told. Just a sudden call from someone I had never talked to, "Hi Mr. Grann, I am calling with dates and times related to your transplant." So honestly I missed about half of what she rattled off. What I did catch is April 12th (just two weeks) I need to be back in Rochester. I managed to asked how long I needed to be there this time, assuming this was just a few days of tests again. They said that's when everything was going to get started. So it will be the 100 days. This kind of floored me since all guidance I had to this point had afforded me a few more weeks at home. Also consider that I still won't be recovered from this round of chemo by the 12th.
So, after that 3 min conversation, I got off the phone and everything suddenly sit me at once. I had just lost 2-3 weeks of time home with my family (from what guidance I had been given before). All the work and plans everyone had been putting together for helping out at home and the benefit were suddenly not going to work. Jon does not do disappointment well. (My wife and mother are nodding their head in agreement).
Here's a thought for anyone (friends, family, nurses, doctors) that is interacting with someone like myself and a situation like this. Cancer has taken away so much control over my life and decisions at this point. One of the most helpless feelings I imagine me and my chemosabes feel is that we are out of control of the things happening to us. There is so little we actually have a say in or can exercise any control over. Maintaining some control, provides comfort... losing more control, frustration.
Having some say in the timeline related to the transplant seems a reasonable expectation.
I have no doubt in the reputation of Mayo clinic. I have no doubt my care there will be stellar. In fact, from all evidence I see, it is a well oiled machine. To this point however, it has been quite impersonal (huge contrast to Sanford hospital)... Just another body shuffling through the halls.
To make a short story long, then short again... I called Mayo back and requested they push everything back at least week (to the 28th or the first week in May). I get the impression that they had put some effort into building the schedule they had (i.e. scheduler was not impressed). Everything still needs to work backwards off of when the donor can make it work, but we can request some dates and see what happens. All that we had been planning should still work (cross fingers)... I hope to be able to join everyone at the benefit as planned.
der große Tag rückt näher...
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