Day upon day of this wandering gets you down

Today is the tenth anniversary of my Bone Marrow Transplant, where my dear sister had surgery where four massive needles were placed in her hips while I slept off the exhaustion from radiotherapy.

So I've had another person's blood coursing round my body for a decade now, and it's been interesting to say the least. On the plus side it's blood that isn't the poisoned mess that my own blood had become but the trade off has been that it isn't convinced it's in the right body and there's nothing much we've been able to do to convince it otherwise so at various stages over this past decade it has terrorised my insides (and outsides) and made at least one attempt to actually kill me.

So you could say I've got a bit of a troubled relationship with my blood. I need it, but as with quite a few relationships I've had, it doesn't really care for me. So onwards we plod in our own little twisted relationship in the hope that things will just work themselves out. Unlike real life though this isn't quite as vain a hope as it sounds because there are actually occasional signs that it has finally got used to me and isn't bothered with attacking me anymore. That might just be down to the fact that I've been taking immunosuppressive drugs constantly for the last few years but if that's the case then it will probably just mean that I'll have to resign myself to taking them forever. I had kind of reached acceptance of that already as if I get a lung transplant I'll need to take them anyway so it doesn't bother me.

What it means though is that when I do eventually get a new set of lungs they should last a while - hopefully longer than it took for this pair to be destroyed.

On that front I get to meet the transplant team on the 25th of February. I can't wait for it although I need to put the weight back on that I've lost over the last week or so.