Day +1

So last night and today were difficult to say the least. My mom was doing well last night until about 2am. She started getting a bit nauseated and weak and was unable to sleep. The nurses come in once to twice an hour ALL day and night to check vitals and run fluids/antibiotics. The creaking and movement on this floor adds to the "never able to rest" issue. It definitely wore on me today. This morning the team of oncologists came in lead by Dr. V at around 7. They just looked her over, went through her bloodwork, and told us to hang in there. Her blood levels haven't dropped too much, so there would be no need for a transfusion today. She said to expect one this Thursday, when things supposedly come crashing down (Day +3). The anticipation is draining for my mom, I can tell. I try not to talk about it too much, but we know it is there.

After the doctors left, I think we got a little sleep. Maybe an hour? Then we both woke up and decided to try some food. This turned out to be the worst idea of the day. My mom ate a tiny bite of eggs and a bite of banana. Then she swished her mouth out with some horribly flavored goo that is suppose to prevent mouth sores. Almost a minute later a wave of nausea, dizziness, and the shakes washed over her. I immediately ordered some anti-nausea meds, which the nurse administered in about 2 minutes. This helped relieve some of the nausea, but not the shakes. They checked her blood pressure which dropped. They attributed it to dehydration and hooked her up to some more fluids. She slowly began to feel better but just had absolutely no energy. She couldn't even lift her head. At this point I felt helpless. It's so hard to see someone you love so much suffer and there is nothing you can do. I really know that things will get better, it's just hard to see the end when it's begun so difficultly. I think the lack of sleep doesn't help.

I never want to complain, because I can't imagine a place I'd rather be right now. However, it helps to vent and chronicle this experience, so I will a little. First of all, the nurse staff is beyond competent and amazing. It is such a relief not to have to deal with worrying about her care when I'm tired and emotionally drained. The room on the other hand leaves a lot to be desired. I am sleeping on a bench similar to one you would find in a diner. The bathroom is way down the hall through two sets of double doors. It is pretty disgusting. I can't use my mom's because they measure everything. It's become a pain (as much water as I drink) to trek down the hall to pee! The room here doesn't seem as clean as a hospital should be either. It took them almost 24 hours to clean the blood spill from yesterday. Found that a little strange. It really grosses me out, because I'm such a neurotically clean person. Humans are so adaptable, I think you can get use to just about anything over time. Plus, they told us they have just completed 500 stem cell transplants since they've began, so I guess they know what they are doing.

This wing of the hopsital consists of about 10 rooms. Every room has the patient's day of treatment listed on the door. My mom is Day +1. Her neighbor is Day +8... oh how I wish we were there. Thinking about being here for at least 2 weeks is a bit overwhelming at this point. One patient went home today after Day +15 and the old man at Day +10 looks great as he trekked down the hall, IV bag in tow. My mom hasn't been able to move around the room too much. I am being a bit strict about making her do arm exercises in bed to counter her inactivity. She will get annoyed with me in 2 weeks, I'm certain.

Well, I hope for a better day tomorrow but am prepared for a bunch more hard ones. We are forging ahead, xing out each day of the calendar as we go.

Sleepy but determined,
Staci