It’s been a while since I’ve written for a couple of
reasons. One is that nothing much
has changed physically. My T cells
are still low and my donor vs. my cell percentage are still at 60/40 in one
area. My doctor continues to
reduce my Tacro, immunosuppressant, with the hope that it will encourage the
donor cells to ramp up. I have
only have some very mild GVHD skin symptoms. All in all, no change.
The real reason I haven't written is that I have developed a
new symptom that no one likes to talk about. Depression. I
didn’t believe it at first. Then I
tried to self talk myself out of it, pretend it wasn’t happening. I have always been an upbeat, outgoing,
independent, get a grip kind of gal.
I don’t get depressed! And
I don’t know what to do with myself now that I am.
I share this now because the purpose of this blog is not
just for prayer support but to inform and prepare those who walk this road
after me. Just as I read and
learned from others before me. I
have already heard from so many who have benefitted from our story. It is important to tell this part too.
Chronic fatigue can cause depression. The sheer length of recuperation
downtime can cause depression. The
feeling of dependency, of not contributing, of feeling like you don't have a purpose can all
lead to depression. My doctor told
me last week that over 50% of her transplant patients are on some sort of
anti-depressant. First you’re
given a fatal diagnosis, then you spend months going through the rigors of
transplant, then you spend months in quiet healing. There is a lot of alone time with no productivity. I am continually reminded that my job is to heal.
The fatigue leaves you too tired to do much. There was a stretch when the fatigue
was improving and my few chores were being accomplished easier. I manage to do the laundry, grocery
shopping, and the cooking. (This came with time.) But now
the depression makes me have to talk myself through each step. Depression makes you tired and not feel
like doing the things that you know would make you feel better. It’s a vicious cycle. All you want to do is sleep, but sleep
no longer comes.
So I try to focus on thankfulness. I am thankful that God decided to save me. I don’t know why he chose to let me
live, but I am grateful that He did!
I am thankful for my donor.
I am thankful for my husband/caregiver. He has been my strong, loving supporter through it all. I am thankful for my doctor/medical
team. I am thankful for my mom and
how she has cared for me throughout this year. I am thankful for my cousins, aunts, friends who have taken
me to my appointments. I am
thankful for the countless family and friends who have prayed and sent notes
and cards of encouragement. I am thankful for wonderful children and grandchildren who I love and adore and want to spend years of quality time with. I am thankful for our place in the country where we can go and relax and do the things that bring so much pleasure.
I have to believe that this is just another bump in the
road. Right now it feels huge and
overwhelming. I can’t see around
it. All I can do is believe that
there will be a tomorrow when it will be better. We’ve come this far.
We’ll make it through this as well.