Skip to main content

All the scary things

Seeing as how it's Halloween, I feel obliged to tell you all the scary things that happened in the past 24 hours or so. Yesterday morning, I heard a commotion down the hall, followed by a horde of what seemed to be zombies wandering through the halls. They weren't actually zombies of course. It was a bunch of people with bleach wipes bleaching down the whole unit. Sort of. I don't know what kind of training they got, but they seemed to be bleaching sort of random things. Random sections of walls, the arm rests of one chair but not another. One guy who came through my room did have a lot of trouble walking, so he really did remind me of a zombie. I wonder how he got stuck with this job.

Apparently, the nursing staff have been complaining for a while about the poor housekeeping, and a number of people (including me) have gotten c. diff while staying here. I tested positive again a few days ago after having diarrhea every time I sat down over a hole. I'm back on vancomycin, and it sounds like they're going to try a different tactic where I taper down on the antibiotic over about six weeks. Sounds like fun.

The next scary thing that happened was another blood transfusion. Ok, those aren't scary, but they remind me of vampires and thus remind me of Halloween.

The next thing that happened was a fever. Right on schedule. I started getting some chills a little while after the transfusion, and my temperature was about 102. So first, urine sample. Then I was told they actually wanted a "clean catch" so I had to wait to give another urine sample. Then the infectious disease team came in and asked me lots of questions and examined me closely. Including my butt. I'm glad I do such a good job of wiping. Nobody wants their doctor to see a dingleberry on a pop quiz.

The fever went up gradually, with dips in between. Around shift change at 8pm, my temperature was 101 or so. Then two hours later, it was 106. The last time my temperature was 106, I think I was watching tv with Brent, and I didn't really notice I had a fever at all. I felt pretty normal. This time I felt anything but normal. The whole night was a blur, with a lot of shivering and shaking and uncontrollable moaning. I went back and forth between feeling too hot and too cold. Probably because I kept falling asleep with an ice pack between my legs. Falling asleep with an ice pack on any part of your body is about as smart as falling asleep while sunbathing. My nurse would come in to talk to me and I think I was slurring my words. I asked for Tylenol. And when that didn't help fast enough, I asked for IV Tylenol. I was brought a cooling blanket. Based on my past experience with cooling blankets, I wasn't excited about that. But I sat directly on top of this one instead of having it under a sheet. And it had three parts. One for my legs, one that wrapped around my chest, and one that wrapped around my head. It was set to 68 degrees at first, which I thought would be way too cold, but it was actually pretty comfortable. Time seemed to move very slowly, but it had only been a couple hours. I fell asleep again and when I woke up I peeled off the cooling blanket and got under my regular blanket. For the next few hours I slept uncomfortably on a bed that felt wet with cold sweat, getting interrupted periodically to swallow some pill or other.

When I saw my nurse again at around 5am, she had horns on. And I remembered it was Halloween. And then I thought she must really like Halloween, because she must have packed up her horns the night before so in the morning, on the second part of her shift, she could put them on. I like Halloween too. And if I had my sloth onesie here I would be wearing it. Hmmm. Maybe I can be a chemo patient for Halloween instead. Or Uncle Fester.

Last night while I was fevering, the sneezing fits started. I reminded myself of my mom, who can sometimes sneeze 10 or 15 times in a row. I didn't get that far, maybe only 5 or 6. But that's pretty extreme for me. Now my face is a leaky faucet. Remember me talking about how cancer gets so much sympathy, but the common cold gets none of the sympathy it so justifiably deserves? Well now I have cancer and a cold. So logically speaking, I should be getting double the presents.

If you were eating tomato soup, and your nose was dripping everywhere, and you weren't sure if you accidentally dripped into your soup, would you still eat it?

I'm running out of things to take pictures of in my room, and I haven't left my room in three days. So here's one from better times.

Ok one more scary thing. Whenever I'm on chemo, my phone doesn't recognize my thumbprint. Does that just mean my skin is dry? Or is my thumbprint somehow fundamentally different? Would an ink print also look different? And if it did, does that mean chemo patients can get away with murder? Maybe murderers no longer need to burn off their fingerprints. Maybe they just need to get cancer, then have a round or two or chemotherapy.

Comments

  1. I found your fingerprint question intriguing, so I looked it up - and fingerprint loss due to chemo is totally a thing! It’s been written about in reputable places, and even a short item in Time: http://time.com/3823350/cancer-patients-fingerprints/

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hi Sarah,
    Hope you're starting to feel better from the chemo. Regarding the soup question...depends on how hungry I was:)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Nearly Final Farewell from Sarah's Parents

Dear Friends - We are deeply saddened that Sarah has entered the ending chapter of her battle with this horrific cancer. The medical experts expect only days left to live. It would really lift her spirits to read about memories you've shared with her and any other comments that you would like to offer. We look forward to hearing from you very soon, and we will read all comments out loud to her. Sarah is doing her best to be her usual spirited self in spite of these difficult times. We are grateful for everyone who has been a part of her remarkable life. Sarah's Mom and Dad

Guinea Pig

Today is day 4 of my first, and hopefully last, clinical trial. It's the first day I haven't had an appointment at the Sarah Cannon Colorado Blood Cancer Institute. I think it might be good luck that the institute and I share the same first name. CBCI is attached to Presbyterian St. Luke's, just a stone's throw from Denver's city park, where you would find the zoo and the museum of nature and science. Brent and I keep saying we'll go to the planetarium one of these days before or after one of my appointments, but it hasn't happened yet. The first day of the trial was long, over 12 hours. It started with an icy drive in, followed by a few unsuccessful attempts to draw my blood before resorting to another picc line. I then met with Dr. Maris, who gave me news I should have been expecting. The results of my testing from the previous week were in, and they didn't look awesome. My bone marrow biopsy showed that the leukemia was back up to 30%. Since my las

What in the hell happened?

Well, I planned to use this domain for some cool, nerdy dev stuff, but "Sarah Develops...Leukemia" kind of works too. I decided to at least try to start a blog to let people know what's going on because I'd like to be in touch with everyone but I'm sure pretty soon I just won't have the energy to tell everyone everything separately. So, how did I get to be laying in a bed on the 5th floor of the Denver VA hospital? I got my first headache on July 15th, just over a month ago now. Brent and I and Pisco went on a long hike in Golden Gate Canyon State Park. All the wildflowers were out, and we saw a moose (my first Colorado moose sighting ever). It was a pretty ideal day. I drove home, parked the car, walked into the house, and was suddenly hit by a pounding stop-you-in-your-tracks kind of headache. I learned later that it was a thunderclap headache, and I started getting them every few days. Then they became more frequent. I took ibuprofen to keep the headac