I was released from the hospital on Friday and then re-admitted less than 24 hours later. I could not keep anything in my stomach including the pills that I need. I would just throw it all up.
BUT... Friday night we were able to celebrate Zane's birthday together as a family. Paul and Zane spent the night Friday and then went back home on Saturday. It was nice to be able to not be in the hospital around Zane for a bit. Even though I felt incredibly rotten.
So, I have been back in the hospital and it has been a baby step process for me to transition from IV antibiotics to oral antibiotics. Over the last couple of days we just try one at a time. My last one to try oral again was this morning. So far so good although I feel a bit nauseous.
My mucositis has kicked in big time although not actual soars (which is huge)! But my mouth constantly feels like a really dry port-o-let. No matter what I do, drink, eat or brush it always stays the same. This dry and yuck feeling flows all the way down to my stomach. My stomach can best be described as feeling like I have a small fire in there.
It seems to be a constant battle with my brain and stomach lately. This will last a while longer until my counts go up.
Today my platelets dropped to 10 so I had to have an infusion of blood platelets only. The other day I had had a blood transfusion of red blood cells. From what I hear, these will not be the only ones I will need till this is over.
So, we are heading back to the apartment today since I have kept all my meds down. This is a confusing decision really. A big part of me is nervous cause it didn't work out very well this last time. But on the other hand it will be nice to just veg out and not have someone taking my vitals every 4 hours.
Mom has been great!! A lot of pressure is on her to take care of me once at the apartment. It is crazy but she is not allowed to leave me. Which means that, for example, if we need some groceries she has to run and get them during my daily clinic hours or I have to go with her. Yes, they will let me go with her but as long as I wear a duck-bill mask. I have to wear one of those anytime I leave the hospital or apartment. She has to make sure the place is constantly wiped down. I have to have my own bathroom that no one else can use. Cooking meals is a lot of pressure when you are feeding someone with an immuno-suppressed diet. She also has to be always at the ready with a "clamp" of sorts JUST IN CASE something should happen or snag my catheter lines. Whew!
So between the two of us I think we are a bowl of bubbling nerves.
But we are doing it.