Well, the rest is just a bunch of days with ups and downs...bright spots and gray spots. Each day was a little better than the one before. Each morning I woke up with a bit more energy. I could now walk around the nurse's station a few times before huffing and puffing, though my pulse continued to skyrocket whenever I was standing, much less walking.
One day, I was feeling queasy. Zofran wasn't helping...I just felt bleck. I told my dad that I needed to puke. My catalyst soon arrived in the form of my dinner tray. As soon as I smelled it, I told Mark to get it out of the room. As he was trying to decide what to do with it (stick it in the bathroom vs. take it out to the nurse's station), I made the mistake of crying out, "What IS that?!?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, I threw up...a TON. Buffalo. Meatloaf. I wish that I was joking. REALLY??? Since when is BUFFALO a mainstream protein?!? Ick! Of course, once I threw up and threw up and threw up some more, I felt a TON better and that was the last of queasy tummies for several days.
I want to put in a very weak, very sad shout-out to my precious daughter. This has all been most difficult for her, I believe. She has be so brave and so strong! You see, not only did she keep having her mommy yanked from her, but the night before my first return to the hospital, she had a dream that I was going to be taken away from her along with daddy. It was a horrible, vivid nightmare and I had a hard time calming her afterwards. Little did I know how prophetic my little girl would be. A bit creepy to me, still. It was also extra difficult for her because she had to have her birthday party in my hospital room on a day that was definitely a "down" day for me. I barely made it through present-opening before sending everyone to the waiting room for cake. I was hardly present and felt so sad for her. She was so good about it and had such a happy attitude just wanting me to feel better.
She has really been a great encouragement to me through all of this and I hope that I can someday convey to her how hard it was for me to see her go through all of this. She had another nightmare this morning involving me going back to the hospital and having to leave her again. *sigh* I wish that I could promise her that it wouldn't happen. Unfortunately, I cannot. I can only hope, pray, and beg for you to join me in this prayer. She is a strong little thing, but if one more person tells me how resilient children are, I might deck them. I don't care how resilient they are, I don't want to see my baby girl suffer now whether it effects her future or not. (Dustin, this would not be the time to be a smart aleck!) ;)
Anyway, the day that I got to come home was kind of scary. I held my breath praying that I didn't have to go back. I was afraid to sneeze lest I mess something up.
PRAISE THE LORD, I had no more setbacks for over 2 weeks other than just fatigue and that sort of thing! He has done marvelous things and will continue to do so. I am full resting in His promises of comfort, peace, healing, and supplication. Thank you, Lord, for your providence!