Part I: Harvesting

Almost a month has passed, and I still think it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I have no regrets, but it definitely is not for the faint of heart. Although I’d asked all the right questions, the experience of having my adipose stem cells harvested from my abdomen was not quite what I expected. The doctor was excellent, but it was still overwhelming and incredibly intense. As I watched him lower the scalpel, I thought “What am I doing? This is insane”.

Yes, you have it right. I was awake during the procedure. I could see the surgeon and the nurse the whole time. I could see the different equipment and instruments being used. While on the surgical table, I felt the prick of the needle on each side of my abdomen. The initial incisions were made, and more local anesthetic was pumped in. After waiting for the anesthetic to take effect special instruments were used to collect the stem cells.

It sounds simple enough, but what does this really mean? Exactly what happens?

I will tell you. Surgical instruments are inserted between the skin and muscle along the width of the abdomen via the small incision sites. Anesthetic fluid is pumped in slowly to help numb the area inside and separate the skin from the muscle and fat. More instruments are used to suck out the tissue, which contains the valuable stem cells. Occasionally there was a little bit of pain, as the cannulas hit a sensitive area. Imagine poking a small hole in a cantaloupe, and then scraping out some of the fruit without disrupting the seeds, over and over. Adipose stem cell harvesting is like that. It feels like that.

I have been a thin person almost all of my life. It felt unpleasant, this scraping. It was a sensation unlike anything else. On a person with more body fat the sensation might be different or less pronounced. After an hour it was finally over. I was relieved to be done, since I’d reached my limit mentally and emotionally. The surgeon had done his best to collect as much as possible, considering I didn’t have a lot to work with. My life-saving stem cells were whisked off to the lab.

A few stitches on each side, gauze, bandages, and a compression bandage around my abdomen. The hard part was done. I got up after a few minutes, and joined my mother in the waiting room, while my stem cells were being prepared for re-entry. I was exhausted and mentally wiped out. I wasn’t in any pain, and it would take many hours for the numbness to dissipate.

"All done."

“All done.”

Now what? I’d made other requests before deciding to fly to Florida for this vital stem cell treatment. Would they be fulfilled?

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