I got home from Hospital last Monday after the longest Four weeks of my life – by Fuck, what an ordeal that was. The first couple of days were fine, then I got the stem cell replacement on the Thursday and Friday. The girl who brought the stem cells in was a beautiful Maria Sharapova sound alike from Poland whose name eludes me. She was talking about her Dog who was ‘turning into man – making love to my bed. ‘ I might have to cut off his Balls’. The stem cells themselves are in bags that go through a drip into your body and they’re brought in a vat of that stuff Walt Disney got frozen in. I got Four bags of the stem cells one day and Three more of the thin, watery Tomato soup the next day. The day after that was the ‘Pearl Harbour’ chemo where I had to fill my mouth with Ice cubes for the Half Hour that I got the chemo. The next week was my ‘Shackleton endurance week’. This was the week when my immune system reverted back to when I was a days old baby. It was F–k— awfy . It seemed to be a Morphine induced world of Hallucinations and pain or discomfort somewhere in my body. Ah didny eat, couldny face the food, so they fed me nutrients on another drip for a few days. Diarrhoea every day exploding oot ma arse like a Billy Cobham drum solo – wiping ma bum after a Billy Cobham drum solo was particularly painful. The Pearl Harbour chemo destroys or affects so much that you’ve got nothing to fight anything apart from your will to live. Your dietary tract is the first to go so that eating, swallowing and passing food is a proper pain in the arse. As if all that wasny enough to get on your wick I came out in this awfy looking skin rash. From my head to my toes I was purple, like an Aubergine or a Blueberry. It’s almost all away now but my skin is so dry now that when I scratch it falls off like powdery snow. Still, every day I was in Hospital ,I always looked upon it as another day that I was getting better – and here I am, a year after a Heart attack and a week after being in hospital for a Month for a life saving procedure. It’s good to be alive.
THE STEM CELL DIARIES
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As the delegated spokesperson for the Boabby Thomson Literary Appreciation Society, ( Pumpherston branch) may I congratulate you on the most welcome return of your blog. I would opine that this is a more fitting medium for your articulate musings, where they can be appreciated by Pumpherston’s literati, unlike your previous (hopefully short) incursion into the murky depths of “Pussbook” which, I feel sure you will agree, is frequented by people with even less literary talent than Jeffry Archer. P.S. New members are always welcome at the B.T.L.A.Soc. Current membership is 2. Myself (Maigrit Thomson) and Boabby Thomson (no relation.) P.P.S Meetings are generally held in “oor kitchen.”