Today I woke up with chills and sweats again (unpleasant) but my body seemed to fight the fever off by itself--telling me this new antibiotic, Vancomycin, is getting the job done. I am now medically stable enough to go home, exactly two weeks after my transplant (amazing what the body can do, eh?) but will be staying here to finish my course(s) of antibiotics since home care will not work with 3 antibiotics (Meropenum, Ceftazidime, and Vancomycin). I'm basically connected to this pole all the time, so until that goes, I stay here!

I started some light leg and arm weights today and will be heading back to the treadmill room on Friday. I can't wait to see what these babies are capable of! However, since I still have an infection, I don't expect I'll see their full potential for a while. Also, since my brain still thinks I have CF lungs, I have to constantly remind myself to take deeper breaths-- it doesn't come as 'naturally' as one would assume.

Tomorrow I may also have every other staple removed from my incision sight... I wonder how many there are?

Let's fly out of here!

Our blog updater, H, is now off in sunny Barbados (lucky gal)! So who more fitting than to fill her place than ME. That's right, right from the horse's mouth (I've never understood that saying).

I was 'scheduled' to go home today, but over the weekend I had fevers and my exercise tolerance dwindled so I knew something was brewing. I'm already on two antibiotics, Ceftazidime and Meropenum, but today when they walked in my room and saw that I was shivering and sweating at the same time they added a potent third: Vancomycin.

So far this afternoon I'm feeling some improvement, I was able to walk around without the walker and at a decent pace, and last for longer. Fingers crossed this does the trick!

Truth be told I did not at all feel comfortable going home with a raging infection, so hopefully a few more days will do me good. I will likely go home on IVs for a bit to keep the infection at bay. FYI my donor lungs were perfect and came without infection, unfortunately my diseased CF lungs left infection in their airways which is causing all this residual trouble.

Otherwise, I have my very first bronchoscopy scheduled for tomorrow to find out exactly what I'm growing, clear out some secretions, and check for any signs of rejection. May as well add this one to the 'fingers crossed it goes well' list.

Backtracking: February 15th
Procrastinators take note: it is never a good idea to fall behind on documenting your own health record.

First, you may notice I've changed my blog around a tad (ok more than a tad) in order to avoid the actual 'work' that needed to be done. I realize Grandparents will be sending me evil e-mails regarding this change so let me try to make this transition easier: 1. To leave a comment you have to click on the post you are reading to see the 'comment' box, and 2. All my tags and blogs I follow, etc. links are grouped at the bottom of the page... I'll try to fix this if I'm feeling ambitious again.

Now onto the fascinating storytelling...

The next clinic on Feb 15, started out semi-promising (so it seemed); my PFTs were back up to 25% and I was feeling ok. But when the new fellow (who I've grown to love) entered the room, all of my inflated sense of health quickly deflated and I was hit with a tsunami of information. First, we agreed that just 'ok' was not good enough and that obviously I had reached my plateau with Cipro and oral antibiotics in general--this point was emphasized by the fact that my WBC (which hadn't been checked the week before) was 17. Yikes. FYI: anything below 10 is normal.

Then and there we quickly decided that I needed IV antibiotics and before you could blink I was down in radiology getting a PICC line inserted. In fact, this happened SO fast that I had to send my mom out to buy me a t-shirt, while my arm was being sliced open, since my long-sleeved shirt was no longer a practical option and hospital gowns are never an option in my opinion.  I opted to subject my right arm to the PICC line fun this time around, since my left arm is a big spaz (veins spasm, that play on words sounded more entertaining in my head) which is not hospitable for the wire rode that wants nothing more but smooth entry into your superior vena cava. As a result of my decision, they got the PICC line in first try, no problems!

Backtracking: January 30th-February 14th

Remember that time I promised to 'continue tomorrow' only to bail like a bad, deceiving date? Yeah, I apologize. Please take me back and grasp onto my good qualities after reaching past my less desirable (unreliable?) qualities. Where was I? Oh yes, once upon a clinic day...

First off, I barely made it to clinic day. After arriving home Sunday night I replayed the morning in my head: the blood, the struggle to breath, the unbelievable feeling of helplessness coupled with  not being able to talk (again--keeping in mind that my voice is my most prized possession) all led me to an internal panic. Internal panic could only stay that way for so long before it was externalized and I wanted to phone the on call doc... BUT I knew they would only tell me to come to (germy) emerg and I opted to wait it out for two more days--48 hrs until I'd have my answers.