Incarcerated. That's right, they have me locked up in Brigham & Woman's Hospital in Boston because of a fever. I have been here since Tuesday.
I have had a cough since January. It has varied from a small, barely noticeable thing to one that is quite substantial. And then chemo during treatment a week and a half ago, my temperature was slightly elevated. It kept going up until last Tuesday, it was 103.6 and they decided to commit me.
Apparently, I have some sort of bacterial infection, the source of which continues to be a mystery. They are giving me a series of IV antibiotics. These have lowered my temperature to just under a hundred or so. They are still not satisfied.
So, here I sit, waiting for my temperature to go down. It is not bad really. I have a very nice room with a little fridge and a private bathroom. I can pick up the phone, place an order, and people bring me "breakfast in bed" or any other meal that I want. I could get used to this. In fact, I think I already have.
The down side is that people come in for other reasons. One of the more frequent is "vitals" during which they measure blood pressure, and temperature. It is not what they do. It is when they do it. Often, this is in the middle of the night - just after I have managed to get to sleep. They show up again at 5:00 AM.
They are not as bad as the "labs" people who show up at 5:30 AM with needles that they want to stick into me. Some insist on two separate stabbings. "Good Morning, Mr. Clark. I am here to stick needles into you." The woman who does this is very nice, but has an Eastern European accent. This morning, I worked up the nerve to ask her where she was from. I was relieved to hear "Albania". I was afraid she would say, "Transylvania". I asked the doctors if they had ever figured out how much blood they took from their patients and whether or not this was more or less than the Medieval Physicians took when the "bled" their patients.(I wonder if it is the bleeding that really cures us?)
They have done lots of other tests as well including many x-rays - of my chest and head, an EKG, a CT Scan, an echo-cardiogram, many blood cultures, and other stuff that I have probably forgotten about. They have another thing scheduled for tomorrow where they stick an ultrasound thing down my throat for some sort of special echo-cardiogram. I can hardly wait.
And really, I feel pretty good. I am quite comfortable here. And while the "stabbings" give me something to complain about in this blog, they really don't bother me at all. The people are great. Barbara has been terrific about visiting me daily. I am not going "stir-crazy". I have started dressing in civilian clothes every day and leaving my room for a while to go out and explore the hospital - mostly just to get come exercise. And I have been doing a lot of reading.
So, it appears that everything seems to be on track toward some sort of parole within a few days. I will probably put out another blog before then.
Until then, I remain,
Yours truly,
Warren, the human pincushion.
I have had a cough since January. It has varied from a small, barely noticeable thing to one that is quite substantial. And then chemo during treatment a week and a half ago, my temperature was slightly elevated. It kept going up until last Tuesday, it was 103.6 and they decided to commit me.
Apparently, I have some sort of bacterial infection, the source of which continues to be a mystery. They are giving me a series of IV antibiotics. These have lowered my temperature to just under a hundred or so. They are still not satisfied.
So, here I sit, waiting for my temperature to go down. It is not bad really. I have a very nice room with a little fridge and a private bathroom. I can pick up the phone, place an order, and people bring me "breakfast in bed" or any other meal that I want. I could get used to this. In fact, I think I already have.
The down side is that people come in for other reasons. One of the more frequent is "vitals" during which they measure blood pressure, and temperature. It is not what they do. It is when they do it. Often, this is in the middle of the night - just after I have managed to get to sleep. They show up again at 5:00 AM.
They are not as bad as the "labs" people who show up at 5:30 AM with needles that they want to stick into me. Some insist on two separate stabbings. "Good Morning, Mr. Clark. I am here to stick needles into you." The woman who does this is very nice, but has an Eastern European accent. This morning, I worked up the nerve to ask her where she was from. I was relieved to hear "Albania". I was afraid she would say, "Transylvania". I asked the doctors if they had ever figured out how much blood they took from their patients and whether or not this was more or less than the Medieval Physicians took when the "bled" their patients.(I wonder if it is the bleeding that really cures us?)
They have done lots of other tests as well including many x-rays - of my chest and head, an EKG, a CT Scan, an echo-cardiogram, many blood cultures, and other stuff that I have probably forgotten about. They have another thing scheduled for tomorrow where they stick an ultrasound thing down my throat for some sort of special echo-cardiogram. I can hardly wait.
And really, I feel pretty good. I am quite comfortable here. And while the "stabbings" give me something to complain about in this blog, they really don't bother me at all. The people are great. Barbara has been terrific about visiting me daily. I am not going "stir-crazy". I have started dressing in civilian clothes every day and leaving my room for a while to go out and explore the hospital - mostly just to get come exercise. And I have been doing a lot of reading.
So, it appears that everything seems to be on track toward some sort of parole within a few days. I will probably put out another blog before then.
Until then, I remain,
Yours truly,
Warren, the human pincushion.
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