Day + 10 in the stem cell transplant timeline brings with it a chance to gather some of my observations and musings, as well as provide you with an update about where I am in recovery.

The yucks were definitely real. I felt like a melted snowman, and I lost at least four days trapped in their catacombs. I’ve bounced back though and finally feel more like myself despite the mouth and throat sores from the chemo, which is to be expected but nonetheless unpleasant. My blood counts are increasing slightly, which are a good sign because it indicates my donor’s cells are actually starting to grow inside of me. A weird reaction I’ve experienced is the prints on my thumbs and forefingers burn like crazy, but the burn subsides when I rub them together. My doctors and team are pleased with my progress and are extremely hopeful about my prognosis, and it’s nice to have a little bit of energy back. Not a lot, but more than I had. My counts need to jump a lot more and my mouth sores need to heal before I’m discharged. Once I am, I will still be going three times a week for treatment and observation, then eventually it will dwindle down to two, then one. The ultimate goal is to get to Day +100 with as little complications and setbacks as possible, and I will do it.

Here are some reflections I’ve collected over the past three weeks.

1. My goodness, THANK YOU! Thank you to everyone who has reached out. I never knew I was this loved, and it sure makes my heart happy and me smile. I’ve read every card, comment, email, and text message. Thank you also for your grace when I delay responding. This is still very overwhelming, and while fear has never entered my mind, I do encounter moments of sheer disbelief….WHAT? How can this actually be happening? And….WHAT? WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL?!?!?!?!?!??!!?
2. At times, I am an octopus because I have two arms, two legs, a triple lumen catheter with three ports hanging off it in my shoulder, and a bloodwork line in my arm. Octopus. When I got my first catheter put in, the doctor was blasting “More Human than Human” by White Zombie, which seemed fitting. I’ve had to have it replaced twice due to defective parts (a story for another time), but all is well. 
3. What are the odds one of the first nurses I met here would have a triskelion tattoo on her foot? I’ve never met anyone else with one before, and neither has she. Hmmmm……I wonder who could have orchestrated THAT encounter?
4. My DOLE mandarin oranges and pears are products of China. My DOLE peaches are products of Greece.
5. I’ve been finding a lot of meaning in my days especially in the comforts of watching favorite movies. Rocky IV has been on like three times, as has The Force Awakens, and I’ve rewatched both with new eyes (There’s No Easy Way Out, There’s No Shortcut Home…..). I’m also filling up my journals with anedotes, reflections, and one-liners while noting joysparks and gratitude each day.
6. Wide-leg or flare pants and v-neck sweaters with a lot of stretch have been my go to attire. The shirts are easy to slide down or step into the neck hole and pull up because of the cath, and the pants are helpful because they make it easier for my doctors to check my legs for swelling. Tight ankle pants and leggings are not good choices if you find yourself in a similar situation. 
7. I’ve craved water for months, but, man, after my second day of chemo, I could not drink water because it tasted disgusting, like dirt. Didn’t matter the brand, it was all heinously gross for about two weeks. Thankfully, my taste has switched back and I can once again tolerate water, which helps to better navigate and treat the mouth and throat sores.
8. My skin is different and changes by the minute. Bruising, dry and flaking, little red feathery fill-ins of the lines on my palms, some rashes and itchy patches. I’m using a lot of lotion to help alleviate the dryness and the redness. Again, it’s all part of the process and my skin will eventually rebound. My face is also different. It’s no secret that I’ve lost a good amount of weight, but my face has changed its shape to what it was before I started taking prednisone in 2007. I never realized how round and puffy my face had become. I sooooooooo hope that the Lupus and other autoimmune issues I had disappear from my new immune system. I’m also hoping my prednisone-induced type 2 diabetes vacates my body, too.
9. On some days, the ambulances never stop transporting patients here and I can hear them from my room. Most have an industrial train-style whistle which blares no matter the time of the day (think the train scene in My Cousin Vinny). Whenever I hear one, I send a positive thought to the patient inside and pray that he/she will be okay. This aligns with the little girl who, during the 1970s, would stop playing when she heard the first aid alarm when it would sound and worry about who was sick or hurt. I was told I’d have an ulcer by the time I was ten, but that never materialized. I still care and want everyone to be safe and healthy, and I don’t see that as a flaw.
10. Please respect the fact that I am on medical leave from my school until I am cleared to return by my doctors, which won’t be until September 1, 2025 at the earliest. If you have a need that has to do with school, find the appropriate person to ask instead of reaching out to me. I am also on hiatus from writing/editing for Jersey Shore Magazine, from book promotion events, and from teaching yoga/workshops until I am medically cleared. This is a long-haul, isolating cancer, and even after I’m discharged, I have to follow very strict social, nutritional, and other protocols for months to ward off infections and getting sick, which can jeopardize the transplant’s progress and success.

One last thought: What’s here is here, what’s coming is coming, and what’s happened has happened. There’s no sense in fighting against any of it, so I accept each day as it comes with the good and the bad because I have no choice. My cancer diagnosis has really shifted my priorities, and during this time of deep reflection, two big revelations came to me that will change my trajectory moving forward.

1. I want to fill the world with joy, and light, and love. My mission is that simple.
2. I will always choose love over hate, light over dark, calm over chaos, kindness over judgment, growth over stalemate, grratitude over villifying, and joy over acrimony, but I also honor that each one of these cannot exist without the other.

Look, I don’t care about your politics or religion, who you voted for, or who did what to whom. But the fact is everywhere I look, many of those proclaiming to speak against hatred are piously spewing hatred, and it is downright disgusting. And enough about the “what about ____” unless you are taking an active role in helping those people. If you would rather contribute to the current societal disorder, point fingers at one another, or scream so loud that no one can hear you, then your priorities might no longer align with mine. Please unfollow me if that is the case, accept my heartfelt wishes for a good life, and respect the reasons why I’ve asked you to move on. I’m not saying to silence your voice, but I would strongly urge you to use your voice in the most constructive way possible to preserve your inner peace while fostering togetherness instead of further perpetuating the great divide.

I recall the words spoken by one of my former students, Nicholas Ott, who was killed in Afghanistan in 2011 while serving our country: “Actions not words matter.” 

Actions. What do your actions say about you, and are they a true reflection of who you are? I hope my actions say that I advocate for joy, light, and love, no matter what, and that I try my best to be a good person. Thanks, Nick, for the much needed reminder. You are always remembered and someone I will forever admire.

As I wrote in my last few posts, I am the storm, dammit, and I am cancer’s worst nightmare. LFG!

Thank you for joining me on my journey. I’m so glad you are here.

With light and love,

Jill

“Cancer-cation Chronicles 003: Musings from Day +10 In The Void” was posted on jillocone.com on January 24, 2025. Views and opinions expressed in this post are solely those of the writer, who was not endorsed or compensated in any manner by any entity; views do not represent any of my employers. Copyright 2025, Jill Ocone. All rights reserved. Contact Jill with reposting, licensing, and publishing inquiries using any of the links below.