Man in the box

“I'm the man in the box
Buried in my sh*t
Won't you come and save me, save me” - Alice in Chains, Man in the Box

This is how I felt twice a day for 4 days during the conditioning process for the stem cell transplant. Allow me to indulge you.

As mentioned in the past, conditioning for the stem cell transplant takes place during the first 7 days of admission to the hospital. Two days of chemotherapy (citoxan) and 4 days (7 treatments in total) of double day full body radiation.

At 9am, my nurse rolled into my fish bowl of a hospital room with a wheelchair, blanket, my chart and bucket (in case I threw up). We would take the elevator down to radiology. To help relax, I would bring CD’s for my listening pleasure during my 30 minutes of radiation.

The radiology nurse laid me down on a flat table. She would place a plastic see-through box over my face (apparently the mind is a terrible thing to waste or in this case radiate) and then she high-tailed it out to the safe-bunker and flipped the switch. The X-ray light turned on, a buzzing in the room began, and so did my sobs. It felt kind of a tanning bed but with much a different end result.

This process repeated itself at 4pm. And then 9am. And then 4pm. And every time, no matter how well I was prepared or what music I brought, I cried. Tears streamed down my cheeks, while the buzzing continued and that stupid X-ray light flickered in the corner of my eye.

I cried for my son growing up father-less. I cried for my parents who would have to bury their youngest son. I cried for my brother, who was giving me his blood in an attempt to save my life. I cried because I was terrified. I cried like a baby. I cried because I needed hope. But whatever I cried for, no resolution was found in that f*cking box over my head.

Helpless, hopeless, and in disbelief. I was “the” man in the box. Buried in sh*t. And no one came to save me. I was alone. In some aspects, I still am. Don’t take this as a cry for pity or attention, just the way I feel at times. Don’t feel sorry for me. Nobody brought this on. People everyday are fighting the same battle. We don’t want or need your pity, just your support and sometimes our space.

I said this was going to get real. Here comes the pain. My pain. It may be slow coming, but it will come.

~Cheers
Adam