Sorry about the lack of posts lately, for I am sick again. My right gland in my neck became swollen and sore. And on Friday night my in-home-nurse came to change my dressing on my PICC line. He felt my skin and immediately took my temperature. I had a high fever. I secretly knew something was wrong but was perfectly comfortable in my state of denial and inability to get out of bed. He told me, I had to go in. Then I remembered one of the Infectious Disease Docs so kindly gave me her cell #. We called her, she said I had to go in.
When I arrived at the ER my fever had broke and I had no temperature. I was placed on a very uncomfortable bed for 5 hours in the hallway of the ER before I was taken for observation. The hospital was very crowded a lot of the floors had no empty beds. In ECU where they took me the only room that was empty was a cement square room that had a bolt lock on the door, which had a small square window with blinds on the outside. The bolt lock, locked only from the outside. "Is this where you take patients who are prisoners", I asked. "No, no", they awkwardly replied. Before I fell asleep a girl came to draw more blood and told me this is where violent patients are kept, and from that moment on my imagination ran wild about what had happened in that very room in the past. The room had no heater, and my fever never spiked but was consistently low, so I was cold in a very cold room. They drew cultures which take 3 days to determine if there are any new bugs in my system. Since my fever didn't spike I was positive it was connected to my swollen gland and it was viral. I was miraculously released the next morning.
On arriving home I put my heating blanket on the highest setting and laid under it for almost 4 hours before I was able to finally get warm. I turned it off and took a nap. When I woke I took my temperature and it was 102.3 deg. "Okay, if I'm still feverish tomorrow then I give up all hopes of it being viral", I've thought to myself. It's tomorrow, and another fever is about to break right now. I probably should go back to the hospital. I can't bring myself to do it, not yet. There are no Doctors there on the weekends or at least very little of them and + Monday is a holiday. I'm rationalizing that what I'm doing at home is what I'd be doing there anyways...laying under blankets in bed waiting for the results of the cultures to come back. Am I surprised this is happening again? Yes! I'm still doing very strong IV antibiotics at home, what on earth is wrong with me now?!? I cry at the thought of having to leave my family again and go back. I HATE not being in control of my own body. If I want a drink a water,,,,I want a drink of water, if I'm cold I put a blanket on etc. I dread the thought of eating hospital food. My bones are healing nicely. Everyday, it gets easier and easier to do normal, everyday tasks. I went to my first outpatient physical therapy appointment. I could tell my therapist was blown away and didn't know quite where to start with me due to the extent of my injuries, but it went well. I LOVED IT! I haven't been able to do physical therapy in 3 weeks, he couldn't believe how well I was getting around. It felt amazing to move again. My bone injuries feel so much better that sometimes I forget they ever happened and that I could just get up and walk into the kitchen without my walker. Running again doesn't feel impossibly distant anymore.
What's my body fighting now? I want so badly to move forward and to stay home. I don't want to be exposed to more radiation. I've done what I was supposed to. My heart breaks for Colum. I don't want to leave my family.
I decided to look up the meaning of Colum again, because I shamefully had forgotten. It means Dove. My little Dove, Colum. It fits him with his soft blonde hair. We cut his hair only for the 2nd time just days before the accident. I cut my boys hair myself. One of my sisters asked if I'd seen the hair we saved. I'd forgotten we'd saved it! There isn't much, but I've been running it through my fingers the last couple days. It's so soft. My little Dove, I miss you. Help me be strong for I am getting weak.