A week ago I headed off to my twice-a-week appointment for a lab draw, not a care in the world, but apparently I was running a fever. I was “isolated” in a separate room at the clinic, waited for quite a while (I’d arrived at 7:30 for my labs but waited until 2pm for anything to happen in my isolation room) and found myself absolutely exhausted.
Finally they sent me over to the U of M Hospital for a COVID test and I was admitted to await the results. More hours passed, and just before I fell asleep for the night I was told my test was negative – YAY!
I figured I’d be going home, but not so fast. I was told the fever, which kept bouncing between 97.5 to 100.5, when viewed through the lens of my neutropenic state (very low white blood cell count) meant that I needed to stay in the hospital. So I did.
Every day I was at the hospital they moved me to a new room. Sometimes because a different department had taken over my case, sometimes because they needed the extra bed in my room for a new patient (and moved me to a single) but I felt like I was visiting Europe on a budget and staying at a different hostel each night.
I was just about ready to pack it in and just leave when they FINALLY said, “Hey, you look pretty good? How do you feel?” I told them I felt pretty good, just like I had every time they asked. But this time they heard me, and I was finally admonished to call if anything felt funny or ‘not good’, but they let me go home!
It was such an unexpected and whirlwind trip, it left me breathless, and more than a little exhausted! But it was exceptional to be back home, I will never take home for granted again.
I know I’m improving every day, I can feel it – I can SEE it in the amount I’m able to do! But, as is usual for me, it’s not fast enough. Which is silly, because my recovery is exactly at the right speed for me. I need to just relax and enjoy the pace my body’s set for itself.
While I was at the hospital it seemed that time stood still. The truth is, I was just worn out. Any time they gave me more than 10 minutes between nurses visits to check my vitals, I was fast asleep. It crossed my mind to go onto FaceBook and post, but sleeping just seemed a much better idea. Ditto with blogging; I was too busy counting sheep. Once I got home on Monday, all I could think about was my bed. I don’t remember being this exhausted after previous chemos, but expending the mental energy it takes at the hospital as enough to wipe me out for days.
So what’s been going on with you? I’m heading back to bed right now for an afternoon nap…