So I got the phone call today. I have to go back to Glasgow for 10.20 on Thursday morning (although I am not able to stay in Glasgow due to Covid) to get my top up cells or donor lymphocyte infusion (DLI). The idea being that this should help prevent a relapse which is something that I actually think would break me at this point. While a DLI is not a cure-all and can cause problems of its own it is the best option available to me right now.
What amazes me about this whole process is that some stranger not only saved my life when he donated the first time, but he has repeated the process, and I know it was not easy for him this time around. I may not know his name or anything about him but I know that they only managed to get a small amount of cells from him because he was unwell. He was unwell and still donated. There are truly some saints who walk amongst us.
So maybe this is it. Maybe Thursday is the end to this nightmare? Maybe I can start to breathe again? Although I don’t know if that will ever truly be possible, when every few months they have to stick needles in my hips and spine and then I have to hold my breath until the results come in. I guess all I can do is hand it all over to God and see where we go from here. At least if nothing else this journey called life is not boring. I sometimes just wish mine had less needles and doctors in it (and maybe more calorie free chocolate and kisses ;o)