I was so excited to be disconnected from Dmitry, but wasn't prepared for the transition off chemo. Everyone told me this would be the hardest week, but I couldn't really imagine how the worst week would feel. I was already feeling like the survivor of a nuclear blast (no idea what that feels like either). But Wednesday, sometime in the middle of the night, I rolled over onto my right side and felt sharp stabbing pain in my stomach, then my mouth filled with saliva. This started the worst day ever. I was extremely weak. Too week to not cry about my stomach pain. Too weak to feel regular nausea until it erupted in my mouth. I sounded like a bleating goat on its way to slaughter, doubled over when I could mange to sit up. For the first time I needed an escort to the bathroom because I was too wobbly on my feet.
Teams of people come to visit me, all wearing yellow robes now under the presumption that I have c. diff. Every sign of infection is considered very seriously. I spiked a low fever, and my stomach pain wasn't going away, so at about 1am I was wheeled down for a contrast CAT scan. They were looking for a bowel infection. They pulled more blood from me in multiple locations for cultures. They found a staph infection in my blood most likely introduced by my picc line. But even before they knew the results I was started on wide spectrum antibiotics.
I'm going to have this picc line removed, so unfortunately I'll be dealing with a lot more needle sticks in the arm. And my scalp is starting to feel itchy and tender. I seem to have little bumps growing all over my pasty white skin. I take that as a sign that the hair is about to go on strike.
The only consolation now is the drugs. It seems I can ask for whatever I want to help with nausea and pain, so I started asking early and often. Now I'll be on a scheduled dose of anti-nausea meds. Some of them make me feel pretty relaxed, so drifting off to sleep throughout the day is a totally valid way for me to spend my days.
Teams of people come to visit me, all wearing yellow robes now under the presumption that I have c. diff. Every sign of infection is considered very seriously. I spiked a low fever, and my stomach pain wasn't going away, so at about 1am I was wheeled down for a contrast CAT scan. They were looking for a bowel infection. They pulled more blood from me in multiple locations for cultures. They found a staph infection in my blood most likely introduced by my picc line. But even before they knew the results I was started on wide spectrum antibiotics.
I'm going to have this picc line removed, so unfortunately I'll be dealing with a lot more needle sticks in the arm. And my scalp is starting to feel itchy and tender. I seem to have little bumps growing all over my pasty white skin. I take that as a sign that the hair is about to go on strike.
The only consolation now is the drugs. It seems I can ask for whatever I want to help with nausea and pain, so I started asking early and often. Now I'll be on a scheduled dose of anti-nausea meds. Some of them make me feel pretty relaxed, so drifting off to sleep throughout the day is a totally valid way for me to spend my days.
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| meh |
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