With stem cell transplants, there’s an indefinite waiting game because everything, and I mean everything, gets wiped out.
Jackson felt terrible.
We realized around this time that Jackson had another drug that didn’t agree with him: Morphine. We switched to Fentanyl, which helped, but not before he had about 20 little scabs all over his bald head from his intense reaction, and his eyes were bruised from rubbing them so much.
I switched my coffee order, on recommendation of the coffee guy downstairs, to white chocolate mocha and I taken to singing to Jackson’s stem cells…One little, two little, three little white cells…in hopes of the transplant beginning to take.
After a good week and a half of feeling really awful – and sleeping probably five days straight – Jackson slowly started getting feisty and irritable, which always meant he was starting to heal.
Our fabulous resident at the time came and woke me at 5:00 a.m. the morning Jackson’s immune system showed up on his morning labs. It was Day +9. I sat straight up in my pull out chair! I texted my whole family and woke them up too.
Time really doesn’t exist when you live in the hospital – and what better news to wait up to?
In this photo, my mom was there for a visit and Jackson was eating the first thing he’d eaten since before transplant. He wanted chocolate ice cream, with TWO SPOONS.
It got all over the place…especially when he decided to feed it to the duck…but who cared? My mom offered to take the duck home to wash him, but I said no. To this day, that duck still has brown chocolate stains all over it’s bill and I just love it.