Spring Fever

It’s been exactly five months since I was admitted to Emory University Hospital for my stem cell transplant. The guy I was when I went into the hospital is much different than the guy writing this blog entry. I have a lot more energy, I’m not as unstable on my feet, the hair is coming in and most of the foods I liked before the transplant I still like. I still have the tremors in my left hand, and of course I am left handed, but my Nurse Practitioner says it’s due to the anti-rejection medication. I keep telling myself it’s not forever.

I have troubles with coffee still. It tastes good going down but wreaks havoc with my stomach. I can drink a Diet Coke with no problems, so I don’t think it’s the caffeine I’m reacting to. I also noticed the distress happens more when the beans are dark.

And when I’m out in the sun (totally covered up with sunblock slathered all over me) I feel these weird pinprick sensations all over my body. It’s very strange.

I have lost 60 pounds.

With COVID no longer the killer it was on such a massive scale, most of the entertainment companies are not hiring for production Health and Safety Supervisors and COVID prevention and testing crews. Because of the WGA strike and then the SAG strike, few people are working in production right now. There are a handful of productions, but many people haven’t worked since last April due to the back-to-back strikes. So, if I was going to pick any time to have a huge, life-changing event, my timing was impeccable.

Prior to working in Health and Safety I worked as a production accountant, so there’s a strong chance I can segue back into that. It’s not as fun or dynamic as the Health and Safety stuff, but I’m glad that the threat of widespread COVID illnesses and deaths is so much less. I’m glad there’s no need for on-set COVID crews anymore.

I’m still a few months from going back to work anyway. I’m doing stuff in the daytime but unless I take a siesta I hit a wall in the afternoons. I don’t take nearly as many naps, as I did but sometimes, I pass the bed or the couch and invisible hands draw me to their welcome embrace. I’ll start doing something and the waves of tiredness come on strong.

Over the last two months I went from two checkup appointments at Emory per week to one visit every other week. My lab numbers are showing continuous improvement. The ProGraf (anti-rejection drug) can be difficult on the liver and the kidneys but mine are doing as well as can be expected. I’m part of a study for a more extended usage of abatacept, which is an anti-rejection medication. This has meant eight treatments instead of the normal four. It’s a double-blind study, so I could be getting the placebo. I hope not. I have one more infusion.

I’m aware that thewilworld has been one-note but y’all, I went through something that was insane. I’ll never forget the conversation with Dr. Langston when we determined that I was going to go for it. She told me “This is going to upend your life. It’s going to be the toughest thing you’ll probably ever go through.” No one has spoken truer words. Initially it felt like a full-time job. But it sure is nice not being sick or having some painful red swelling.

Almost everything I do, every decision I make has to get run through a filter of “is this going make me sick or cause some weird infection.” I have nearly 150 days since the transplant, and I’ve had no infections and no rejection so while it’s still front of mind, I’m optimistic.