It was only one week after my cancer diagnosis but nothing felt the same. Everything that seemed so important the week before didn't matter as I lay in my hospital bed- I hadn't showered in almost a week and smelled like vomit, there were tubes coming out of my chest, I was peeing in a bed pan with the help of my parents and my survival for another week 100% depended on the things being pushed into my Broviac (e.g. blood, platelets, TPN, antibiotics, kidney saving drugs, fluids, etc). What happened to me!?!
The head of Pediatric Oncology visited at noon. He was a tall gentleman who could not have seemed more accessible. He expressed that everything was continuing as expected, which was something I was still trying to understand. "This is normal?" In fact, my chart from 1/13 even reported that I was 'in good spirits.'
I guess everything is relative and when assessing my general demeanor, they took into account the fact that I vomited about a Coke can worth of bile throughout the day.
Overall, the days were starting to blend together mostly due to the fact that I was either trying to sleep to pass the time or because I was pumped full of antiemetics.
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