One more week

As I predicted, we’re keeping me on IV antibiotics for another week. I was surprised, however, to hear that my doctor originally expected to send me back into the hospital at yesterday’s appointment. Fortunately, I looked better than she anticipated, and my chest didn’t sound any worse (though it also didn’t sound any better). She would have stopped the IV antibiotics yesterday, but I could use the extra support while recovering from the recent bleed, particularly since I’m still holding chest PT and half my nebulizer treatments. If I can just stay blood free for 48 hours I can gradually resume those treatments and get back on track with clearing the congestion out of my chest.

The good news is that there is FINALLY an end in sight. As long as nothing stupid happens within the next week, we will finally stop the IV antibiotics next Friday. Depending how I’m feeling we might continue the IV hydration, but we might also just give me a break from everything, since by then I will have been on IVs for more than 8 weeks. The nice thing about the port is that giving me a break is a viable option since it’s so easy to just re-access it and resume IVs if necessary. Though I wish I had seen a stronger response to treatment, I am very much looking forward to moving on from endless IVs and trying to put my life back together.

Yesterday, for the first time, I went into a store with my new oxygen concentrator. It was an interesting and conflicted experience. I definitely appreciated the fact that the oxygen made it easier for me to move around without huffing and puffing. But I also had conflicting thoughts and feelings about making my until now mostly invisible illness suddenly and inescapably visible. On the one hand I appreciated and on some level even enjoyed the validation of having something external to match the internal struggle. There have been many, many times over the years when various every day tasks were extremely difficult for me, and yet you would never know it from the outside. It can be very frustrating to push through your day feeling like a train wreck while looking like the picture of health. On the other hand, it felt very odd to walk through the store with a blatant sign of severe illness strapped to my face, knowing that everyone who saw me instantly knew that something was very, very wrong. I found myself wondering what people saw when they looked at me, this baby-faced girl afflicted with some terrible mysterious illness, a tragic image to tug at your heartstrings. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with strangers being able to immediately categorize me as the sick girl without knowing anything else about me. But that won’t stop me from living my life and using the medical supports I need to do so. It was an interesting experience, and I’m sure I’ll get used to it with time.

Hopefully my lungs will behave themselves and stop. freaking. bleeding. so I can get back on track with treatments and exercise and continue clawing my way back to health!