Through Crimson Eyes

by Level Dasher

Chapter 59: Entr'acte Part II

At the start of the new regimen, the oncologists determined that I had tried enough unsuccessful treatments that the best way to treat me from there was to do a stem cell transplant. When they started talking to me about the risks, I listened intently, right up until they mentioned something that I had forgotten: stem cells are made in the bone marrow. When I heard that, the first thought that went through my head was White Stripe, and I couldn’t think about anything else.

When the doctors finished their explanation, I was too freaked out to ask about the connection with Stripes, so I spent a week worrying my flank off about it. It certainly didn’t help Tess any. She didn’t leave the hospital unless my mother came all the way from Ponyville, which unfortunately, was an infrequent occurrence. Since I had received my own laptop for college, I used it to video chat with her, so she usually didn’t really have a reason to come visit. I kept telling Tess to go back to the apartment and get some rest, but if nopony else would be there, she consistently refused.

The regimen the doctors put me on was strange. I felt like crud during the first round, probably because they spent a week searching for infections before they actually started the new therapy— five straight days of four different medications. The weird part was that during the second round, I actually felt great. I never thought chemo would have made me feel so good. When I told the doctors that, they got really excited and decided to do an early scan.

It turned out that I had such a good reaction to the therapy they gave me, the scan showed no signs of cancer after only two rounds. But, like I said earlier, that didn’t mean there was nothing there. It did change the doctors’ outlook on my situation, though.

The doctors decided to do what they called an autologous stem cell transplant, which meant they would take out my own stem cells, then give them back to me later to try and actually cure the cancer instead of just manage it. The idea confused me until they said it would require more chemotherapy first, and that there had never been any signs of cancer in my bone marrow. That made a little more sense. They also told me there were some pretty major differences between an autologous transplant and an allogeneic one— that’s where I would have gotten stem cells from somepony else. There were more details involved, but I generally try not to get too deep into the explanations unless somepony asks.

When I mustered up the courage to mention White Stripe, the doctors took a look back through Ponyville General’s records, and understood my worry. Aside from having an allogeneic bone marrow transplant, which is much riskier, White Stripe also had other problems that caused the transplant to fail. Normally, they wouldn’t have been allowed to tell me that, but they told me they contacted Stripes’ mother and dropped my name, so she gave them permission to tell me the reasons why, as long as they gave her my contact info. I agreed, of course, and that led to a long conversation with her. She wanted to know how I was doing, she couldn’t believe I was still dealing with this, but was glad I was okay, and wanted to get together the next time I came home. It was a conversation I was perfectly happy to have.

The doctors explained that while there are obviously risks to an autologous transplant, they’re much less intense and common than those associated with an allogeneic one, aside from the potential for another relapse due to possible residual cancer cells being left. The point, though, was that they intended to wipe out the rest of my internal system to enough of a degree before they collected my good stem cells, that there would be a slim to nil chance of my having another relapse. That made me feel a lot better about the whole thing, and became the deciding factor that convinced me to consent to the transplant, despite how scary it sounded.

After another round of chemo, they cycled out my stem cells, then gave me what they called ‘conditioning chemotherapy.’ That’s the stuff that wiped out my system. It wasn’t too bad at first, but after a couple of days, I was always exhausted, despite laying in bed doing nothing every day. To my relief, the doctors said that was totally normal.

Mom came up from Ponyville so Tess could take a break, but the stubborn filly still wouldn’t leave. With my mother there, I eventually managed to convince her to go back to our apartment for a few days of proper sleep—all the hospital had to offer her was a chair—but on the day of the stem cell transplant, she was right back at my side.

About two weeks later, my overall levels came back amazingly high— for a post-transplant patient, at least. The doctors couldn’t believe it. No joke, they practically kicked me out— they said I had recovered so quickly that I didn’t need to be there. All I had to do was stay out of public places as much as possible and avoid foals for the first couple of months—100 days, to be exact—until my next scan. Then they’d let me know from there. I spent most of that time at our apartment playing games, watching TV, doing some occasional work, and helping Tess out when she needed it.

Just short of three months out, everypony was thrilled to hear that the transplant appeared to have worked; based on my blood tests and the scan results, the doctors declared me back in remission. I felt fine, everything related to my heart was going well, and anything cancer-related appeared to have gone away. The celebration Tess and I had the night that I got the results from the scan was anything but dull.

After that, Tess and I went back to the usual routine: research, projects, foundation work, etc. I still had to be careful, because I hadn’t quite hit that 100 days yet, but it wasn’t too terrible. When I hit the 100 days, the hospital gave me clearance to do most massive public activity again, but neither Tess nor I were particularly fond of that kind of stuff anyway, so it didn’t really matter. When my year-out scan came back completely negative, we were told that as far as the doctors were concerned, I was cancer-free. The transplant had done its job.

I’m pretty sure the party Tess arranged a week later was the biggest one I had ever attended. I can’t even remember all the ponies that were there. Family and friends from home, college, work, and practically any other aspect of life, both mine and Tesla’s, that I can think of were there. Even Princess Luna showed up for a moment, wondering what the commotion was all about. When we told her, she congratulated me and resumed her night-time duties.

In reality, Tess had invited the Princess to the party, but she had to decline, so Tess and I had been invited to the castle two days before the party for a private royal celebration, but nopony was supposed to know about that.

After about two years of a fairly routine lifestyle, in the medical world and the ‘real’ world, I felt that things were finally going smoothly enough that I started thinking about something else. I was nervous at first, considering all the medical stuff I had dealt with. I was afraid it might be a contributing factor in the decision. In the end, I felt the answer was clear.

I had quite a few ponies I could turn to for help and advice, and I wanted it to be perfect. My mother was a huge help, as well as Topaz Moon, and I even got some tips from Princess Luna. I didn’t know it at the time, but she was even there when I did it. When she told me, it made sense. Some things about that night had seemed just a little… too perfect. Not that I complained, of course.

I’ve been through a lot in my life, not all of it good. I’ve dealt with pain, loss, and many problems that few ponies have had to experience. Some wonder how I managed to stay sane through it all, and whenever they ask, I always tell them it’s because I’ve had support from my family and friends. I may have to deal with more of those problems for the rest of my life, but despite all the pain, all the loss, the hang-ups, the obstacles, all of it— as long as I have family and friends to support me, I think I’ll be just fine.

Especially since one of them decided to be both.

Author's Note:

Once again, I want to thank Ayemel for her amazing artwork. There is a TON of detail in this picture, so I highly recommend clicking on this one, too.

Also, I'm sure it feels like I rushed through another crucial time in Crimson's life with this part of the Entr'acte, but if I had gone through all the details, this story would have gotten REALLY long. I had to shorten this part down, for my own sake.

Comments

[Dreams of Ponies]

Freakin art is fantastic, gawd.

Also, glad this finally happened. It's nice when ponies realize what's really important, here and now.

I also am having a flashback to very early when Tesla wished for nothing more than to be with Crimson, that the potential for losing somepony close to you is all the more reason to be close to them now.