I awake early and my first thought is the upcoming
blood test. I'm hopeful that the white blood cell
count, or WBC, will show some improvement. Tangible
proof that I'm on the road to recovery. About 6:30
the nurse arrives and draws the sample from my left
arm.
I'm getting used to the routine, it's the fourth
morning I've been here. I have my breakfast. Still
convinced that the food is lousy, I've decided to
order boxed cereals. Can't mess that up. After
taking my washcloth-bath in the bathroom, I hop into
a clean-sheeted bed to read the morning paper.
Finally, about 10, the nurse comes in with the
report about the blood test. My white blood cell
count is the same as yesterday. Still very low. Bad news. But the
platelet count is up a little- something to be
encouraged about.
I take a little stroll along the halls of the cancer
ward to think it over. I'm finally at the head of
the trail to complete recovery and I haven't taken the
first real step. My confidence is somewhat shaken.
In the recesses of mind there is still that nagging
10%, the rate of failure, for those that the treatment
doesn't work for. Is this how it might start? The
WBC not responding quickly to the cessation of the
chemo treatment? I calm myself down by reminding
myself that I must give it time.
I see Dr. Thai in the hall and he mentions that he'll
be down to see me in a little while. He seems
apologetic to me and that unsettles me. I'm thinking that
he was expecting some improvement too. Back in bed I
accustom myself to the probable fact of staying
longer in the hospital. Soon Dr. Thai is there. Yes
the count is low, he says, but it may take five weeks
for it to return to normal. He checks my chart. No
fever for some time now.
"I am going to release you
from the hospital," he says. What a shock! "When?"
"I think you can go now." He gives me a
prescription for oral antibiotics and writes me some
instuctions - do's and don'ts. Do wash hands
frequently. Don't eat fresh fruits and vegetables
(too much chance of bacterial contamination), things
like this. I call my brother in town because Jane is
not home. Yes, he can drive me home.
Allright! Good news! I'm outta here! I begin to
assemble my stuff and dress. I see and say good bye
to some of the nurses who have attended me. I wear
out the line, "I hope not to see you again, at least,
not here." Cheerfully they agree. I'm still
impressed by the
courage of these women to face this place every day.
There seems to be little success here. Maybe it's
cases like mine that keep them coming back.
Jane and Bryn are very happy to see me when they
arrive back home. I'm going to have to be very careful
not to become reinfected, as it would land me back in
the hospital. With this in mind, I use rubbing
alcohol on the doorknobs, light switches, telephone,
TV remote, all the things that I was handling before
when ill. To make matters worse, Jane has some kind
of infection that she is taking antibiotics for
without great success. Deck stacked against us?
When around her I'll use a hospital face mask.
Nevertheless, I have no fever and so I continue to
monitor it. Heck, it hasn't even gotten up to
normal! My appetitie returns, I nap, I watch the
tube. I get some good sleep when finally I retire.
It's nice to be in my bed for a change though it
doesn't elevate or have built-in controls.
July 11th
