I recieved a phone call the other day. It turns out that the recipient I was matched to back in 2003 needs my stem cells now. 7 years later.
I never argue with a Sicilian when death is on the line.
It's all well and good to think, "oh boy! I'll never miss a few stem cells!" Until you start reading through the paperwork and disclaimers. And start thinking about the physical. And the injections.
I fly South on Wednesday to have a physical. It will likely be the most comprehensive one i have ever had. I am scared. I feel healthy, but what if they find out I have cancer? or Herpegonesyphyaides which might be even worse since I'd have to start calling ex partners to tell them to get their asses tested. You never know. It's a scary world out there.
I can perseverate on the what ifs all day, but in the end, I will be on a plane on Monday morning and they likely won't find anything more than a vitamin deficiency since I skate my minerals away and live on cupcakes. I will be back on Monday afternoon.
Then the injections begin. injections that will raise my level of stem cells so they can be sucked out. The warnings on the paperwork are scarier than bungee jumping. It's not going to be as easy or painless as I thought. Headaches and bone pain, swelling and a bleeding spleen. I need my spleen. But... I can live without it if I have to. (dear god don't let me lose my spleen! I still have my tonsils and wisdom teeth for goodness sake!)
I think the scariest part is where I have to fly south again and SIT STILL for 4 to 6 HOURS while they filter those precious cells out again. sit. still. still. I don't sit still. Will I get to use my hands? If I can use my hands I can knit. Or read. I'm pretty sure embroidery is out. Maybe there will be ice cream. Ice cream makes everything better.
Minor discomfort. Somebody's life. I don't really think there is anything to consider, do you?