Monday, April 21, 2008

Day Ten: I'm Okay

Friday, my last bag of chemo was hung and empty by Saturday morning.  But by Saturday morning I was already sliding into the post-chemotherapy ickiness.  Honestly, it wasn't as bad as I'd anticipated considering the list of terrifying side effects the doctor presented me initially, which including such charming numbers as mouth sores, rash, and extreme, debilitating throat pain.  Granted all of these tricks could yet emerge from the bag,  but for now the worst I've had to endure came this weekend.

On and off I spiked a fever  in the 100 degrees zone, even getting as high as 101 at one point.  Ordinarily, my body temp tends to run a little low, around 97.6 or so.  When I get a fever over 100, I feel like warmed horsedeath on  stick.  That's pretty much how my weekend went down: a lot of lying in bed, napping intermittently, feeling weak and puny and really warm.  It was a lot like having a bad case of the flu.

Because of my delicate condition, the doctors saw fit to run a nice little gamut of tests (blood, urine, chest x-ray) to make sure I wasn't actually suffering from an outside infection.  They ran these tests, not once but twice, and I had to get poked twice  for my troubles.  Turned out more than likely, my body is simply responding to natural bacterias that we all have, except in my weakened white count state, my body was getting confused and panicking.  I like to think of it as the Zombie Warrior getting overzealous and taking out some civilians in her zombie-killin' rampage.  Ah, what's a little collateral damage when the greater good is at stake?

Hence, the reason for my lack of interwebbing and e-mailing and posting for the last few days.  I didn't feel up to anything but sleeping, reading, and receiving the occasional visitor.  In fact, in three days I read four books (All presents from my readership/Pajiba community; much obliged, pardners.).  I still have quite a formidable library to tear through; the biggest decision is now what to read next.
Today I've had a little more life in me.  I received a transfusion of platelets and another of blood.  We're waiting to see if I'll need more platelets as I've developed a charming new symptom since yesterday; every time I blow my nose I get of gore and snot.  Considering I've developed a bit of a head cold/allergy thing since arriving in the Big House, I've been blowing my nose a lot and now have this hybrid runny-bloody nose.  I've been instructed to not blow my nose for a couple of hours to see if a clot will form, banking on the assumption that every time I trumpet into a tissue, any clot that might have formed is being decimated.  Here I sit, sniffling, snorting, and dabbing gingerly  at my leaky, bloody nose like a white trash version of Satine from Moulin Rouge.  Yeah, I'm bringing the hotness.

Nurse just came and detached me from my IV for the first time since I came here.  What a weird feeling.  'Course at midnight I've got to be hooked back up.  But hell, just knowing I can go to the bathroom without lugging Cletus in there with me, even for a few hours, is worth it.

Thanks for all you readers out there sticking with me and following my progress, posting comments, and sending e-mails of support (I promise to reply to them SOMEday.).  And hey, captain steve, could you repost the URL about the action figures? I was a boob and accidentally deleted your comment.

Over and out from LeukemiaTown.


MelodyLane said...

Glad to hear that you are doing okay. I hope that you remain in on this path and am still thinking about you and sending good thoughts your way.

Kick some leukemia tail feathers!!

Shadows of Dakaron said...

We're thinking about you, Alabamapink! Kick this disease's ass!

Jason said...

Just reposting the link to the custom action figures.

Marissa said...

I recommend

Karen said...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Sorry I couldn't be there for the party today!

Ranylt said...


So, yeah, I'm the first to argue that words are powerful, persuasive, and magical in capable hands, but they sure fall down like wet noodles when it comes to actually making someone's physical symptoms cut out. I wish there was an abracadabra I could type here, Bama.

The only thing that helps me in ass times (stomach flu, public humiliation, whatever) is my wee mantra of "This too shall pass." And shitloads of DVD watching!


Rollerson said...

I second your recommendation, Ranylt, as that is my favorite rough times mantra, but may I recommend a little positive visualization to accompany it.

I suggest, Miss Alabamapink, that you picture the awesomely fun times that you are most definately going to have once you break out of that joint.

I'm sending sunny picnics in the park your way, and wishing you all the best.

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