Where I've been

Its 2 am and the security guard is planted outside of my room, near the door of the room next to mine. The shrieking is coming from the room next door, and I'm instantly brought back to my days working psych. 

Since the hospital is full, as in no beds available anywhere, room 7 of the emergency room is my "hospital" room as long as I need it.  

Superman flew me in about 7 that evening.  Thankfully, with patients lining the corridor, the walls, the chairs all filled, I am ushered into a locked "family" waiting room which is empty.  With the likelihood that I have little to no immune system, Sanford now allows chemo patients to wait separately from the rest of the contagious patients. I think its brilliant that they have devised this plan and I am so very grateful.

While Rick watches a streamed show on his phone, I curl up in the corner, trying to rest my distended and cramping stomach.  The bouts of diarrhea have increased, and I suddenly started vomiting Easter evening.  I can't keep anything down, and its fluids that I seek.  

While dropping the Taxol from my chemo regimen, we also increased my dose of the Perjeta and I think I am having increased side effects because of this.

Its two hours later that we are ushered back into room 7.  While my port is accessed, and labs drawn, I'm soon hooked up to iv fluids.

My ER doctor makes a hasty entry, apologizing for the long wait.  He wants to x-ray my sore and swollen stomach, check my urine, and wait for the blood work.  

With the sheer amount of patients to be seen, we settle in for a long night.

While we check off test after test, with nothing obvious making itself known, we think I'll be released soon, having been given 2 bags of fluids.

But then that one last test pops up in the doctor's orders- stool sample.  

At least this will be an "easy" sample to provide- and I shake my head at how I now find this quite humorous. 

Even though I've just had my stools checked 3 weeks ago and they were fine, it can't hurt to check this off the list too.

An hour later,  Dr. G comes striding back into my room.  But this time he crouches down next to my bed.  "I'm really sorry to tell you, you've tested positive for Clostridium difficile- or more commonly referred to as C-diff. 

He warns me that it can literally infect my colon to the extent they would have to surgically remove it or people go septic, and can die from it.  But he also assures me that even though he'll be gone, if I get worse in any way, to come right in and his colleagues will take care of me.

(Plus, I know I have Dr. P.) 

We'll start with a 14 day supply of Flagyl, known for leaving a metallic taste in you mouth. But there are two more drugs to try as second and third line treatments.  And I also know of one other treatment, that I'll keep to myself- because, ewww... and thats all I'll say for now.

With that, the doctor bids me well, and hastily jaunts off again.

Its nearly dawn, and Rick and I wheel past an almost empty waiting room.  Security is present again, working with what appears to be an inebriated woman, clearly needing some assistance.  

A smile plays at the corners of my mouth, again, as I step into the chilly early morning air.

I lost most of yesterday to sleep.

This morning, I turn to my Jesus Calling,  knowing it'll somehow speak to my weary soul... 

"I am taking care of you.  Trust Me at all times.  Trust Me in all circumstances.  Trust Me with all your heart.  When you are weary and everything seems to be going wrong, you can still utter these four words:  I trust You, Jesus."  By doing so, you release matters into My control, and you fall back into the security of My everlasting arms."  

Amen!

 My house has been filled with such an abundance of gifts and messages - they delight and fill me so. I've wanted to share them for so long- here are just a few.  Thank you to all of you who continue to flood my mail box, my doorstep, my email - and offer encouragement everywhere I turn.  

With deep gratitude- thank you! 

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