This is life

I just woke up and it is a grey, wet day down here next to the lake. I spent the whole day yesterday in the hospital hooked up to the apheresis machine and watched blood stream out of my left arm, through a complicated network of tubes and pumps and back into my right arm. As the pumps turned and clicked, my stem cells were being separated out by a centrifuge that hummed deep in the heart of the machine. The side effects of the Neupogen finally made themselves apparent. All my joints ached, especially my hips. I had a nasty headache and I was dizzy enough to walk into at least one wall. After six hours of trying to read a novel one-handed, trying to catch a nap and some idle chatting, I watched as the nurse and technicians carefully disconnected a plastic bag from the machine about half full of what looked like Campbell's cream of tomato soup and write some numbers on the label. The nurse placed it on the tray table in front of me, gently patted it and said to me in her beautiful Ukraine accent, " This is life."

For the first time since this journey began I really felt proud of what I had done. Until now I had tried to politely accept everyone's praise and hide my embarrasment because I hadn't really done anything, yet. But it is over now for me and that bag full of life is hanging over a machine in some other hospital transfusion center. That machine has a complicated network of tubes with another man's arms connected to them and my stem cells are making the journey to their new home. I can only hope that they work as hard in his body as they did in mine.

Go to work guys...I'm taking a nap.