The next day after my first Removab treatment I woke feeling on top of the world. I was feeling and looking great. That bothered me. I saw several patients at Hallwang go through the Removab experience, and the morning after they looked like train wrecks. I was thankful, don’t get me wrong, it just seemed unusual. But then again, nothing seems to be going according to the norm for me. At breakfast I got a few comments on how good I looked, and that I must have really strong recuperative powers. At that point I had a suspicion that I was in trouble.
After lunch things started to go down hill. I was not feeling great and it just got worse as the day went on. I didn’t even bother trying to make it to dinner. If I managed to eat anything, it would just have been wasted anyway.
The next two days were not much better. I had plans to visit the family over the weekend, but was advised not to leave the clinic for the time being, as my liver enzymes were through the roof. I knew that my liver wasn’t working every time I went to the toilet. There is something unsettling about pale, almost white stool. Stool typically gets its colour from bilirubin and this is mostly processed by the liver and expelled via the digestive tract. Not after Removab it seems.
On the fourth day I was finally feeling better, but was told that my haemoglobin was very low and that I needed a blood transfusion. Trans WHAT??
I was not feeling that bad at that point and I tried to argue, but the doc had a good counter argument. He mentioned that getting t cells from another person may help with my cancer. As this is what the chinese LIFT trial is based on (Injecting t cells from about 20 different donors with natural cancer resistance) I agreed and the next day I was to have two bags of fresh German blood. Yum.
Hallwang get the blood from the spa town of Baden-Baden, I was told, which is really close to the french border. I just hoped it would be German blood as I am allergic to French. 🙂
During the transfusion the doctor on duty asked me how I was feeling. I could not resist. I looked at her and in a raspy, throaty voice, tinged with a Transylvanian accent (a voice I use to scare my kids). I said: “I want… to drink…. your bood”. She almost jumped out of her chair from fright. The infusion room burst out in laughter. I know, the poor doctor, but laughter is good for cancer right?
I got my blood and it must have been German as I had this odd craving for currywurst ever since.
The transfusion raised my haemoglobin levels from 8.5 to 11. Better, but still below normal. It however seemed to satisfy the Hallwang doc however.
I finally started to feel normal and then my chemo port got infected. But that is another story…