One month ago, I was discharged from the hospital after having a stem cell transplant, so I obviously am not lacking for material to write about in this col­umn.

As I reflect back on my experiences, I can't help but remember a chance en­coun­ter that I had with another myeloma patient who I met at my last Zometa (zole­dron­ic acid) treatment three weeks before my transplant.

On this particular day, the chemo wing at the cancer center was very busy and I shared a room with another gentleman. He was near the end of his treatment as the nurse was going through the routine questions with me before starting my treatment.

After the nurse left the room and I waited for the pharmacy to deliver the Zometa so my treatment could be­gin, he asked me if I was preparing for a stem cell transplant. I replied that I was, and that this was my last treatment before the transplant. He wished me well and said that he hoped the results of my trans­plant were as positive as his had been.

The remaining details of our short conversation were interesting, to say the least -- especially for someone like me who was just three weeks away from a stem cell transplant. My "roomie" had his stem cell transplant in 1998. The day we met, he was receiving treatment as he had recently relapsed for the first time since his transplant 16 years ago. That was obviously encouraging news to me.

He told me that the high-dose chemo infusion prior to his transplant lasted 96 hours, and that he wore a special pack on his hip that enabled him to receive the chemo without being bedridden. I couldn't help but compare and be thankful for the fact that my high-dose infusion of melphalan (Alkeran) would take just 45 minutes.

When he was discharged, he left the hospital not having any idea what his future held. He asked the doctors what he could expect in terms of the transplant outcome or his prognosis. Their response: "We don't know; it could be five weeks, five months, or five years." Again, I couldn't help but be thankful for the fact I knew I wouldn't have to live with such uncertainty after undergoing the transplant.

Why do I share this story with you? Because it gives us a perspective of how far the transplant process has come, which is of course stating the obvious, when one considers the advances in medicine and technology over the last 16 years.

More importantly, it reinforces how individualistic each response to this disease and treatment is. It was that way 16 years ago, and it is still that way. Please keep this in mind as I share my transplant experiences with you.

(If, after reading the account of my transplant here, you would like to know more about my experience, please see the Beacon forum thread where I posted off and on during the transplant.  It includes additional details about my transplant as well as many helpful comments from others who have had transplants.)

Yesterday I received my first myeloma counts since the transplant. My monoclonal protein count (M-spike) last October was approaching 1 g/dL. Seven cycles of Revlimid (lenalidomide) and dexamethasone (Dec­a­dron) reduced the count to just below 0.4 g/dL, but it started to rise again just prior to my scheduled trans­plant.

My monoclonal protein is now at 0.072 g/dL. A perfect result? No. But is there ever such a thing as a perfect result when dealing with this disease?

In the words of the nurse practitioner who shared this news with me "This has been a huge success!" I am going to take her word for it, and my family celebrated it as such last night.

Physically, I feel better than I have in two years. The gastrointestinal side effects I experienced right after the transplant are completely gone and have been so for two weeks now. I have no bone pain or neuropathy.

My energy level has rebounded to normal. Five days after I was discharged from the hospital, all dietary and physical restrictions were lifted. Two days after that, I returned to work as a school superintendent, working two to four hours per day in the morning. I then rested for several hours at home, and worked from home for the rest of the day. For the last two weeks, I have resumed a normal work schedule.

The most pleasing result is how I feel mentally and emotionally. The fog is gone, and I have a newfound mental and emotional energy that is noticeable to everyone who knows me well.

My hair is starting to grow back, and I am slowly starting to gain back some of the 22 pounds I lost.

The only negative aspects I am experiencing now are that my appetite still has not returned to normal, and very few things taste as they once did. I also have an itching sensation over my entire body, but a low dose of prednisone is quickly resolving that issue.

These positive results I have shared with you should not leave you with the impression that the transplant was a walk in the park. It was anything but that.

In an earlier column, I stated that the treatment with Revlimid and dexamethasone was the toughest thing I had experienced in my life. While the treatment occurred over a seven-month period compared to barely six weeks for the transplant process (from admittance to today), the impact of the daily Revlimid doses and weekly dex doses seems almost trivial now compared to the side effects of the one-time high-dose mel­pha­lan infusion.

I was ill prepared for what seemed to be almost hourly attacks of nausea and diarrhea that I experienced during the first 10 days of my hospitalization.

I remember very little from the first eight or nine days of the process. My wife says that all I did during that time was curl up into a ball and sleep. She recounts events that took place during that time and I have very little recollection of any of them.

My doctor informed me that the trouble I have remembering events from that time is something that occurs in some patients, and it is due to the heavy medication given to counteract the severe nausea from the melphalan infusion.

I have read accounts of transplant patients who found their transplant experience somewhat restful. That was not the case for me. Vitals being checked every four hours, and sometimes more frequently, a physical exam by the registered nurse every time there was a nurse/shift change, blood draws, and the numerous gastrointestinal incidents that occurred led to many restless nights for me.

I ate very little during my hospitalization; nothing tasted good. I needed additional IVs for nutrition.

I had one pet peeve during my hospitalization: the bed alarm. Because there is a real fear of patients falling during the early phase of the transplant process, when they are weakened by the chemo and other medications, during a two-day stretch of time I was instructed to ring the nurse’s station every time I had to use the bathroom.

One night during that time, my diarrhea attacks were so severe and sudden that I knew it would be humanly impossible for the personal care assistant (PCA) to respond in time to assist me to the bathroom.

I informed the registered nurse of this and also told her I was in no danger of falling. Nevertheless, she insisted on adhering to the center’s policy, and the bed alarm was activated. My plan to just ignore the policy and take care of business on my own was thwarted, as I now could not leave my bed without the nurse’s station knowing I had done so.

I have a confession to make. After my prediction of the PCA not being able to respond in time came true, I disarmed the alarm and got through the night without any further embarrassing moments.

My disobedience was discovered the next morning when the new registered nurse, after checking my chart, questioned me as to why there were so few "bathroom visits" recorded in the previous night (and none after a certain time). I sheepishly admitted to my insubordination and gave her a more accurate count for the chart.

Things started to improve 8 days after the melphalan infusion, and I was finally discharged 15 days after the infusion.

So you may be wondering whether I made the right decision in having a stem cell transplant.

I realize that the answer to this question is very personal and subjective, but here is my take on it:

Over the last three months of my initial treatment, I told my wife on numerous occasions that I just wanted to feel normal again. Prior to my transplant, my oncologist told me that it would be at least seven months after the transplant before any maintenance regimen would be initiated.

If these next seven months are anything like the last two weeks, then the answer to the above question is an unqualified yes.  It was the right decision because my simple wish to feel normal again has been granted.

In my mind, any extension beyond those seven months will be icing on the cake.

In the back of my mind, I am hoping for results similar to those experienced by my acquaintance from the chemo wing: 16 years before the inevitable relapse occurs.