Bone Marrow Business, the final stage, harvest day.
07 July 2009, 03:16 AM
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Bone Marrow Business, the final stage, harvest day.
After four days of injections to stimulate my stem cells into my bloodstream, I was ready for harvest day. Not before time too, the side effects were beginning to **** me off. I could cope with the pain and discomfort, you take enough paracetamol and anything will go away, but the sleeplessness was beginning to take its toll. Quite frankly, I had had enough and wanted it to be over.
I was about to get my wish. Eventually, sometime after 2.30am on monday morning, I dropped off, only to be woken at 6am by my alarm. I had a big day ahead of me and I needed to be ready. The Anthony Nolan trust had kindly put me up in a hotel near to the hospital, just as well, seeing as I had to be there at 0830, there was no way I was going to mess around with the tube, in rush hour, in july, in my state. But that didnt matter, I had more important things to attend to, breakfast.
I was in for a trying day, not least because I would be unable to move for 6 hours or more, I was determined to make sure I had the least amount of hassles as possible, including not going hungry. A trip to the hotel restaurant sorted that out.
The fruit was a tactical thing. it ensured I needed to tip the skip right after breakfast. I could cope with going for a pee in a bottle, but bollocks to anything else! Fortunately, my body concurred and after finishing up, I made my way to Haematology.
I was the first to turn up and David took me through the procedure. He also introduced me to something I would be very closely aquainted to in a very small amount of time.
There are 8 harvesting machines in the unit, this is Dec. Rather predictably, Ant was next door. Further down, there was Posh, Baby, Scary, Sporty, Ginger and on the end, the latest edition, Beckham. Resisting the temptation to ask if I can go on "Scary", David hands me a sheet of paper.
Its asking me if I have done anything (or anyone
) since my medical which would endanger the recipient. I am too careful for that and each of my responses are in the negative. It was the final hurdle. After I respond, David gets the needles out.
Firstly, my right hand:
In here goes the return line. The blood that has passed through the centrifuge and has been harvested of stem cells will be returned to me here. While he is doing this, he takes a blood sample which is sent away for analysis. When it comes back, it returns with my stem cell count. For most people, it is around 5%, mine is currently running at 42%. David then gets to work on my left arm.
The white dot is an injection of local anesthetic, good job too, as the metal needle he puts in me is about the width of a drinking straw 8O
This is the outgoing line. Here my blood is mixed with saline and an anticoagulant to keep it from clotting. With that done, David starts the machine and after a few problems with getting the needle in my arm to draw blood at the right pressure, the process begins.
When it does, I assume the position:
Looks comfortable, but let me assure you, even the most comfortable beds gets very uncomfortable when you cant move for 6 hours. My left arm has to be kept perfectly still throughout the process, fortunately I am right handed, but its only when you cant move that you realise how difficult it is to do so. Fortunately, the staff nurses have thought of this and have provided entrtainment.
There is an extensive DVD library to pass the time and Iget stuck in. Star Trek First Contact gets an airing first, However, after a few hours, I have a more pressing need.
My lips and fingers start tingling. I was warned this might happen, the anticoagulant binds to the calcium in my body, if this gets too enthuiastic, I get a calcium deficency and need a top up. Fortunately the nurse is one step ahead of me
A couple of chewable calcium tablets sort my out and the tingling sibsides. I get back to the films and Dec gets busy.
As Dec Chugs away, the bag collecting the stem cells gets fatter. This is at 1030
this is at 2.30
Eventually, at about ten past three, after three bags of anticoagulant, one pee bottle and a couple of mcdonalds cheeseburgers, the nurse comes over and switches off the machine. She takes a heat gun and cuts through the line to the stem cell bag, sealing it as she does so. Totally without ceremony, she plonks it on a tray on the table at the foot of the bed. Here are the results of my labour.
My return line is removed, then the outgoing line. After near on six hours of keeping it still, my left arm has seized solid and is very sore, but thats nothing compared to whats happened to my hand.
I am told the swelling will go down, but I have more pressing needs. I swing my legs off the bed and sit up.
Gently I stand up, making sure I dont keel over. When I am sure I am okay, I make a beeline for the toilet and take the biggest and most beautiful **** I have ever taken
I am sent away for half an hour while my stem cells are analyised. The volume of liquid is the same for every donor, but its the amount of stem cells that counts. If there isnt enough I will have to come back tomorrow and finish the job. Coming back after a breath of fresh air and a walk around the block I am informed that the recipient requires 5.5 million stem cells. The contents of my bag is over 9 million
It is over. Well almost, The canular in my return line is used one last time before it is removed to take one more blood sample.
This is then bagged up and taken to be analyised to see if I am okay to be released.
While it comes back my blood oxygen, pressure and heartrate is taken, all are normal, as is my blood test results which arrive a few minutes after. The only other interesting thing is my stem cell count in my blood. Despite donating over 9 million, it has only dropped to 32% of my blood content. I jokingly ask if they want anymore before shaking the staff's hands, thanking them for looking after me and leaving.
After that, it was a case of wobbling back to the hotel, packing my stuff and getting onboard the taxi which the anthony nolan trust had laid on to take me home. I dont remember much of the journey, but I do remember the huge pizza I ordered and demolished when I arrived home. Quite frankly, I deserved it.
Now the only thing to do is recover from this whole thing, something which I intend to do in private. I wrote these things partly to show off (hey, at least i'm honest), but partly to deal with the fear associated with donating. But I guess I got lucky. I got chosen to save a life, I came up with the goods and my spleen didnt explode. Hopefully my recipent will get in touch, but I wont hold it against them if they dont. If nothing else this experience has made me appreciate my health and the happiness it brings. I know I've done my bit, now I can rest.
Take care,
astraboy.
I was about to get my wish. Eventually, sometime after 2.30am on monday morning, I dropped off, only to be woken at 6am by my alarm. I had a big day ahead of me and I needed to be ready. The Anthony Nolan trust had kindly put me up in a hotel near to the hospital, just as well, seeing as I had to be there at 0830, there was no way I was going to mess around with the tube, in rush hour, in july, in my state. But that didnt matter, I had more important things to attend to, breakfast.
I was in for a trying day, not least because I would be unable to move for 6 hours or more, I was determined to make sure I had the least amount of hassles as possible, including not going hungry. A trip to the hotel restaurant sorted that out.
The fruit was a tactical thing. it ensured I needed to tip the skip right after breakfast. I could cope with going for a pee in a bottle, but bollocks to anything else! Fortunately, my body concurred and after finishing up, I made my way to Haematology.
I was the first to turn up and David took me through the procedure. He also introduced me to something I would be very closely aquainted to in a very small amount of time.
There are 8 harvesting machines in the unit, this is Dec. Rather predictably, Ant was next door. Further down, there was Posh, Baby, Scary, Sporty, Ginger and on the end, the latest edition, Beckham. Resisting the temptation to ask if I can go on "Scary", David hands me a sheet of paper.
Its asking me if I have done anything (or anyone
) since my medical which would endanger the recipient. I am too careful for that and each of my responses are in the negative. It was the final hurdle. After I respond, David gets the needles out.Firstly, my right hand:
In here goes the return line. The blood that has passed through the centrifuge and has been harvested of stem cells will be returned to me here. While he is doing this, he takes a blood sample which is sent away for analysis. When it comes back, it returns with my stem cell count. For most people, it is around 5%, mine is currently running at 42%. David then gets to work on my left arm.
The white dot is an injection of local anesthetic, good job too, as the metal needle he puts in me is about the width of a drinking straw 8O
This is the outgoing line. Here my blood is mixed with saline and an anticoagulant to keep it from clotting. With that done, David starts the machine and after a few problems with getting the needle in my arm to draw blood at the right pressure, the process begins.
When it does, I assume the position:
Looks comfortable, but let me assure you, even the most comfortable beds gets very uncomfortable when you cant move for 6 hours. My left arm has to be kept perfectly still throughout the process, fortunately I am right handed, but its only when you cant move that you realise how difficult it is to do so. Fortunately, the staff nurses have thought of this and have provided entrtainment.
There is an extensive DVD library to pass the time and Iget stuck in. Star Trek First Contact gets an airing first, However, after a few hours, I have a more pressing need.
My lips and fingers start tingling. I was warned this might happen, the anticoagulant binds to the calcium in my body, if this gets too enthuiastic, I get a calcium deficency and need a top up. Fortunately the nurse is one step ahead of me
A couple of chewable calcium tablets sort my out and the tingling sibsides. I get back to the films and Dec gets busy.
As Dec Chugs away, the bag collecting the stem cells gets fatter. This is at 1030
this is at 2.30
Eventually, at about ten past three, after three bags of anticoagulant, one pee bottle and a couple of mcdonalds cheeseburgers, the nurse comes over and switches off the machine. She takes a heat gun and cuts through the line to the stem cell bag, sealing it as she does so. Totally without ceremony, she plonks it on a tray on the table at the foot of the bed. Here are the results of my labour.
My return line is removed, then the outgoing line. After near on six hours of keeping it still, my left arm has seized solid and is very sore, but thats nothing compared to whats happened to my hand.
I am told the swelling will go down, but I have more pressing needs. I swing my legs off the bed and sit up.
Gently I stand up, making sure I dont keel over. When I am sure I am okay, I make a beeline for the toilet and take the biggest and most beautiful **** I have ever taken
I am sent away for half an hour while my stem cells are analyised. The volume of liquid is the same for every donor, but its the amount of stem cells that counts. If there isnt enough I will have to come back tomorrow and finish the job. Coming back after a breath of fresh air and a walk around the block I am informed that the recipient requires 5.5 million stem cells. The contents of my bag is over 9 million
It is over. Well almost, The canular in my return line is used one last time before it is removed to take one more blood sample.
This is then bagged up and taken to be analyised to see if I am okay to be released.
While it comes back my blood oxygen, pressure and heartrate is taken, all are normal, as is my blood test results which arrive a few minutes after. The only other interesting thing is my stem cell count in my blood. Despite donating over 9 million, it has only dropped to 32% of my blood content. I jokingly ask if they want anymore before shaking the staff's hands, thanking them for looking after me and leaving.
After that, it was a case of wobbling back to the hotel, packing my stuff and getting onboard the taxi which the anthony nolan trust had laid on to take me home. I dont remember much of the journey, but I do remember the huge pizza I ordered and demolished when I arrived home. Quite frankly, I deserved it.
Now the only thing to do is recover from this whole thing, something which I intend to do in private. I wrote these things partly to show off (hey, at least i'm honest), but partly to deal with the fear associated with donating. But I guess I got lucky. I got chosen to save a life, I came up with the goods and my spleen didnt explode. Hopefully my recipent will get in touch, but I wont hold it against them if they dont. If nothing else this experience has made me appreciate my health and the happiness it brings. I know I've done my bit, now I can rest.
Take care,
astraboy.
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07 July 2009, 12:18 PM
#10
AB, you are a star, potentially any one of us could be in that situation and be reliant on someone like you, also, even more scarily it could be our kids that need the marrow, I can only begin to imagine the gratitude I would feel towards someone who donated and it was for one of my lads.
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