I've made it. I've made it to the 7th floor, officially off continuous monitoring and no longer need continuous nursing support. This is a big step and how do I feel? Absolutely exhausted.
This latest "hiccup" or "bump" or whatever you want to call it, with the incision being infected, has frustrated me to no end. I'm super bummed. I'm so tired of these setbacks that everyone seems to claim is normal but yet, when the entire team of doctors want to see your wound, I start to be suspicious of how "normal" these things are.
I know I'm suppose to be grateful for my new lungs and pumped about everything. And I am. But I'm also mad that I had to go back to the OR. I'm frustrated that I was woken up yesterday and told I needed to try to pee and when my body refused, the nurse had to reinsert a catheter (great way to start my 28th year). I'm frustrated that I have another drainage tube as it's just something else to worry about ripping out in the middle of the night. And I'm frustrated that I've been started on three very strong antibiotics that to make sure that no other part of my sternum gets infected.
Anyone else want to scream in frustration with me? Except I can't scream because they did yet another bronc while I was under on Monday and my throat is raw.
On the positive side of things, my lungs are doing well. I'm on very minimal oxygen which is super encouraging. I even managed being off it yesterday evening and didn't freak out. My stats stayed okay until I was given Benedryl (due to my reacting to the antibiotics) and then my lungs decided they were tired so I had to put it back on. Today, Isaiah and I went for a walk and we had done one lap before we realized we forgot to connect my oxygen up. Clearly I'm still super panicked about wearing it. I think it was just too early for me last time and now I've been weaned me off it slow enough that now I feel more confident without it.
The other good news is that I'm now on regular liquids. Yay! Everyone can now flood me with lattes and other delicious drinks. I mean, I can only take a sip at a time and it takes me forever to get through even tiny apple juice but flood away! The swallowing is getting easier but it's still a struggle. My poor throat has been abused a lot and also doesn't know what it's doing after so long. Shockingly, I somehow managed to find a way to swallow nibbles of the birthday cheesecake that Isaiah smuggled in for me.
I've had many improvements in the past two days, I've moved to the 7th floor (another mad chaotic move that involved nurses throwing my stuff randomly into bags), I've started eating more, I'm able to make a small cough-like noise (it's amazing that after years of coughing, now I can't muster one up), and I used an actual bathroom for the first time in over a month!
So many improvements that I should be psyched about but yet I just want to lay in bed and have a pity party for me. Perhaps I'm just overwhelmed with all the changes or maybe part of me just realized I haven't had fresh air in over a month...or a shower. Oh sweet shower. I just need to focus on the improvements and not the fact that my incision is now a giant open wound with a vacuum machine attached to it. Argh! No one ever mentioned this being part of the transplant process. Stupid transplant manual.
To change the topic, I hope everyone is having a enjoyable New Years!