Crack In My Diagnosis Pt 1

I realize people aren't perfect. As often as I'm seeing doctors now, you'd know that not every diagnosis is going to be correct. I just didn't think so many doctors would be wrong about the same thing though. No, no, no, no, no, I still have cancer! But I am getting ahead of myself. You have to read my entire hospital story to find out what I'm talking about...

Friday April 10, 2009

2am I hear this: Mommmmmmmmy! I need you! I don't feel good!

It was Jacob and he had managed to throw up all over the bathroom. Unfortunately, he did it the same day my white blood cell count bottomed out. I hated it, but I had to stay away from my sick little man. Tom had to get up and clean the bathroom and take care of my baby boy. Oddly, I never heard any bathroom cleaning going on. I got up to see if we had gotten a self cleaning bathroom at some point - and...NOPE!

I trod downstairs and question Tom about when he might get around to cleaning the vomit that covered the bathroom door, floor, toilet, and wall. Tom said he had asked Jacob if he made it to the bathroom ok and Jacob said he had. Well, yeah, I guess technically he did - but just not into the toilet ok. To his credit, Tom did a fairly good job cleaning (I checked) he just forgot the bathroom door - so I thought it wouldn't hurt if I washed that up quickly myself before I crawled back in bed. I did wash my hands after I was done.

I'd been feeling ok all day. My only issue was the pain in my stupid butt. I had called Dr Young and told her I just couldn't take it anymore. The pain meds weren't working, nor were the creams. I needed something stronger for my fissure! She wrote me a script for morphine. 9pm I was throwing up. I wasn't sure if at first if I was sick because of the morphine or if I had caught Jacob's stomach virus. The worse I felt, the more I was sure it wasn't the pain pills...I was sick. My temp would never get above 100 degrees, but I called my doctor anyway and explained the situation. She told me to go to the ER and get checked - just to be safe.

You know you're a mess when you get to the hospital and are known by every ER nurse on duty. My favorite nurse Jen came out of the ER to get me when she saw my name. I love her. She's the one that was too scared to use my port - therefore was made fun of by another nurse when she put an IV in my arm. This time Jen wasn't going to be so lucky. My other favorite nurse was there that night too...Jason. Jason was a wonder-nurse with ports. He decided he would teach Jen how to prick a port. Jen reads my blog. (special secret message just to Jen: IT'S OK! NO ONE IS PERFECT! I'VE NO IDEA WHAT WENT WRONG, BUT YOU'VE GOT TO STOP APOLOGIZING AND FEELING BAD...SERIOUSLY!)

Any-o-hoo, the IV got started in my port after a couple efforts and in walked my ER doctor. The first thing you'd notice about my doctor was the insane amount of product the boy (yes, boy) used in his hair...the second thing you'd notice is that his name badge didn't say Doogie Howser - but it should have. He took the most thorough medical history of any doctor I've ever had. In. My. Life. But he wanted to make sure you remember he was very smart and a doctor. Example:

Doogie Howser: I'm your very smart and handsomely coiffed doctor today (flashes smile to prove almost all his adult teeth have grown in). I'm going to ask you 500 questions even though the answers are right here in my chart, mmmk?
Me: Sounds like a hoot.
DH: Let's get started, Mrs Strickland. First...when was the last time you h.a.b.m.
Me: Huh?
DH: (sighs) Last time you had. a. bowel. movement.
Me: I threw up a little in my mouth the last time you spoke...does that count?
DH: Do you have a history of h.d.h.b.p.c.t.a.e.w.y.m.o.o.s.w.y.l?
Me: Huh?
DH: (sighs and rolls eyes in disbelief that he would have to spell it out) You know... history of heart disease, high blood pressure, cruelty to animals, eating with your mouth open, or snorting when you laugh?

Somehow we made it through the questions without me walloping him (I was not in a great mood.) He ordered every lab known to man and left. When he returned he looked nervous and no longer sure of himself. He told me my white blood cell count was low - in fact he'd never seen anyone's so low before. Wow, none of his three total previous patients had low white blood cell count. Amazing. He genuinely had no idea how to treat a cancer patient. I made him extremely nervous. So what does a doctor do when he gets nervous? He admits you into the hospital. And that's just what Doogie did!

Because I have to have a special germ free room, I couldn't go right upstairs. My room had to be made ready for me and that was going to take a few hours. I was exhausted and so was Tom. My wonderful nurses were going to put Tom in his own little room in the ER and let him sleep while we waited, but he refused. They were kind enough to switch me from one of the little ER beds to a normal hospital bed so I could sleep comfortably while I waited. See why I loved these nurses?

8am my room was finally ready. I had no idea when they wheeled me upstairs I was going to be in the hospital for an entire week. I missed Easter with my family. It was a truly rough week. Part 2 tomorrow...