I'm not sure why I've waited nearly a month to write in here, but here I am. A lot has happened in the past few weeks!
For one, I've been discharged. I'm not in remission though. I had a bone marrow aspiration (not a biopsy) done while I was still in the hospital, annnnd incredibly long and complicated story short, another bone marrow test needed to be done to determine what's happening with my cells and to see how well (if at all) the chemo worked. But my doctor sent me home in the meantime, because, as she said, "I needed a break." Boy did I ever! I've been home nearly a week now...well, as of Wednesday it will be. On Friday I went in for a blood test and got another bone marrow test done; hopefully, that one will be able to give my doctors a better idea of what's going on with the cancer and all that, so we can figure out what steps to take next.
For now I'm an out-patient and will be going to see my original oncologist (at the same hospital) once a week, on Fridays, for check-ups and blood tests.
I have to go back tomorrow though to get the dressing on my PICC line changed. They couldn't do it for me on Friday (another long and complicated story...a rather frustrating one at that, too) so I have to make a special trip just for that tomorrow. Quite annoying. PICC lines are not fun to take care of, and that's an understatement. They certainly make showering quite a hassle.
Another thing that's happened recently is that one of my roommates died. Roomie number 3, to be exact. I feel a bit tacky referring to her as such, but I also don't want to name names on my blog either, because that feels even worse somehow. Anyway (speaking of showers), I was taking a shower last Monday (this was when I was still at the hospital) and that horrible Code Blue alarm went off, which is so loud you can hear it even when you're showering. I heard my floor/ward mentioned on the alarm and I was shocked! When I got out of the shower and walked back to my room, I passed by my old room, which is where the Code was happening. There must have been about 15-20 nurses and doctors spilling out of the room where my former roommate was. I had never seen anything like it.
I found out last night that she died that day, and I've been thinking about it a lot. My mind is all jumbled and weird. I have a lot of questions about all of this that will never get answered, but that's just how it is, huh. She was 36 and boy did she have a huge family and friends network that was constantly in her room. She's going to be missed by like a zillion people. And her kids! She had 2 kids. I've been learning a bit more about her by googling her but I can't find any social media. Anyway, 36 years old! She was so young. I keep thinking about both of us being in the same hospital and sharing the same bathroom and walking the same halls and having the same fears, but I went home and she died. Not that I'm out of the woods yet (by any means), but for now, that's how it is. It's just fucked-up and it's a lot to process. It doesn't make any sense and I know that expecting anything to make sense when it comes to cancer is kind of an entitled attitude to have, but I still think it's pretty fucked.
RIP.
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