Transplant

5 minutes before transplant and the anticipation is building. By all accounts this is a huge moment. Without the transplant, which is basically an infusion in this case since the cells are her own, she's defenseless. She won't survive. That part is so surreal. She's doing "very well" considering what she has been through the past 7 days so I can't imagine anything but a successful outcome.

She's sleeping. Good for her. In a few moments a team of doctors, nurses, technicians, and who knows will be in here, and she'll sleep through it all, hopefully. We just gave her some Tylenol and Benadryl to help her cope with some of the side effects so she should sleep through it.

The transplant (transfusion) should only take 15 minutes. I've read that some people consider this a rebirth and treat it like a birthday. Here they come... more later

11:34 AM and were done, just like that.

So the cells arrive in what looks like a five gallon milk container. You know one of those containers that are narrower around the top that milk is collected in. Anyway they take the top off and cool air (must have dry ice in there or something) comes pouring out. The technician puts on an insulating glove and reaches in and pulls out a pouch with her stem cells. It's a tiny thing for the size of the container. She thaws it out in a small heating tray atop of the cart that is carrying the milk bucket and after it's ready hands it to nurse Stephanie, who hangs it on the IV poll and starts the infusion. Just as we read about, the smell of cream corn fills the room. Apparently the preservative that is used in preserving the stem cells is the cause of the smell.

Lisa starts to stir awake as the cool cells are introduced to her body. I think the smell and taste almost make her gag but she manages to settle down and relax. The team of doctors and nurses comment that this is the best infusion they've seen. I wonder what normally happens. This is pretty much what I expected but they seem very pleased that she took it so well. Great!

The doctors have cautioned that she will get "worse" before getting better and that the most difficult days are coming as her blood counts continue to drop and she becomes more susceptible to everything. Keep her in your prayers. We'll keep her isolated, warm, and comfortable.

She's sleeping again. [I silently implore the stem cells] Get to work cells, take hold and heal her. Thank you all for checking in and continuing to pray and send positive energy. We'll update again soon.