I thought I was through the worst of it! Then last Wednesday my counts were very low. My doctor prescribed an antibiotic and recommended I be careful. (That means get the medicene, wear a mask, don't eat raw food, go home if you can.) I left his office and went straight to work thinking I would pick up the antibiotic on the way home.
When I got home I wasn't feeling well, (big surprise) so I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed.
The next morning my counts were so low that most of them would not register on the computer. To top it off I had begun to run a low grade fever. My doctor was not happy to find out I had not bothered to follow his advice.
He immediately sent me to the chemo room where they quarantined me, hooked me to an iv and began antibiotics. My fever continued to slowly rise during the day and in the midafternoon it reached over 100.
At 3:00 he decided to put me in the hospital until my counts were up. They ordered a bed, I packed a bag and Mark came home to take me. I alerted friends and family and people began to pray.
Mark had been home about 30 minutes when my doctor called back. They spoke togther and for some reason Dr. Kahn agreed to let me stay home and see if I could get through the night. (I think that was because of prayer!) I began to take meds to keep the fever low and made it through the night. The next two days I was watched very closely and had to return for more IV antibiotics. My numbers finally rebounded on Saturday.
It's been a week today and I still have not regained my strength. My legs are weak and my body is tired. I feel like a balloon that's had the air let out of it. All that strength I had gained seems to have evaporated. I am weary in every way - spiritually, emotionally and physically. Several additional things happened over the weekend that are private, but reminded me that I have been pretty much listening to counsel, but only doing the parts I want to do. I am under conviction and trying to figure out how to adjust.
Ever thought about just quitting? I've never thought of myself as a quitter, but right now in this seaosn, I realize that if I could jump ship from illness - I would. The thought of relief from the consequences is a huge temptation. Obviously, I'm not quitting - because I can't! Even if I could, I don't think I would. But I do feel a little "lost at sea." I've begun to wonder if my efforts are really moving me any closer to my destination. I am alone in the boat and drifting.
I need to consult my compass and reset my sails so that I can go on to the other side again. As soon as I have the strength, I'll get up and do that....