In a format similar to calculating a space launch, the BMT (bone marrow transplant) unit labels the transplant day as zero, then counts forwards and backwards.
Hospital admission is D-7 (which was Thursday, 23 May) which means today, as Saturday, is D-5. There is a strict schedule of which chemo gets started when and for how long. All of them run, it seems over hours and hours. Nothing, other than a few pre-medications, is just over and done.
George looks good and is in a good mood. If he hadn’t brought a pile of books plus have his iPad for the news and the TV I think he would be bored out of his mind. Although he hasn’t been as physically active for the last several months as before, he just normally doesn’t hang out in bed. The living room lounger? The couch in the guest room? His desk, the table? All of those, but world not limited to the same four wall plus I.V. pole which follows him everyone, leashed to him like a puppy.
I may name it.
The third lovely poison of the chemos starts at 0200 on D-4.
My break every day is the one hour over and back to the Coliseum for the As home stand which just started. They managed to pull off a win on Friday night and again this afternoon, both against the Mariners. I won’t say that the pitchers didn’t attempt to divest of the win, but it was a lot closer than all of us would have liked.
