First, I am put through a “conditioning regimen” consisting of 5 days of chemotherapy. This is done to prepare the bone marrow for new stem cells. The conditioning regimen counts from negative days towards day zero. So far, we’ve glided through day -6, -5, -4 and -3. Tomorrow, on day -2, I get a particularly nasty chemo called Melphelan, which is prone to giving mouth sores. One way, of many, that this is combated is through preventative red light therapy - see photo - where I pump high wattage red light onto my mouth and neck. Naturally, I queue up Roxanne by The Police and sing 🎶 “Put on the red light!” 🎵 

Day -1 is a rest day and day 0 is my “re-birthday” where the donor’s stem cells are infused into my body. 

Stem cells serve as a factory, so to speak, and are capable of turning into any type of blood cells that the body needs. Right now, my white blood cells aren’t doing their job, so they’re, like, totally fired. As the donors cells make their way into my bone marrow, I will adopt the production of cells inside my body the way they are made inside my donor’s body. This means a new immune system that will (hopefully) destroy cancer cells. Interestingly, and consequently, my blood type will change to match my donors, too.

Because the immune system is temporarily crippled, some of you have asked if I have to remain in complete isolation, soliciting imagery of boy-in-a-bubble or jail visitations through a window. This is not the entirely the case. My loved ones, if healthy, can join me in the room and I can walk around the hallways of the small transplant unit. I’ve been drinking lots of water and taking laps around the transplant floor to stay active. 18 laps is a mile, but I don’t really keep track.

Oh, and per the title, there is actually no shampoo here - only a super special soap that kills bacteria on the skin.

K, that’s all for now, byeeeee!