When I got back to the hospital yesterday at noon, Jimmy looked grim. Some of the early factors indicated that he was not producing many stem cells. Dr. Lonial came in, Dr. Flowers came in, hemepheresis personnel were in and out. Everyone was trying to be upbeat, saying things like " it's too early to tell yet" and "sometimes you get good results when you think you're not going to", but we could tell that they were worried. They finished up at about 2:30, and the little bag of fluid was taken to the lab to be analyzed. That would take two to three hours.

Jimmy and I were in an agony of suspense. What if we didn't get any stem cells? What if we COULDN'T get any stem cells? What would we do then? By 5 o'clock, Jimmy's jaw hurt from clenching his teeth, and I was in tears and my stomach hurt. When Dr. Flowers came in at 5:30 and told us that we had collected 2.3 million cells, we were weak with relief. That's enough (barely) to do one transplant, and we're collecting again today.

One of the hardest things about all of this has been how you live and die with every number, every test, every step forward and every step back. Every day is an emotional rollercoaster.

But to all of you who have been saying prayers for Jimmy and me: thanks, and keep it up. I think it's working.