A Free Man – Again

I have been on a new antibiotic – Vancomycin – for 2 days now, and my front rash has gone away.  It was never as severe as my back rash, which is still healing and has residual patches.  But it certainly appears that I am dealing with the new medicine well, and the plan is for me to be released Tuesday mid-afternoon.  Here is the medical team that came to that conclusion:

From left, Fellow Anish Sharda, Attending Physician Vicki Boussiotis, Intern Sarah Lieber, and Nurse Bridget S.  Sarah has been quite diligent in arranging for me to get my medicine at home.

I actually got out at 3:45 and had a nice night at Brian & Bridget’s.  The devices for delivering the Vancomycin were delivered at 8:15, and a visiting nurse helped me connect last night’s dose to my PICC line.  The current mechanism is much easier than the pump, and we had no instances where what happened differed from the instructions.

The real heavy lifting for Monday night and Tuesday morning was to compose a note to the nurses in the BMT (Bone Marrow Transplant, which is used synonymously with Stem Cell Transplant [SCT]) Unit.  My eyes ended up leaking quite a bit, but that is not unusual for me now.

November 20, 2012

Dear BMT Unit Nurses,

I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the wonderful care you collectively gave me during my fight to recover from my Stem Cell Transplant.  I always said I got the best nurses, but as I walked around the unit when I was recovered enough to exercise, I saw that all the nurses and the PCTs were the best.  I’d list names of those who cared for me, but I know I would miss some, and all of you provided top notch care.  Your support, your care, and your love made all the difference in my recovery.

Those of you who know me know that I get very emotional about my near-death experience in the depths, 7-9 days after receiving my SCT.  I liken it to the 23^rd Psalm: walking through the valley of the shadow of death.  It is only because this is an electronic document that there are no tear stains on it.  When I was shaking with the rigors, unable to eat, wracked with diarrhea, and weaker than I have ever been, you were there for me.  You provided hot blankets, aided me to the john when I felt woozy standing up, and provided assurance that what I was going through was pretty normal.  Well, your care was way above normal.  Collectively, you pulled out lots of tricks to provide me comfort, minimized interruptions to maximize my rest, and helped me keep myself clean enough to keep anything more rotten from happening.

My wife points out that there are also a whole host of people who provided crucial functions in my recovery that are invisible to me.  Technicians analyzing my blood counts, cleaners making the shower clean enough for someone immune-compromised, pharmacists providing the right drugs, whatever-you-call-them doing cultures on my blood to identify what my infection was – they and so many others played a key role in getting me better.  Not to mention the medical staff, who had to make key decisions and pull the rabbit out of the hat.  I’ve had a chance to thank the medical team.  Please thank the invisible staff for me when you have the chance.  But I still feel that you, the nursing staff, provide the immediate care and the sense of love and support that is so crucial in the healing process.

Posters in the lobbies talk about a Grateful Nation, as the BIDMC is the hospital of the Boston Red Sox.  Well, yours truly is a grateful individual, and my family is a grateful family because of all the care you provided me.  Thanks again, and I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your efforts.

Sincerely,

Greg Jones (247 57 85!)

Enough said.