Back in the hospital again - severe infections...

I know that I posted earlier but I just found out that Patrick Swayze lost his battle today to stage IV Pancreatic Cancer. He was only 57 years old. I have been following his fight the entire 20 months and what a brave fight he faught. I remember clearly his interview with Barbara Walters as it seemed to give me strength while I was in the hospital just prior to my 5th and 6th Major Abdominal Surgery. While he filming "the Beast", he refused any painkillers because he felt it would have affected his performance. He seemed to know exactly how long he had and knew 5 years was a long shot with his illness and he would be pushing two years and he made it 20 months. My heart goes out to his family and friends.

Well, on with my battle as the watching and waiting became so much as the evening wore on. My husband and I knew in our hearts that this fever thing (even though we did get it down to normal and he was able to go to the local pub and watch some football on the big screens) with out any problems; I was OK for all those hours and then when he returned home; nausea just started setting in; actually it was slightly before he got home that I started to get where I was starting to get cold; once he got home the shaking continued but it wasn't so bad. Then I really started shivering and then I started shaking uncontrollably as if I were having convulsions and my teeth just kept chattering. I had absolutely no control over my body. I could barely speak or control my body (I couldn't believe it); it was so freaking scary and it scared the living hell out of him to see me this way. I was crying and apologizing to him for scaring him and that I had absolutely NO control over my body. It was aching and my tummy muscles were hurting like hell from all the shaking and convulsing; then my back on the right side (kidneys) starting pinching; where my stint had been placed.

It had taken less than an hour of him being home for all of this to happen. I was fine all that time but I was just starting the shakes just before he got home. The nausea set in and I was vomiting more of that yellow nasty burning shit that tasted so foul. I almost felt as if shit was actually coming out of my mouth. It was so horrible and miserable. I had to brush my teeth and rinse them immediately after each countless vomit; then the green shit came at around 2am. The fever got up to 103.5 at close to 3am when we both decided; it's 911 time. He gathered up Tonto and Blue Belle; Tonto tried to escape to Nick's but my honey grabbed him just in time. They both had to share the upstairs bathroom.

The EMS workers finally arrived less than 10 minutes later and one of them scolded my husband for not having a printed list of my medications. It really wasn't necessary because each time we go over those list of medications at the hospital. I told her most of them and tried to chill her out from being so mean to my husband. It always hurts me when someone is mean to him like that. I told her; "he takes such good care of me and I am a nearly 7 year survivor of one of the most deadly female cancers (it's advanced I told her) and if were not for him; you wouldn't have to worry about coming to get me. Thankfully he is the knight in shining armor that he is and please do NOT be mean to him; he's awesome." I also told her that we got married just 2 days before my first chemo treatment and I do hope she felt bad for blowing up at him the way that she did. I told her; it would be impossible for us to come up with a complete list of my medications because they change so much and that Kaiser has it covered with Medical Records. I also told her about the pain medications and everything that I had taken in the last 24 hours. I did take a few doses of liquid morphine throughout the day to manage the pain and then I just couldn't handle the taste so I smoked a joint which really helped me. Yes, I was honest about my cannabis use. I think her attitude changed a little bit once she got to know our history and to not yell at my husband for not already having a list of medications that I'm on already printed up for her. I've never had an EMS worker ever do that do us. They usually just ask what medications I'm on; not require that we had a printed up sheet?

We finally got to the hospital and they took my temperature and it took a really, really long time like a while minute and half for the temperature to stop going up. It finally settled at 104.7. My neck was hurting from having to sit up for so long to get my temperature taken. I was like "come on already". It was the slowest reading ever but my temperature just climbed and climbed and climbed. I was shaking like crazy and convulsing but once they gave me some Tylenol (it was 45 minutes later; I was sweating like crazy. My shirt was soaking wet and then the shivering started again. It was like an endless cycle all night long of getting my temperature down and then it skyrocketing back up again.

I know I'm looking pretty rough in this photo with my dirty icky hair and no make-up; I have worn any in days and somehow my honey still finds me attractive. I wonder why so many times and yet he is by far the hottest man on the planet. Yes this was taken today in my room by me with my iPhone.

Well to get back to what has happened to me these past couple of days. I had to wait in the ER from 3am until after 3pm to get my room. For some reason the doctor had forgotten to approve (another step in the computer) my admission; she had entered it in the system but never approved it so I was waiting and waiting and waiting and the whole time I'm getting these fevers and just sweating my ass off. I did get to sleep some but the shaking and convulsing kept coming and going and of course this would cause me great pain in my abdomen. The nurses were great about providing me with medication as needed. When I finally got to my room I had the most wonderful nurses (the 2nd floor is the very best) where they all knew me quite well. They were happy to see me but sad to see that I was back again.

Murial was the best and very attentive to my needs; she made sure I had everything I needed; she was so beautiful and could have easily been a movie star but for me she was a star nurse. I love great nurses like that; they are like one in a million. There were other great nurses too who stopped in to see how I was doing and had been inspired by my fighting spirit. I will beat this disease and I have so much to fight for and to live for.

I was able to get my TPN bag removed earlier that morning and then we had it set that my husband would bring me a fresh bag of food to hook that evening. They wanted to keep me hooked up to that bag of food; an entire pole full of bags and so much more for 24 hours! I was furious that they wanted to do this and my husband told the nurse there is no way they would be able to do this or they would chance ruining my picc line or blocking it. To me to that just seems so lazy to not change my bag when it's obviously empty? I'm not going to let that happen; we are going on with the 10 hour feedings tonight. Well it turned out that my picc lines were not drawing any blood or they were unable to draw from either of the lines; they were still working and have been for over the last month for chemo and daily feedings. I was scared they were going to try to get another picc line inserted in my left arm. I just didn't want to chance it and it worried me so much that they would insist that my picc lines were not working even though they were. The nurse had tried to tell me that the picc lines normally are not working if you can draw any blood from them.

Last night I skipped my feedings because the nurses were using some sort of a solution to unclog the picc lines; it was worrying me more and more that they were unable to draw blood from either of them. Then this morning the picc line nurse who had inserted my picc line came in to see me this morning and had no trouble at all drawing blood from either of the lines. Apparently their (the other nurses) techniques of drawing blood from the picc line were incorrect. You apparently have to flush the line with a PUSH-PAUSE motion. I didn't understand what she meant but I could tell that these other nurses were not using her technique. I told this nurse that maybe she should train the others nurses on how to properly draw blood or flush a picc line properly. In ER they are so dammed scared of picc lines and do not want to even touch them. Instead my poor (1 and only vein) got brutalized with an IV line. I didn't understand why it was so crooked on my arm and it ached anytime anything was flushed into it including just the fluids.

Since my honey wasn't able to come back last night; we Skyped and I got to watch Blue Belle and Tonto eat snacks in front of me. It was cute how Tonto would use his big paw to secure my husband's hand while eating out of it. He would swipe and swipe to get a treat and then I got to see both of them in the kitchen chilling out and drinking water. They both got to play in the rain a little bit and of course Tonto's huge feet got tracks all over the place. He's a messy boy.

I do remember getting quite a scary rude awaking at 4am this morning when I was sound asleep. It scared the living crap out me; no seriously still battling severe, severe diarrhea from all the antibiotics that I'm on. Anyway, I was sound asleep; just hit REM mode and my arm left arm was jerked so hard it woke me up, and then this rubber band tightly would around my left arm and then a hard stick in my hand. It was like my appendage did not belong to me and it was going to be ripped off at any moment.

This small overweight Chinese woman was standing right over my bed trying to stick me with a needle to get blood samples with out asking for my permission or anything. She had the harshest look on her face as she viewed me as simply an object and not a human being; I was apparently the human pin cushion to her; only I wasn't a living breathing being to her. I felt like asking her if she had any manners what so ever? I was so tired and sleepy and also very shocked and appalled that this had happened. I was very pissed that I didn't say a thing to her about what she had done; there was no communication what so ever; just grab my arm, tightly bound it, and stick me several times until she got my vein. I was pissed off at her. I was able to tell the head nurse about the situation and that I am scared to go to sleep for fear of this happening again. I don't wish to awoken in that way ever! Now cute licks from this little lady would have been a preferable way to wake up!

Anyway I did get to talk to my doctor and we are working out a plan when I first find out that I am having bladder or UTI issues to take (I think it is Septra) an antibiotic for 7 days straight when the infection first occurs. I am not to wait. I also had to have 3 units of blood today and am currently on the second one. I've been on lots of antibiotics actually starting when I was in ER. They had done a urine culture and found the raging UTI so they put me on Cipro and now I'm on a couple of antibiotics which have been making me shit like crazy and to me that is a good thing. My honey brought me some real toilet paper when I finally got my room so I don't have to bother which the fiber glass toilet paper that is actually put on the roll under rather than over. You have to reach far inside the enclosure and then if you are lucky, you might get one square. Not sure why toilet paper in a hospital must be this way; I feel so sorry for the older people who have to deal with this. My ass would be burned in the worst way had my honey not brought that toilet paper. Now that's love! He also brought over all of toiletries.

He came by today and brought me some fresh clothes and plenty of panties and pads for my overactive bladder and some more movies to watch. He took the day off since he was so tired from sitting most of the night in ER and stressing over me. I am blessed to have the most amazing man on the planet and am thankful for everyday and moment I get to spend with him. I live each day for those moments and will continue do so. He makes this fight worth fighting everyday and I look forward to many more days, months, and years with him.

Anyway, I'm going to do some more healing and try my best to be out of here hopefully by Wednesday; the fevers must go before I can leave. I think I need a whole 24 hours without a fever.