This Machine Killed Cancer

Rebekah here.

It’s day +3 of Shayne’s bone marrow transplant, which has so far been eventful and really boring at the same time. He spends most of the morning throwing up (sorry to be so blunt) until he gets IV Ativan and then spends the rest of the morning sleeping, which he is thankfully doing right now. Every once in a while he gets up, eats, and then promptly gets sick again. Then they give him more Ativan and he’s back to sleep - rinse, repeat.

Since he’s been sleeping most of today, I’ve been able to have a fairly productive day - getting a couple of medical/paperwork issues squared away, cleaning up the room, doing laundry and finally catching up on some work.

Shayne’s team of oncologists had a conference to discuss the next steps of his treatment, which meant we thought we’d get to talk to them as well. This, of course, didn’t happen, but we’ve gotten used to not actually being a part of major medical decisions made on Shayne’s behalf and I was too tired to raise a fuss.

Ever since one of his oncologists mentioned that they might want him to get a second transplant, we’ve been perseverating on the possibility of having to continue this hospital life for another two years. On a good day, it seems possible. On days like today, when Shayne feels this awful, I can’t imagine it.

It’s a moot point to think about it either way, though, because we won’t know a definite answer for weeks. Right now, all of the focus should be on Shayne getting through THIS transplant. First things first.

Thanks for all of the phone calls, e-mails, texts, offers to help, dinner, etc. This last week has been surreal, but your support keeps us grounded.