Editor's note: This is the fourth in an occasional series where Register outdoors columnist George Carl and his wife Andi Burke-Carl chronicle their experience as George goes through a bone marrow transplant.

Wow, it is now Day 50 since my bone marrow transplant. My time here at Stanford University Hospital has been quite the experience. This procedure is more of a commitment than I originally imagined.

This is the crucial time for what is called Host vs. Graft disease, which occurs when the host’s body doesn’t respond to the cells donated by another person.

The journey to this point has been a long one. After being diagnosed with two kinds of leukemia, I went through chemotherapy and radiation treatments. When I was finally told that my only hope was to get a bone marrow transplant, a new chapter opened for me. I shipped out from Napa to Stanford a couple of months ago to undergo this intensive procedure.

It turned out that none of my siblings was a possible bone marrow donor, but we did find one in Europe. At least we think he or she is from Europe. I won’t know for two years, but we are still planning a big party then and that person will be invited.

The donor's cells arrived at Stanford by airplane. Then each cell had to be inspected by specialists to assure that all of them were OK. The actual transplant, which took place April 22, was like getting a blood transfusion through the catheter in my chest.

I have mentioned in my previous articles the heavy regimen of pills and medications I am on. Now, I am being slowly weaned off some of the pills to see if my body can handle it. So far I have been very weak, but have not experienced extra-high temperatures.

I have watched many of the other bone marrow transplant recipients during my clinic visits. Some of them looked very tired and not well during the period from day 40 to day 60 after the transplant. Many fellow patients look much better as time goes on. Each person is different, and the meds are also different for each person.

I now go from my nearby apartment to Stanford only twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays. It usually takes all morning for tests, waiting for results, and then getting any infusions if necessary. They take good care of us, and I feel confident they know what is going on in my body better than I do. I am fortunate to have my sister and brother-in-law taking care of me until school gets out. Then my wife, Andi, will be back here in mid-June.

I understand why I need a full-time caregiver. There are days I am too weak to do much more than get up and walk to the bathroom. Driving a car is definitely not on the daily agenda.

I was wondering how much all this cost, so I set up an appointment with Gary Goldstein, chief financial officer at Stanford, to get a better picture.

First, we used general costs, not just Stanford’s cost. One night in the hospital at Stanford costs from $2,000 to $10,000, depending on the care needed. There are eight levels of care, and they all affect costs. An average bone marrow transplant in the U.S. averages $230,000, and that includes a full year of pre- and post-care. That average changes as well, depending on the kind of cancer a person has. If someone has an unrelated donor, as I do, it could be $500,000 or more.

Since I was diagnosed with leukemia in 2004, with all the chemo and hospital time, I may have run up bills from $300,000 to $400,000. Add my transplant and the housing costs, I may have cost my insurance from $850,000 to almost $1 million.

Goldstein said many insurance policies have a $1 million limit. Others are 80/20 plans, meaning insurance pays 80 percent of the cost and the patient pays 20 percent. Most hospitals, including Stanford, work with patients to help with costs.

According to Goldstein, my HMO, Kaiser, is one of the best around when it comes to this kind of coverage. They don’t ask questions and pick up all the bills. I am grateful for my insurance and will never question paying the monthly premiums. If you do not have insurance and want to live, I suggest you make some arrangements. Since statistics say one in three of us will get cancer, we just can’t take a chance.

As for me, for now I just have to get through these next 50 days and grow stronger. I feel I am in the best hands possible, but I am sure looking forward to coming home in mid-July and being active again. Or at least semi-active. It is supposed to take a full year to recover from this procedure. Life is STILL good.