Well the last little debacle had me in the hospital for the better part of a week, with pills, needles, IV’s, X-rays and blood tests galore. Like a little cirrhosis Mardi Gras sans parades, glitter and awesome food.
Turns out I was dragging around a case of pneumonia which was making everything go a little nutso, physically.
So they loaded me up on antibiotics then vacuumed out seven and a half liters of fluid from my diaphragm, which was very interesting and made me feel considerably more comfortable for a while. Unfortunately, I did start to swell up again, but not to the capacity it had been. The docs decided to tweak out my diuretics to deal with it.
Now, if you have never been on diuretics, let me tell you…it is quite the experience. All day, all night you get sudden and very urgent needs to, well, empty your bladder. This last change had me literally running to El Bano every 30 minutes.
Whooohooo! That is SO Rock and Roll!
Well, no. But it is, along with a lot of other minor and major indignities, necessary to keep the docs happy and this wobbly bit of flesh and blood as healthy as it can be under these laughably absurd circumstances.
So, they discharged me with a fistful of prescriptions and here we are, back to the varying day to day of feeling OK, feeling really bad and wondering how the people who are really bad off with this do it. I have a LOT of help to get me through the days (even when I am being an ass) and that makes a big difference. Without family and friends there are many times when things would be much harder. Keep that in mind next time you are being blatantly unreasonable about something inconsequential.
Next week, it is off to transplant evaluation. I am guessing that means more pills, needles, IV’s, a CT scan and blood tests. “You gotta do, what you gotta do.”
Meanwhile, I go through time feeling like I am being held together with nothing but faith, hope and gaff tape.
It will do.