|View from the clinic room, my home for the past 3 days.|
They pump you with bags of saline to protect your organs, so I looked like the ugliest day of edema in the 17th month of pregnancy. It was like being that soggy piece of bread at the bottom of your sink but with a killer hangover plus the flu and food poisoning. I puked. I had diarrhea. Whatever. My pride went out the window when they inserted the catheter, not to mention when they put a diaper on me. Truth? You want truth? There it is.
Every piece of my body hurt. Because I had no stem cells (or little) I had no strength. Lifting my head to throw up was a feat. Opening my eyes hurt. And yet I couldn't sleep because I was in so much pain and was so nauseated. So I was just there. In it. Seconds seemed like hours and there was nothing I could do. There was no escape. Hyperbole? Not even.
But before you go kill yourself on my behalf please know that I have turned a corner. Yesterday they gave me my stem cells back, also called Day 0. Otherwise known as my birthday. And while that made me feel a smidgen stronger and less achy, I was still throwing up.
And now we are here at Day +1. I am back in my hotel room, now in total isolation. I have drank a few glasses of water and eaten one half of a banana, so there's progress. I can open my eyes without moaning; I can walk; I can watch Real Housewives; I can pee. They took the catheter out.
The same people who say that each patient is different also say that I will feel better for a day or two, and then dip down again as my immune system plummets. So there we have it.
If I have not responded to your texts, emails, FB messages or anything else, please know that they are keeping me afloat. Especially those people who send me pics of my kids. :)
Onward and upward! (And then downward and upward again).