It is now exactly 12 months almost to the minute since I watched the bag of stem cells slowly drain into the Hickman line. It's been a very eventful 12 months to say the least. Since my last post 9 months ago I had a difficult end to 2019. I was hospitalised for pneumonia in October which turned out to be a fungal infection. I was given powerful broad spectrum antibiotics before the correct diagnosis was made after a bronchoscopy. A particularly unpleasant procedure during which I felt as if I was drowning. I was discharged after 10 days. A week or so later I started vomiting and had diarrhoea. C. difficile was diagnosed and after a week of Vancomycin at home I went back into hospital feeling very unwell, a bit scared and rather desperate. I wasn't able to eat and was losing weight and becoming increasingly weak. After nearly 2 weeks of this and, at times, thinking that it would be a blessing to not wake up, I had a sigmoidoscopy and GVHD of the bowel was diagnosed. The C.difficle had gone and I was put on to steroids. The result was an overnight end to nearly 4 weeks of diarrhoea. By now I was very weak and had lost nearly 2 stone. I was discharged again and began to recover. Long story short I was subsequently in and out of hospital with chest infection, severe oedema and was still very poorly, although I managed to be home for Christmas. New years eve in hospital was a rather bleak moment. I was last discharged on 7th January. By then I had been diagnosed with heart failure which was a blow, but I was home and began my recovery.
6 months on and I am feeling really very well. No transfusions since last year. No more cyclosporin and the consultants at QE Bham are pleased with my progress. All my blood counts except for platelets are near normal. I am able to go through the day without afternoon sleeps, my weight is a few pounds off 'normal' and I can even enjoy a glass of wine once more. I do not know where I am with the heart failure as the Covid crisis has meant I can't go to hospital for tests but the medication seems to be working well.
I am so thankful for where I am now and have (cautious) hope and optimism. I went through the mill, but I came out the other side, and life is good. When I think back to how I was in the months before transplant, with splenomegaly, night sweats, weekly transfusions, fatigue and a growing sense of despair I am now in good place. I feel as if I have my life back. I am so lucky. The NHS and its people are simply wonderful and I can never thank them enough no matter what happens from here on in.