January 14, Day 13, stem cell collection

Today is stem cell collection day!

Yesterday my mom got the catheter (port/pick line) in her neck. She said it felt like she hurt her neck and couldn't move it real well. I fully expected her to have a restless night's sleep, but she proved me wrong again.

It was a long day yesterday. My parents had to check in at 10 and wait for her scheduled catheter placement at 1, but it was between 2 and 3 when she finally went in. Placement took about an hour and then she had to go back to clinic for her Neupogen shot. All in all it was about 7.5 hours in the hospital/clinic yesterday. That, of course, doesn't include the drive up to and back from SF.

Yesterday I made stew for my family and had plenty to share, for which I was so grateful. I was able to send a pot home with my dad after their long day. I think it was about 7:30 when they finally made it home.

When I am home, working and being a mom, it's hard on me. I'm constantly wondering what is going on with my parents. I wonder how she feels, what she needs, etc. So making sure they had dinner alleviated some of my anxiety, knowing that they had one less thing to worry about.



Today they were off again, extra early, to check in. Unfortunately, the collection area is set up much like an outpatient recover room, so my dad couldn't stay there, but he could come and visit for short periods. Apherisis is only about 3-3.5 hours, so they were done around lunch. Then came the waiting . . . a few hours to determine if they had enough cells.  My mom gave 4.5 MILLION cells today! Unfortunately, it wasn't quite enough and she has to go back and do it again tomorrow. One more day . . .

She had to have a blood transfusion today to help her make the remainder of the stem cell count for tomorrow. She'll have to get the catheter out and then she'll be done for a while. The nurses were so nice--they could tell my dad was exhausted (and he's the one who drives home) so they set up a private room so he could nap.

It's been a very long day and tomorrow will be just as long. I wish I could take away the wait, the worry, the exhaustion . . . But she's almost there.