Neutropena

I shouldn't be feeling this badly. It's not a crash day. All I can manage is to curl up in a miserable ball and rock myself gently in the blue chair. I am so cranky I bat Sugar away when she brings me her toy to throw. She curls up in a ball behind my chair. We are miserable together. The day passes agonizingly slowly. The ticking of the clock reverberates through my aching head. I try to drink - my mouth is drier than a dust bowl. My tongue sticks to my teeth. Water doesn't help. I am going down hard.



I finally remember to take my temperature. 100.6. That can't be right. I wait a half hour and take it again. 100.8. Crap. Anything over 100.4 must be reported. I call the hot line and speak with the oncall hematologist who tells me to go to the ER and have labs drawn.



Kiel drives me in. The ER is not hectic, but busy. I explain to the receptionist why I am there, and they don't leave me in the public areas for long. Three hours and a number of tests later, they tell me they are admitting me. What?? Turns out I am neutropenic (you have to learn a whole new vocabulary for each type of cancer you are dealing with). That means that your white blood cell count and your bone marrow counts are too low and you have basically no functioning immune system.



Rather than leave you at risk of catching something, you get isolated and pumped full of antibiotics via IV - the heavy duty stuff. The question which doesn't always get answered is whether the fever is a symptom of the neutropena or whether it is the result of an infection.



At 3am I arrive on Strong's oncology floor, 634, and am settled into a special room with its own air handling system. I still feel pretty yukky, but the IV fluids are helping with the dehydration. I want to sleep, but I hurt everywhere. I close my eyes. I can hear the clock ticking. It has a very irregular rhythm, like a train clacking across metal tracks.



I imagine I am on a trip to someplace wonderful, a place of warm sandy beaches and blue oceans and balmy breezes. I finally drift off.