Day -8

I've been admitted! There was the small possibility of me not going in today following my line insertion if there were any emergencies or people needing a bed more than me, but thankfully that was not the case and I am now in my own little room on the ward simply waiting for my treatment to start.

I would like to thank everyone who sent a message yesterday wishing me all the best, thank you it means a lot to me that there are so many people rooting for me.

My day started with my second ever Hickman line insertion. The surgeon performing the procedure again offered me the sedative, I said that last time I didn't have it and therefore I wasn't bothered about having it this time. She said most people have the sedative, but it's fine if you don't want to...she repeated this about three times before moving on, making me worry that maybe she wasn't overly confident of performing this without causing pain and that maybe I should have the sedative...but it was too late by this point as I'd been a bit too adamant about not having it. And I have to report that, although uncomfortable, it really didn't hurt that much during the procedure, although as she stitched up one of the holes it became quite apparent that the anaesthetic had worn off a bit as I felt her push a stitch through my skin and pull it out again. To which I drew in a large breath and, I admit, uttered the F word. But far from offering more anaesthetic she just said 'sorry mate' and ploughed on! For four further stitches! Each one followed by some expletive from me. So it's in, a bit sore right now, but so much nicer than having a canula on your arm.

According to my schedule today is day -8. Next Wednesday I will get the donor cells, which is Day 0. It was really nice today when Jo said someting along the lines of 'if the cells turn up next Wednesday' to the consultant to which he replied 'what do you mean if? they will turn up'. After all this uncertainty about getting these donor cells it was nice to have such a definite from him. He also, without ruling out any of the nasty things that can happen during transplant, gave us a much more positive run down of side effects. Phrases such as 'but this doesn't happen in the vast majority of cases' and 'this only really happens in 3-4% of transplants' were used rather than 'some patients who have these transplants wish that they'd never had them'; which is the kind of thing they were saying a few months back when far riskier procedures were on the table. We left with the impression that he thinks that I am going to get through this ok, which is something I've not got from him before. Which is great. Plus as he went through the consent forms he ticked a box that has never been ticked for me before, a box which said 'Curative', and he added 'we are aiming to cure this, ok?', oh yes.

Also got a serum free light chain result from the 19th June and it was 39.8, down again from the last test. I am so close to remission, if it was just below 20...still I am going into this in the best possible state, with very low levels of Myeloma cells, and that is what matters.

So up until Sunday I will get 60mg of Fludarabine (chemo) and 10mg of Campath (immuno-suppressant), on Monday I get Melphalan (more chemo: 280mg, so about 2/3 of the dose I got last time) and then on Tuesday I get the immuno-suppressant drug Tacrolimus which I then take daily all in preparation for the cells on Wednesday. All this is to knock out my immune system to stop me immediately rejecting the incoming cells, allowing them to engraft and, hopefully, take over.

Out there somewhere this German lady is finding out that next Tuesday she needs to donate for me to get them on Wednesday. So as soon as I possibly can I will be having a Bratwurst and Riesling party in honour of this great lady. And you're all invited.