I get admitted on the 15th. Transplant on the 21st. And then we wait for the good stuff to happen.
Upon hearing this news, people who see me are giving me what I've called before "cancer face." That furrowed brow/eyes cast downward/head slanted sideways "how are you doing?" earnest inquiry. It's entirely well-meant but it drives me insane because I feel great, I look great (thank you very much), and I haven't felt so hopeful and positive in months. December and January were dark days, where I couldn't go forward and couldn't go back. Now, at least I'm on a path forward and I'm actually happy. Not happy-happy like "Woo hoo! A year in Punta Cana! I love it!" But definitely as in, "The only way out of some situations is through, so let's at least get the 'through' part started."
The coolest part of this is that my donor is a 23 year-old guy. How awesome is he? I don't know what you were doing at 23, but I sure wasn't concerning myself with some random lady's bone marrow situation. When I first found out his vitals I couldn't think about it without getting a little teary-eyed, just because I'm gonna owe this guy my life, and I'm stunned that someone is doing this for me, especially at 23. He's a perfect HLA match, the same blood type, and I am imagining that he is a dead ringer for Ewan McGregor. ;) He and I may never meet or know each other, but I've decided that I'm going to add him to my long list of Men I Love.