Hello, my friends. Do I sound like John McCain? Thanks for the patience and persistence in checking my web site. The short story is that I am close to the real work of licking my leukemia. I have had about thirty appointments at the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance in the last two weeks. The good news is that I am very healthy, outside of the pesky leukemia. My sister Janet was out from Montana for three days the week before last and she, too, is in very good heath. So---full speed ahead. Unless something crops up, I will be checking into the U of Washington Hospital on December 1. I will be getting heavy chemo until the transplant on the tenth. Janet will come out for some tests on the 5th and her cells will be harvested of her white blood cells on the eighth and ninth. Fortunately, for her it will be like three hours of giving blood. Her white blood cells will be run through a centrifuge to be collected for me. I will be pretty sick from the chemo initially, and will be waiting after the graft to take hold for the next couple of weeks. Barring too many side effect from Host versus donor disorders, the earliest I could be out is by the thirty-first. I am sure I will meet lots of good people at the U of W Hospital, but feel at sea without my friends at Puget Sound Cancer Care Center and NW Hospital. Then, after the first of the year, the interesting part begins with having a team of primary care givers to be sure I take the possibly 80 pills a day when required and to be ready to jet me to the clinic or emergency room if needed. While I am more experienced with infusing myself with antibiotics and chemo than I would ever have imagined, I cannot be trusted with giving myself IV’s at the right time either. I am trying to not freak out about the $61,000 shortfall between what my insurance will pay and the cost of the transplant. I will enjoy Thanksgiving with Mindi’s family this year possibly more intently since I will be in the hospital for Christmas and probably New Year’s Day. As soon as I know, I will update all of you with my hospital room number—Come On Down!!—and phone number. I ask you for another favor. When thinking of me and sending prayers, please include thoughts about a little girl I met at the clinic, Kajmere—pronounced like the northern state of India. She is about nine and is due for her transplant this week. We agreed that we both like lunch and having a little hair since our initial chemo. I feel I can cope with anything thrown at me, but I sure do hate to see children in the same straits. My love to you all. John
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