The Diagnosis Is In And The Cure Is Hell

With a manicure and pedicure booked on the 24th, and with my health deteriorating by the minute, I called to cancel the appointment, thinking I wouldn’t be able to last long enough. However, being deeply in need of at least a pedicure, my gal at the salon suggested she could at least give me a basic pedicure to get me through.

I could tell by the looks on their faces at the salon that I looked like death warmed over once I arrived. My gal soon whipped my feet into shape and I felt better for having it done.

The next morning I awoke and announced to Nat that I definitely wanted to get checked into the hospital. He agreed. This time it didn’t take as long, as I stressed the fact that I was now very malnourished and in need of an IV with nutrients. I was soon booked into a bed and headed to the Short Term Stay area of The St. Catharines General for however long it would take to get me diagnosed and back up to speed.

The Short Term Stay area is a connection of 8 Pods (or small rooms with curtains for doors) surrounding a nursing station where doctors and nurses can see into each and keep an eye on everything around them. A nice set-up. I sent Nat home once I was settled in as there was nothing more that could be done and I knew he was exhausted mentally and physically from this entire ordeal. He, at least for now, could relax knowing that I was in good hands and being taken care of.

Trying to get sleep in any hospital is virtually impossible. If you’ve ever been in one you’ll understand. At one point, I soon began to doze off, but by 3:00 am some nursing staff decided to have a small get-together around the station until 4:00 am. So much for that.

It was Saturday afternoon before I was seen to by an Internist who had read my chart from top to bottom and realized I had developed Thrush. A yeast infection in my mouth that affects immune-suppressed patients getting dentures. It’s more common in babies and other adults, but just my luck, I was also a candidate. This Internist was good!

A medication was prescribed, and naturally, it was disgusting – a creamy little drink that you had to swish around your mouth and then swallow. This little drink only added to my gagging and being sick more than ever. I became sick just thinking about each dose before I took it. In fact, I cheated a couple of times and tossed a dose or two in the garbage. I would rather have died than take this crap. It was that bad.

It was soon discovered that the Thrush had spread down into my throat which is the reason why the intolerance to a couple of meds. I had also developed a bit of a bladder infection which had to be taken care of immediately. With everything else going on in my body, my new little kidney also had to be taken care of. If I rejected it now, I wouldn’t be able to live. You would not believe the amount of medications I now had to swallow (now a huge struggle) – 13 medications for the kidney, 1 antibiotic, 1 for the Thrush, 2 for stomach acid and a Potassium pill (which I was now lacking). And that’s just the morning routine. You get an infection in your mouth and the cure is almost as worse.

I was finally released after 4 days, with the new meds in hand. The body was still extremely tired and I just wanted to curl up into a ball under my duvet cover and sleep for a thousand weeks.

Still unable to swallow any kind of “soft” food, I struggled to get any nutrients into me in order to get my strength up. One of the most difficult things I have to do. I’m such a picky eater and drinker, I’m struggling to keep things in my stomach long enough for the nutrients to be absorbed into my body and help to get me up and running. Nat is in such a state, we’re now starting to argue about it. It’s so difficult for me to explain about the swallowing and he has no idea of how it feels. He’s now extremely worried, but how do I reassure him that I’m okay.

It’s upsetting to me, too. I would die for any kind of solid food from a simple grilled cheese sandwich right up to a Panko-encrusted pork chop with homemade fries. I’m in such a catch 22 situation I couldn’t win even if the odds were in my favour.

Once I was diagnosed, Nat and I soon began to discuss the fact, that why didn’t my Dentist catch this thing as it was developing. Even I could see my tongue was getting coated as the dental visits progressed. We really could have nipped this disgusting thing in the bud. Alas, too late and now I must endure what befalls me and for as long as it takes to get cured.

I return to the Internist this Wednesday to see how things are going. She implied last visit that this could last for a couple of weeks before I see any results. My mind and spirit truly do not know how long we’ll last. 2018 to me will never end.

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