My hospital room window faces the west hills. They’re gorgeous early in the mornings–houses dotted among the green trees with little splashes of fall color. Smoky clouds above getting lighter with a bluer and bluer background as the sun comes up.
I have had a lot of nice views out of hospital rooms, though I’d much prefer these views were from hotel rooms where I would go sight-seeing and people watching without a care in the world.
The bruise was only stage one.
Wednesday night, symptom after symptom hit, then continued to hit for the next several days with new ones added, like the dreaded fever. I got weaker and weaker, could drink less and less, couldn’t really eat anything, was in immense pain, and couldn’t stop my symptoms.
My great primary care doc talked me into going to the ER (i hate the ER). But it was good advice and they have treated me well at Good Samaritan.
Turns out, I have febrile neutropinia (this means your immune system is super super dangerously low) and they’re trying to discover if I caught anything while my system was so low that would explain how sick I am, besides chemo side effects, of course. (chemo side effects just weren’t enough!)
They’ve been able to make me more comfortable and things had gotten so bad I didn’t say no to a single drug. I feel more stable this morning so hopefully I won’t need so many cocktails today. I’m so sensitive to drugs it’s non-stop hallucinations. The situation has to be dire to be willing to live in the carnival side of Bridget’s brain ,even briefly.
Yesterday I got blood for the first time in my life. It is really freaky watching that dark red liquid flowing down in a tube.
I’m quarantined in here and people have to wear masks to come in the room to keep me from catching anything new and lots of protective gear before they come near me. No flowers allowed even.
No answers yet, but the doc this morning tells me that my white and red blood cell counts are creeping up and feels sure that tomorrow I will get to see people without face masks on.
I’m on the upturn.
I hope!
Love to you all,
Bridget
Love you, Bridgie! I’m sure they gave you some superhuman blood. You’ll probably be like Spiderman (or woman in your case). Perfect timing for Halloween. Better start working on your costume! Go kick some cancer ass!
I hope you get to see lots and lots of unmasked faces tomorrow! Sending you bundles of love!
I’m sorry to hear you’re so sick. I hope all those nasty drugs do their job and make things better.
Go, Bridget! You are so strong. Quite heroic. But if the drugs help, take them! Whatever works. And as long as we’re talking Halloween costumes, you’d steal the show as Wonder Woman.
You go, girl. I’m sending all good energy your way.
Glad you’re on the upturn. Let’s hear it for blood donors!
Love to you back,
Amy
Keep up the fight. I’m sending you many, many good vibes!
Natalie
Go blood cell counts, GO!!!
Stay strong Bridget – lots of good, healing thoughts sent your way!
I can’t wait until I get to be a blood donor again. I’m type O, so very popular. Praying for your quick recovery.
XO
April
Here’s to unmasked faces and clear scans. You rock, Bridget.
If you need blood I have it…O Negative. Sending prayers of healing and love. Hang in there.
oxox
JOne
Oh no – so sorry to hear you’re stuck in the hospital. Sounds like it’s where you need to be right now though. Here’s to unmasked faces in the morning. We’re thinking of you tonight.
Cailin & Nicolai
Positive energy and prayers going your way – stay strong!
I think of you so often! I love the idea that you’re looking out into the world and look forward to the day you write that you’re back out in it!
xxAnn
Hi Bridget,
Hang in there, girl. You WILL weather through this tough time and pull through. Be strong! Our hearts are with you, sweetie.
Thinking of you Bridget — get strong, get better, get well!
Karen
Here’s a bundle of love and strengthening wishes for you.
E.
Go away, febrile neutropinia, no one likes you.
Hope you are UNMASKED soon, Wonder Woman.
xo
Thinking of you! You don’t know me, but I’ve followed you from the beginning of this difficult, and painful attack. You are amazing! Hang in there. I have such good thoughts for your recovery!
I’m sending my girls out to see you soon.