Saturday the 4th of July – Radio Day

After a juicy home made cheeseburger, in bermuda shorts, a pink tank top and flip flops, as if heading to the beach, Mar returns to the hospital. On Friday evening, her adventure continues on the same floor but in a different ward. The team leader, Antonella, lists another bunch of house rules. If at all possible, they are even stricter here then in the previous ward. Visitors must now completely trade in their clothes for hospital gear instead. Since this is the very first day, I am let off the hook with “only” a blue cloth over my own and a green one over my hair and shoes. I accompany Mar to her room door and once the nurses check all her vitals, I am allowed in.

Mar’s extremely anxious about Saturday. We keep our conversation light and from time to time I sneak in, not so very subtly, a word of encouragement about TBI Day. In fact, over the last couple of days, I’ve been pep talking her ears off. Always to distract her, I tell her about my next blog entry and my intended opening line: “While millions of Americans celebrate their independence on the 4th of Jul, Mar…” the sentence is immediately finished for me: “Mar gets nuked”. We chuckle. As dark as her humor is on the eve of TBI Day, you may have guessed its morbid meaning. She’s getting Total Body Irradiation also known as Radiotherapy. She is very apprehensive about lying still, naked on her side in a fetal position for over one hour while her body gets “irradiated”. It almost sounds posh, Spa-esk. “Oh yes darling. After my FBM (Full Body Massage), I’m going for some TBI (Total Body Irradiation). It's fabulous." She knows the drill because she already did the simulation in a glass container while an unsympathetic lady doctor snapped instructions at her. Every fiber of her being protests against this treatment. In her opinion, its aim is as useful as a mosquito being destroyed with a bazooka. While pretending to whimper, she really, really, really doesn’t want to do this. All I can do is agree and acknowledge how much this all sucks. It’s ok for her to wallow and it’s ok for her to hate every moment. “Mar, by this time tomorrow it’ll be TBIO(Over) and I’ll TTYL (Talk To You Later)!

After the treatment, she’ll take a “decontaminating” shower. Yet another word that doesn’t sound very promising to Mara. “Big Sistor, think of it as a refreshing, cleansing, detox shower”. Perhaps a little more pleasing to the ear but unconvincing to Mar: “No Paul. It’s definitely decontaminating”. The very same afternoon, she’ll continue with more chemo for 5 days, followed by the stem cell transplant. She will be kept in the hospital for the next 30 days. The typical complications that may arise are nausea, high fever and pulmonary infection. Depending on their severity, family members may be asked to remain with the patient 24/7. In the unlikely event, I already reserved the night shifts.

As for the stem cell transplant, it’s not a very invasive operation since she will receive the cells intravenously. A few days before, my father will be injected with some kind of liquid that will help “harvest” the stem cells in his blood. It will then be drawn from his arms and given to Mar. We should know by the beginning of next month if the transplant was a success.

Let me try one more time: while America celebrates its Freedom on the 4th of Jul, may this Day symbolize the first in Mara’s Freedom from Leukemia. A very special Day indeed.