Update from Princess Margaret Hospital

The last week here at the hospital has admittedly been a challenge. The transplant on the 20th was more unpleasant than I expected but it also marked the beginning of nausea. Since then my mucus fluid levels in my head have increased just as my mouth and tongue have swollen up, and I have developed lesions that have become incredibly painful so that I often cannot speak or swallow. I am on a permanent morphine drip to control the pain. Often this presents problems when I close my eyes. I have no problem telling the difference between reality and dreams except when I close my eyes. Then the two tend to fade into each other. Not fun!

I'm also on permanent oxygen supply because my blood oxygen levels are down. Amazingly it's related to my mouth and the mucus levels. My saliva, etc., runs down my throat in greater quantities and in a different consistency than before and it gets caught in my esophagus. I cough to loosen it and it goes away. This has gone on for several days. Now, I'm more tired, my esophagus is raw and my throat sore. So now it takes a few gentle coughs to free it up.

The mouth and tongue break down is largely due to the result of various side-effects of the preparatory chemotherapy and the TMX that I need to take in days following to diminish the severity of Graft Versus Host Disease.
Why do I write all of this? Largely so that you can know how to pray. The loss of mental alertness, the poor quality of nightly sleeping due to pain and coughing, and the disconcerting shifting between dreams and reality are the most troublesome. Positively, I have been told that none of this is unusual. Indeed, I am apparently doing quite well. There are other unpleasant side-effects that I have not experienced yet. Perhaps, I won't. One can hope!

Do uphold my family and the VOMC staff during these days as well. They are truly God's gifts to me, as are each of you who pray and sacrifice on behalf of the Persecuted Church.

I want to end with one lesson I learned recently at about 4:00 in the morning. My throat felt like it was on fire, resulting in excruciating pain in my ears. I felt as it I would lose my mind. Before I knew it, my teeth started chattering and I was surprised by this because I did not have a fever and I wasn't cold. I then remembered back to stories that I believe I read from Richard Wurmbrand of how extreme pain could bring about such chattering of teeth. O horror, as the body responds in shock. One's teeth chatter in pain.

Anyway, I found a ray of comfort from that in knowing that the pain I was experiencing was perhaps in magnitude, if not in nature, similar to that suffered by the persecuted during dark early mornings of torturous pain. The call to trust God in the midst of it all is the same, of course. May I be found faithful. Do remember me in your prayers.