Friday, August 27, 2010

hospital insomnia

Well it is 5am and I have yet to fall asleep. Scott on the other hand has gathered chairs, a few pillows and a blanket for a makeshift bed. Apparently it is comfortable because he has been snoring like a bear in hibernation. Isolation isn't so bad, I have my own room and because I was admitted for my low counts and not pain my hospital stay is much different than after surgery. And my port is getting used to the full potential--definitely worth the scary insert.

Isolation means that staff entering my room wear a gown, gloves, mask the whole bit. Except my nurse, who seems to haphazardly follow precautions. She is dressed to the 't' when she is in direct contact (blood draw, giving me meds) but when coming in to do things where she isn't talking to me (pillow cases, bring water) the precautions seem to fall to the way-side. But she is amazing and brings me an endless supply of grahm crackers and applesauce so she is alright in my book. Plus, when I was in the ER, even after my counts were known I didn't go into isolation--I am not too worried. And I have been a bit obnoxious, not on purpose, but the call button cord was stuck on the bed so every time I moved, adjusted the bed or anything really it would page a nurse---this happened for a few hours before it was discovered to be rogue.

My mouth is so dry that not only is my tongue raw and sticks to the top of my mouth, but my cheeks, and lips are involved and stuck together--like flypaper all crumpled up. I haven't been able to get any sleep, despite the array of medications I have been given. I don't feel exhausted so I assume it is left over adrenaline of some sort from being panicky when we came into the ER and I was having trouble breathing--I haven't been able to relax since. I am just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And I have only been given the "head tilt" 26 year old, you poor young lady with breast cancer look. I did surprise a tech when he was putting the stickies on my chest to keep track of my heart. Moving down a gown and seeing my yaybies definitely wasn't what he was expecting--his facial expression was priceless. But hell, I probably would do the same thing: no harm, no foul.

There is nothing else to report really--insomnia, low counts, supportive nursing staff, scott the hibernating bear and that we will meet with oncology in the morning to figure out the next steps, which most likely involve me staying in the hospital awhile and a shit-pot full of antibiotics (I already have had a lot).

I am very thankful that I don't have an infection at this point. That would be very scary territory with my counts the way they are. Last lab work showed my white blood cell count at 1.8 (normal range 4-11) and my ANC at 325. We don't yet know if they continued to drop since those labs were taken almost 12 hours ago but are crossing our fingers they have stayed the same.

While I have been typing this Scott has decided that his makeshift bed is no longer comfortable and has put a chair at both sides of my bed near my feet and is laying across them using my bed as the new middle chair with my feet resting on his back. Hilarious, but I am annoyed because I know he will probably fall asleep by the time I click "publish post".


  1. Love you, Dori! I hope you can get some rest soon. Also hope that you are able to avoid any further complications. <3

  2. Love you and hope sleep comes to you soon. Thinking positive to have those white counts increase their numbers and nay to any nasty little microbes invading your space. <3

  3. Dori, I've been silently following your story, and I must say that first of all, you are an incredibly strong and courageous woman! Your outlook on this entire experience is amazing, and I applaud you a hundred times over. On another note, my thoughts and prayers are with you, and I wish you an amazing recovery AND SLEEP for a fast exit from the hospital. Stay strong and thank you for sharing your story.