Five Years
06/11/2025 Diary Entry: A recollection of love, pain, & gratitude.
On this day, five years ago I was given someone else’s stem cells through an IV. It smelled like beets. Weird right? It also replaced my DNA with his. It changed my blood type. This was after weeks and months of chemotherapy stripping my cells into nothing—degrading them so much that I didn’t make my own blood anymore. I got a bag or so of blood or platelets every other day. I wasn’t allowed to leave the wing of the hospital I was in because on top of not producing red blood cells or platelets, I also had zero white blood cells to fight off any infections I might get. I vomited almost everything I was able to get down, which wasn’t much because the chemo made the skin on the inside of my mouth and throat peel off in sheets and become covered in sores so I didn’t really eat. Water also felt like knives as it went down so I didn’t really drink either. I relied on IV fluids. The doctor’s said food didn’t matter so much right now. I was around 90lbs at my lowest. My hair felt out gradually. Did you know that your eyebrows, eyelashes, and leg hair fall out first? The hair on your head, at least for me, was last. It felt cruel for me to be able to hang onto the hair on my head the longest. The hair I was most afraid to lose. My hair that I was most worried about when I was diagnosed. Hair that I mourned. I actually stopped brushing my hair because I thought to myself, why bother? It was going to fall out anyway. I put it in a bun and I let it get more and more matted as it fell out with no where to go. By the time the nurse came around to shave my head, she couldn’t get the hair tie out. I was right, it really didn’t matter when it was going to get shaved off any way. I ignored the smell. I couldn’t really shower to wash it regardless. The hospital’s water remained cold except when it reached a tepid lukewarm that scalded my peeling raw skin.
But five years ago today I was given the stem cells of a man from Germany. He was my best match. His DNA was closest to mine that would allow my body to remake healthy cells instead of cancerous ones. I felt like I was transformed into someone else from the inside out. My skin was preserved but my insides were melted down and drained out. My bones. My blood. My guts and organs. They became soup inside me. The doctors made me puke them all up. Over and over until all that came up was putridness. Then with a plastic tube inserted into my chest, I was replaced. They sewed me up. They fed me pills that kept my old self from fighting my new self until they knew it was squashed forever. My old self was killing me.
For the last five years, I begged for the treatment to have worked while cursing the cancer for not killing me quicker and preventing all of this torture to begin with. For the longest time, Brenna Twohy’s words “Am I supposed to be grateful to have survived this?” burned through me with resonation. Gratefulness was anticipated and begged for from me almost immediately— praising the same God who soured my insides to begin with. After five years, I have not left this anger behind me. I didn’t deserve it.
Today, what I will leave behind is the anticipation that she will be back. My old self. She was beaten. She was mangled. She was bruised and bloodied. She turned into a witch from all of that trauma and rotted me to my core, cackling as she did it. I could not save her. She was beyond my help. I carried her memory on my back until today. They got her out of me for a reason. She was cancer.
Today is five years. Five long years of digging my nails into the wood of the coffin and through the dirt. I clawed my way out until light poured through from above. I will bury her on my way out. I will sing to her as I dance on her grave but I will speak softly as I say goodbye. I will kiss the dirt and plant flowers where she lay. We both deserved better.
I can’t wait to see what the next five will bring.
Acknowledgments: To my mother, who cared for me without complaining. Who took my hurt and softened it as much as she could. Who saved my life as it was ending. To Eric, for never leaving my side. For allowing me to have happiness in the darkest times. For loving me endlessly. To Benjamin, for his act of selflessness and providing me with my cure.
Did you know that giving stem cells is as easy as giving blood? Learn more about how to be a match to save someone’s life like mine through this link.
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I had my transplant six weeks ago for lymphoma after relapsing at the two year mark. Your words resonate so wholly. Congratulations on five years
I didn’t know the old Meg and don’t know you but what i can say is that you are an excellent, powerful writer and I am so thankful your treatments worked. Thank you for sharing your story and for sharing the pictures. You are beautiful 💛