A Pain in the Neck

Tomorrow, I have an online education session about my autologous stem cell transplant. I’ve been reading the giant preparation binder, but I haven’t thought of any questions. Considering that’s what I do for a living, I’m a little disappointed in myself, but I haven’t gotten through much of the material.

Part of me is honestly scared of what’s ahead. All I can think of are frivolous and fantastical concerns. For now, I will blame my procrastination on the plastic-loving cat, who runs her sandpaper tongue over the edges of the binder whenever I try to read. Here are a few of the concerns I won’t talk about tomorrow:

Do vampires roam the hospital floors? My most immediate cause for alarm yesterday was when I read that you smell like garlic for a few days after the transplant. With all this blood, are they keeping us from turning into vampires? Is a stem cell transplant really taking someone to the edge of vampirism, and then giving us stem cells to prevent the change? Is that why some patients in the hospital have “sitters” with them all night? It’s not to help guide them to the bathroom—it’s to prevent them from draining other patients while they sleep.

I’ve seen several Blade movies. Also, I was goth for awhile and have read all the Anne Rice vampire novels, so I can be considered somewhat of a vampire expert.

According to the binder, it’s a preservative that causes the garlic smell, not your body fighting off vampirism. I prefer to turn cutting-edge science into terms I can understand: medieval villager talk.

I also read that the nurses can give you lemons to alleviate the garlic smell. That sounds…sort of delicious, if paired with a delicate fish and a nice white wine. But if I see anyone with a chef’s hat lurking around those few days, I’m leaving that hospital. At least my garlic smell will keep away those on the verge of turning.

Whatever will I wear?  After I Googled “stem cell transplant shirts” or “catheter shirts,” only a few results come up—including my own blog. Am I the only person with sartorial concerns during my stem cell transplant? I really don’t think I’ll care what I’ll look like—after all I’m supposed to feel horrible, and I’ve looked better.

But hospital gowns are drafty. After the leukapheresis catheter placement, I could wear my lounge pants, but I had to wear a gown on top to provide access to the catheter. I thought a lot about my gown when I was in the hospital after so recently seeing all the Oscar fashions. My gown could be said to have a plunging and an open back, worn off-the shoulder. Most gowns, though, whether they’re ball gowns or hospital gowns, aren’t that comfortable for long-term wear.

My booklet says that if you wear you own clothes to the hospital, to wear shirts that allow catheter access. So does that mean Henleys? Baseball jerseys? I have a few button-top tees and thermals. I’ve done some tentative internet searches and all I know is that L.L.Bean probably has whatever I need (or great Google analytics).

What do I do with my head? Right now, my head smells like a Strawberry Shortcake doll and her cat, Custard. If you were a little girl in the early ’80s, you know what I’m talking about. I should wear a big muffin hat to keep my head warm and get some striped stockings.

One of the best things about Strawberry Shortcake dolls was that they smelled like the desserts—the namesake character, Lemon Meringue, and her other friends. (Also, why do they keep updating dolls? This is not how they looked before. Strawberry Shortcake lives in a land of desserts; she doesn’t text and go shopping at the mall with her tween friends.)

In an effort to ease my scalp dryness since the hospital, I’ve taken to oiling my head with some of The Body Shop’s Beautifying Oils I got at a press event. I remember at the event, the PR person said you could put it your hair, so I did. This happened a lot at beauty events. I would put face cream on my face instead of on the back of my hand. PR people always seemed taken aback, so I kept doing it. I gave most of the oils away, but I can now choose between strawberry and Satsuma.

If I’m bald, then do I have dandruff? I’m still trying to figure out what I should use. I’m afraid to use moisturizer, although I guess I can opt for a natural brand.

So these are my concerns today. I’m sure I’ll have some legitimate ones tomorrow. Until then, I will think about how to ask delicately about vampires in the halls and hospital fashion.