Neutropenia, I am in you.

Neutropenia: An abnormally low count of a type of white blood cell (neutrophils).

Or > 1.0

It's not that this was unexpected, in fact it was absolutely expected, but it now means my body generally has no defense against infection currently.

That's a scary/crazy thought.

It also means I feel a lot like hot garbage now, pretty constantly.

My nurses and docs are fighting to find the right cocktail of meds to make me comfortable, and for that I love them--it just isn't working yet. 

So the puke party has officially began. It's an all day party. It's not much fun.

I wouldn't come if I were you. 

It's not a real party anyway. It's just me making strange noises and throwing

up. A lot. All the time. 

K you get the point.

Also means I get to be super cool and wear this around now too:

Call me McSteamypukes.

In general, I'm going with the flow. Doing what I'm told. 

I find myself more and more in awe of just what's happening (also more and more scared of it.) The science involved here--the process of erasing someone's immune system and replacing it with another, is incredible. It isn't fun but I'm in good hands.

Hands that will keep me safe, even if things take an unexpected turn for the worse. 

Hands that, until things take that turn, will keep handing me lots of towels and pieces of gum after puking. 

Onward.

Lastly, at a delirious puking moment, I found myself reciting the Invictus poem, which I know I've posted here before. Maybe it's a bit dramatic and doesn't apply to my situation well, but I recommend remembering it and reciting it any time you're having a rough go. It makes me feel like an animal.

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit From pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.