Never, ever, ever a dull moment...

I can say a lot of things about my life, but quiet and dull are not on that list. There is always something. Or two, three, five, or a dozen somethings.

Sunday night we settled down for a nice sleep. Well, Kelly settled down for a nice sleep and I settled in for a 'best bits of sleep I could hope for' sleep. Things were going according to plan pretty much. At one am, I have trach clog. I can't clear it. I am always amazed how Kelly can go from sound asleep and snoring to wide awake and completely competent so fast. It is never that half awake stage you are in for a crying baby or barfing kid, he is completely together.

Canula pulled. Still hacking. Still coughing. Pulled the whole trach. This is usually the key. Nope. Still can't shake it loose. This is a problem as vacuuming directly into the windpipe is not a good idea. Kelly does a quick job of trach cleaning and resetting. He gets it back in pretty quick too, which is no easy feat now that it is almost just a normal sized hole and it is one in the morning and I am coughing. He does a little vacuuming and puts down a fish. I am then able, at last, drawing on those muscles from playing low e flat fortissimo on the bass clarinet, to hack up the small pony that was causing the issues. Those clunkers make a very distinctive sound when they clear the tube, but it has become a joyous noise to us. More interesting is when they clear and you can't find them at first. Later you discover the unsightly blob on the front of the dresser or half way up the wall. Attractive, but better out than in.

The remainder of the night progresses in its usual way. Kelly sleeps, but is always quick to respond to my slightest touch. I sleep in between trips to the bathroom, re positioning, and the unrelenting pain in my mouth. Please, please let the dentist have an answer.

Kelly is happy to report in the morning that the dentist will in fact see me at 2:30. Thank Heavens! Now to make it until 2:30.

Kelly and Karissa go to riding lessons. Karina sleeps. I try to talk myself into getting out of bed and making breakfast. It takes a lot of talking, but I finally manage it. Some pain meds down and slowly I make my breakfast and syringe it in. I know that I have to keep moving.

Once they arrive home, I feel safe enough to go outside for a bit. I pick some large tomatoes, but I just can't face the 10,000 cherry tomatoes. Any Eugene friends, feel free to come get some if you are interested. In the past, I would have picked them and brought them too you, but I just can't.

Karina is up at the crack of noon. She does continue the great tomato freezing caper despite the fact that A) she doesn't even like tomatoes and B) she hates the smell of them. I am thankful as it breaks my heart to see them rot on the counter.

Fortunately time passes pretty quickly and we are off to Dr. L, the dentist Zachary recommended. Our dentist left to go back to orthodontist school, so we are currently without a dentist. Also, since I have so many issues, I really need a little more than a concert b flat dentist for this.

Dr. L.'s office person is wonderful. His assistant is so patient and kind. She wants to take an x-ray. I'm not thrilled about this, but they need to take a look. Except there is no way you are getting film in my mouth when I can only open a centimeter. Plan B it is.

He takes a long time making a very thorough exam in a very limited space. Not only can I not open my mouth very far, the edema is insane. However, one probe stick into the last molar tells the tale. After they scrape me off the ceiling, an abscess is pronounced. No fun for anyone, but for me a particular problem. The usual plans of action, root canal or extraction, are not available to me. Due to all the radiation, the tissue won't heal. I will need hyperbaric oxygen treatments before and after. Except I can't have those until I get an all clear on the cancer as all that oxygen will also encourage that "tissue" to grow. So the plan of action for now is massive doses of antibiotics.

I've already had 600 mg of Clindamycin for my premed so we'll just continue with this drug of choice. 1800 mg a day. Wow. That is a lot of antibiotic. But this is pretty miserable and infection left unchecked isn't good either so, here we are.

Also he would like me to go see one of the notable local oral surgeons for a panoramic x-ray and to discuss the options further. Like how, even if I could have the HO, would they get my jaw open enough to extract the tooth? However, I need to run all of this information by Dr. Andersen and Dr. Fryefield as they are the ones who know how much radiation, where, etc.

From Dr. L's office we head straight to Zachary's office. He is able to knock the pain down to a manageable level for me. Far from pain free, but in the tolerable zone. I am so thankful for the relief.

After dinner, Karissa is dying to go through the big bag of clothes we got from a friend (thank you Kim L!)  She is beyond thrilled with what she finds. A strapless dress!!! A bikini!! A bra with an actual hook on the back!!! OOOhhh AAAAhhh. As much as I'm not ready for her to grow up, she is. Not that I remember anytime in my life being excited by a strapless dress, a bikini or a bra with an actual hook. Well, that's not true. I was thrilled to buy a bra with LESS than four hooks after my reduction surgery. Does that count?

Still, to be able to sit on her bed and watch her excitement was a priceless gift. I, of course, wish I felt better so I could help her more rather than mostly watching. I wish communication was easier so I could comment on some of the clothes, i.e. this would look nice with that, or that shirt is really flattering, and, of course, that is not a good look for you, no.  Still if being able to enjoy the experience in my reduced capacity is the price I had to pay to be there at all, then so be it.

We passed a pleasant evening, had a fun little chat with Karina before bed, and prepared for yet another night of will I sleep roulette. The magic eight ball says, "sort of."

Multiple trips to the bathroom, although none of them producing the desired result that was supposed to occur within "15 minutes to an hour." Sigh. Trying desperately to find a position that doesn't make my tailbone hurt, my head slide, my neck or shoulders ache, or my hands go numb. So a usual restful night.

Kelly is up early to go to work for a couple of hours. He does a canula clean before he goes and I again hack up a hamster. However, this makes me feel much better. Almost goodish. This was not to last.

I drift in and out of sleep between text messages and Karina's alarm going off. She does eventually get up, get dressed and head to work, too. Karissa is watching T.V. I am trying to convince myself to get up. I don't feel very good. Kelly gave me the first blast of my antibiotics before he left and they are not kind on an empty stomach. I think I'm going to puke. Or not. I don't know.

It all gets fuzzy after that. I remember standing up. I remember being on the floor in our room and things kind of askew. The next thing I know, Karissa is asking me if I am okay as I am lying on the floor in the hallway and there is blood. Well, that is pretty much the definition of not okay.

I am very proud of her. Despite the fact that she was scared out of her wits, she kept it together. I had to sign to her, which is very difficult, but she followed it. She brought me a pillow. She got my phone and I texted Kelly and told him to call back and she would answer. She told him I was on the floor and there was blood. He called 911 and headed home. She put the dog in her box and let the paramedics in. She told them I can't talk and got me my boogie board. Pretty amazing.

Kelly arrived on the scene moments later. It is decided that it is best that I go to the hospital to get it all checked out. The paramedics roll me onto a tarp looking thing with handles. They carry me out the front door where they can get me on the gurney. From there, I am loaded into the ambulance and on my way. At no point did it occur to me that I was only wearing a raggy (now blood covered) t-shirt and my underwear.

There is discussion of starting an IV, but he decides against it. Everything is fine, although I wish my stomach would stop lurching. We are at Riverbend amazingly quick and right into a room. I get a heart monitor, a blood pressure cuff, a pulse ox and a barf bag. Kelly and Karissa arrive right behind us.

After many questions, the Dr, whom was very thorough and knew her stuff, ordered and EKG and a CT scan and some blood work. And so the fun begins.

I get a gown instead of my bloody shirt, some warm blankets, and socks. When I cannot quell the rocking of my stomach, they give me anti nausea meds (Zofran-- this will come back later). Kelly does a quick canula clean and they take me down for a CT.

While I am in CT, Kelly calls Angie, who leaves school and comes to get Karissa. Thank goodness! Although she was doing an amazing job of being brave, the hospital is sometimes scary and the ER even more so.

The blood work shows white counts and blood sugar slightly elevated. The EKG shows my heart doing the rumba. This is not unusual for me, but the doctor says that Zofran is not recommended for someone with my particular heartbeat pattern as it causes some issues, so no more of that for me. Another one for my ever lengthening list. The CT shows everything in my brain is fine. However, the abscess infection has spread to my sinuses and there is 'extensive disease' there. Lovely. But the antibiotics are the right course of action, although I may need to be on them longer than ten days. The bleeding head wound is superficial and requires no treatment. The contusion between my eyes is unattractive, but also is minor. What could improve Dr. Seuss hair and beach ball edema but a nice contusion?

Based on the fact that I improved considerably as soon as they got my stomach under control, she decides I can go home if I feel up to it. Why yes, yes I do.

Still I need to finish the liter of fluids hanging. I also still haven't eaten since last night, so Kelly breaks into our emergency rations. MMMM baby food. But calories none the less.

Considering all of the things that could have happened, this seems like a cautionary tale. If you feel too dizzy to stand up, that means don't stand up. Don't take massive doses of antibiotics on an empty stomach. Be thankful for brave little girls.

Also be thankful for big girls, who come home from work and clean up the scene of the crime. Somehow Karina always gets charged with blood mopping up. Oh yeah, because blood makes me faint. And, apparently, sometime fainting makes me bleed.

The nurse was generous enough to find some lovely paper scrubs for me to wear home instead of wheeling me out in my underwear. And I did accept the wheelchair ride for one of the few times in my life.

Since arriving home, I have been hanging on the couch. I have had some actual food, lots of water, more antibiotics and some Tylenol. Generally I feel okay. I need to wash the blood out of my hair, but I'm not sure I'm up for standing in the shower yet. A delightful bruise is blossoming on my right hip, so I can pretty much piece together what hit the floor. It is a miracle with all the heavy furniture in our room that I didn't really crack myself a good one.

Here's to hoping that the antibiotics kick out this ugly infection.

Here a huge thanks to my family, Angie, Krista, CJ, and the members of the medical profession that got me through today.

Remember when you tell the Universe that you are willing to dragged to hell and back, but you want to live, that it will take you at your word. Be prepared for it.

Until tomorrow, when I hope to have absolutely nothing interesting to tell.

Love,
Kiara