Yesterday I woke up in the morning and I didn't feel good. I felt sick. I went to Mom and Dad's room and took a nap in their bed with Baby. When I woke up again, I still didn't feel good. When I took my temperature it was 38.7 degrees Celsius, a fever. So Mom went into busy mode and we were on the road to the hospital in an hour.
We went to clinic first to check in and all, my temperature was still 38.7. You can type that into the conversions thing here at Wold Wide Metric if you want to know what that is in Fahrenheit. We had my blood cultures and labs taken there. I got tested for everything. They had to take my snot to test me for the Swine Flu, so Mom was trying to make me cry. She told me that she ran over the neighbors dog (whom I like), and that our ancient neighbor who was going to baby sit my cheesecake for me was going to eat it, and any other stuff she could think of. I told her that I could do it myself and eventually was able to conjure up some snot without her help.
I went to the hospital and was feeling pretty good for a while, but when night time came I started to feel real awful. I was really cold and really tired. I had a whole bunch of blankets on me to warm me up, I was shaking, and I was out of breath and exhausted. I just felt terrible.
Mom took my temperature again and it had gone up to 40.5, which if you type into the conversion thing you will see that is 104.9. Which is really very extremely high especially for a bone marrow transplant patient. My nurse and my mom made me take Tylenol even though I didn't want to take it. I was a bit sassy and told them, "That Tylenol won't do me any good if I puke it up, now will it?" So Mom told me, "Miss E. that temperature is high enough to give you brain damage, if you don't take anything to help it go down you'll never get to be a doctor. Even if you puke some of it up you might have gotten enough in you to help with the fever." So of course then I had to take it, I couldn't risk loosing my career or my supreme genius.
My fever broke sometime early this morning. I think it broke in pieces, not all at once. Either way I feel a lot better now, I still don't feel good, but I don't feel horribly terribly awful.
My cultures came back this morning saying that I had E. Coli in my medi-port line. This was the suspected thing that happened last time I was in. Apparently if the line is infected it will keep coming back unless the line is taken out and replaced a few weeks later after the virus dies. So today I'm going to get surgery to get my port taken out. I'm going to get another line somewhere in my arm for my fluids every night. I'm really not looking forward to my arm line, I really don't like those at all. They hurt, ports and broviacs don't hurt once their accessed, but these "temporary lines" do. Not looking forward to it at all.
In other news, my cheesecake is supposed to be delivered today. Dad put a sign for the FedEx man to bring it across the street to our ancient neighbor's house, it needs to be refrigerated. My birthday is in only 5 days. I'm very excited, but I don't know if I'm still going to get to have my party, but we are still hoping to be home.
Also, Hawkman got sent home, but he's back now in the ER downstairs. So please pray for him too.
Love, Miss E.