We got everything lined up and tentatively scheduled for me to be admitted the Monday after July 4th weekend. I'll be in the hospital for three days then discharged to quasi-isolation at my mom's house. Day ten post-chemo, I'll start having daily blood tests and within a few days my blood counts will be back up high enough to do the pheresis. Then, I get better for a little more than a month. She said that there should be a month there that I'll feel pretty good and I won't have to be on strict isolation, I just have to be cautious and wear a mask in risky situations.
Then in late August I'll go in for the transplant. It's what I thought the timeline was going to look like, but it's good to have confirmation of that.
I took my last dose of progesterone yesterday, so theoretically, my body should be ready to start with the ovarian stimulation, I just have to wait to start until I get my (fake) period. And then, well then I get to stop talking and start actually doing something. The hormones are already driving me crazy and I'm not really looking forward to what I'm going to be like going forward. I ordered some hair stuff off of an infomercial (totally out of character) and BF told me I was being silly because I won't have hair in a month. I burst in to tears and ran and jumped under the covers. This afternoon I was driving downtown listening to my iPod. The acoustic version of Foo Fighters "Everlong" came on, followed by "My Hero" - before I knew it I was weeping uncontrollably. This is only going to get worse. I pity BF.