I’m not referring to the famously busy fast-food chain in California, but the infamously busy hospital in The Woodlands. On Wednesday, the day of my last blog, I was feeling good overall after getting my Herceptin, and had been doing great for an entire week. By evening this all changed as I was feeling achey all over. As the day dragged on, a little achier, now chilling, and feeling increasingly tired. By 9:00 PM, all I could think of was crawling into bed and staying there for the rest of my life.
With a mild fever and advice of our doctor, I spent all day in bed Thursday. The fever kept going up (101.5) and down (99.1). It hurt to move and my arm felt like it weighed 100 pounds. The pain medication did help and I had a very nice reprieve for a few hours in the afternoon when our friend Melissa came to visit. Company provides a nice distraction. By this time I was feeling much better and I honestly thought I was on the mend. However, I found a hole in Drain Tube #2 late in the evening. I had already been advised the ER doesn’t know much about drain tubes, so I patched it up with a band-aid and we headed straight to the doctor first thing Friday morning.
Actually, I was dropped off at the doctor while Tim went to the airport to pick up our friend Cheryl who had by this time landed without knowledge of my current condition. We haven’t had much luck with timing of our friends lately. I was really looking forward to her visit, as Tim had planned to go out of town on business for the State. Plans can change in an instant when you are a cancer patient, and such was the case this weekend. One has to be flexible, so keep a positive attitude.
My doctor is out of town for the week, returning on Sunday. They got me in right away. I saw the nurse, nurse practitioner, my regular oncologist, and her nurse. It was a full room.
Interestingly enough, they weren’t all that concerned about the hole in my tube, which we now had difficulty locating. It reminded me of taking a flat tire to the shop and attempting to convince the mechanic that there was indeed a hole in there somewhere. “I’m sure it was there” but have fun finding it again. The suction was still there and apparently that’s all that mattered. To this end there was little concern or further time considered. They were gravely concerned, however, about the ongoing fever and the now noticeably red and hot section surrounding my drain tube spreading underneath my arm which — was not there the previous day.
It didn’t take long to decide to hospitalize me so I could get IV antibiotics for 2-4 days. “Are you sure we can’t go home with medicine?” we asked the nurse as she was about to access my port. “Oh no. We don’t want it to turn septic.” She said this with a shake of the head and an obvious shudder. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. I later looked it up, and in retrospect was sincerely grateful we avoided septic shock. This causes multiple organ problems and is known to be the 13th leading cause of death in the U.S.A. This explains Dr. Gordley’s decision to change the orders. He put me on several different types of antibiotics, to attack both gram-positive and gram-negative infections including MRSA.
The best case scenario would mean going home on Monday after a good response to the antibiotics. Even under the best case my weekend was ruined. “What’s the worst case scenario?” by this time Tim and Cheryl had joined us from the airport. “We would have to go back to surgery, open it up and clean it all out.” Now I was shuddering. I was praying for the best case scenario, and so were all my friends.
Katie (PA) did share the pathology report with me while we were waiting for admit orders. It was good news, which I will share in a separate blog. Then she drew on my skin with s Sharpie, so we could follow the redness whether it grew or shrank.
Since Dr. Rourke was out of town, Dr. Gordley offered to be my attending physician. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving this to an internist on the floor, and I was glad to have him involved in this case. He came to see me every day.
The pain, as it turns out, is directly correlated with the infection. Once the infection is gone, the pain should go with it. Can you hear me applauding? That was very good news. The pain started out around a 3-4 on a 1-10 scale. It increased in intensity before starting to get better. The pain medication is really good, and does not seem to impede my reflexes (but I wouldn’t trust myself behind the wheel of a car). But it is a temporary fix. In the hospital, I learned, one must ask for the medication as they do not bring it unless you ask. At first I only remembered to ask when the medicine wore off. Imagine a sharp stabbing pain that comes out of no where, followed by a deep internal throbbing. Almost as quickly as it comes, it immediately dissipates. So I can say the pain is 7-8 on a 1-10 scale, for about 2 minutes out of every 2-3 hours. But most of the time I am completely pain-free.
Last night I had a hard time falling asleep. Perhaps it was in anticipation of going home, or the well-known fact that hospitals are not the best place to sleep, but suffice it to say I sleep better in my own bed. The first night it was a noisy pump with a constant click-click-click that I learned the next day was going out and needed to be replaced. Tossed and turned. Last night I had a whisper quiet pump, conditions were right, but I just couldn’t sleep. Bryan came to visit around 8:00 and it was great to see him! After that, I read the first three chapters of a “seriously funny” book by Bill Bryson titled A Walk in the Woods that nearly split my stitches, then I chatted with a friend who is camping in Mt. Vernon, and watched a movie. I finally fell asleep for a few hours in the wee hours of the morning in between vital checks, nurse checks, and today I feel pretty good.
So now it is Sunday and I am waiting for my doctor to come and discharge me. Tim just finished a podcast after our time of Scripture reading and prayer. Everything is set to go, if Dr. Gordley says it is ok for me to go. Wow, literally as I was typing this last sentence, Dr. Gordley walked in the room. He is pleased with how well the redness has gone down and he is sending me home. Yeah!!
À la prochaine (Until next time) …