Third time, not a charm

Taking my chemotherapy, getting a raging infection, going septic within 8 hours, losing my grasp on reality, walking a fine line between life and death, then recovering in the hospital for a week has become part of my monthly routine since my first dose of bendamustine in March. 

Last week's episode occured just like the first two. I took my chemo dose, went home, fell asleep and awoke vomiting with a temperature. The difference was now I'm getting far too comfortable with this routine. I didn't fight losing myself and my sense of reality, going to the la-la land where I babble incoherently, but am painfree, this time. 

I fell into my spell as soon as I crawled onto the ER Gurney. I came to cognition after I'd been admitted to see three RNs fighting over me going to the ICU or Special Care Unit with a BP of 70/50. 

I say I "came to" in relative terms. I stayed in La la land for days this time, unable to tell the day or time but aware of my inability and the dire straights of my health.

I'd type only to realize I couldn't make sense of what I'd written or remember what I wanted to say. I didn't even try to answer the three orientation questions correctly. Getting up to shower on tues or weds took three people to assist me. 

Regaining consciousness was a gradual process where often I thought I was healthy, strong, or understanding but still fell asleep midsentence or misunderstood conversations. 

I hallucinated until weds, but knew enough to hide it. 

Even on Thurs when my cousin Steph came to visit, I thought I'd prepared my body to enjoy her company only to fall asleep as soon as she arrived.

Friday, after a week of antibiotics (zosyn) and satisfactorily protected from a possible attack, I finally got that pesky stent out of my kidney.

I no longer have any foreign objects inserted into my body minus my mediport. I'm also no longer constantly peeing blood like I have been for the past couple months, since the stent was inserted.

I was discharged Sat. in time to see X's baseball game, and again, immediately resumed our routine of having Carter spend the night and seeing a movie on our rainy Sunday. I'm feeling "good," again in relative terms.

I opened my mail to see my next infusion is scheduled for 9:30 am, I assume so I can be infused as an outpatient in the clinic and be observed until it's closing.

I'm not sure I'm even comfortable with this plan. Next time I'd like to work out spending the night being watched in the hospital with possibly some pre-medication with decadron, tylenol and/or benadryl.

 The third time was not charming and I'm not going for a fourth.