Backtracking: The following was written on March 15th. WBC up to 16. PFTs dropped from .82 to .70 in 48 hrs (Between March 8th and March 10th).

These past two days have been rough. Ever since last Wednesday my lungs have taken a sharp decline; the shortness of breath has been growing and the lethargy caused by every little movement is intense and troubling. I must admit, it is quite scary and humbling to go from the top of the world to the pits in seven short days, it kicks you down and cripples your sense of confidence. Yesterday (Monday the 14th), we decided to change my drugs since it was evident that due to my increasing shortness of breath, increased mucus production, and coughing up blood yet again, that my current combo was not working. To give you an idea, last Tuesday I was bookin' it to Dundas Square, taking quick strides in my heels and weaving between the masses to quicken my course to my final destination, on Saturday night the ease turned to effort as I struggled to walk against the current, wheezing, huffing, puffing, crackling.

Unfortunately, I'm allergic to one of the drugs that they decided to start me on (Ceftazidime), since I have been on it so many times (sometimes your body develops an allergy to it). So, in order to receive it safely, I had to spend the day in ICU to be desensitized. During this process they slowly introduce tiny amounts of the drug to your system until you have reached the optimal dose, meanwhile you are monitored by a nurse constantly and vitals (blood pressure, heart rate, oxygen, etc.) are monitored every 15 minutes--the whole thing takes about 8-9 hours (I believe mine took about 10 hours). And so, Tuesday morning I was woken up at 6 am to get an IV put in, served early breakfast around 7 am, then FINALLY sent up to ICU at 9 am.

What I did not expect was for the day to be so rough, my shortness of breath was intense, which I did not notice until my first walk attempt of the day. SITTING and not moving, I'm just fine, however the second I move, stand, or walk, I struggle to breath. In between vitals, I asked the ICU nurse if I could use the washroom (which, yay, I was allowed)--I hopped off the bed as I normally would and walked the five steps away to the bathroom... well, that was simply dreadful. By the time I walked back and climbed into bed I was drenched in sweat, my heart was racing, and I could not calm down my breathing--it took me about 30 minutes, and the aid of an industrialized fan that they found for me, to recover from the trip. For the rest of the day I avoided moving as much as possible and paged Respirology twice to voice my concerns--being that short of breath was new to me and, quite frankly, not a good feeling. At the end of the day, when I was 'fully desensitized' and ready to go back downstairs the nurse helped me transfer from the bed to the wheelchair, and again my breathing picked up... which she quickly noted 'you breath fast even from that, eh?'.

Today was not much better, the docs said it could be like this for a few more days until the drugs kick in. During the day I can barely move, I woke up with a headache and strapped on some 02 today because I just couldn't take it anymore (my sats are borderline, but my heart rate is slightly high). Oddly, at night I don't need 02 at all and I feel like a different person--a healthy able-bodied one, not one that cannot even find the breath to reach for something an arm's length away. 6 B found another fan for me, so I'm ever so grateful... this constant furnace heat just adds to the discomfort of suffocation.