I hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst, and unfortunately the worst won out this time.

I’m back in the hospital again.

I woke up Thursday morning feeling pretty horrible.  Fever, chills, dizziness, and worsening kidney pain.  After three days of oral antibiotics, my kidney infection was getting worse not better.  I called my doctor who agreed it was time to head to the hospital.

By the time I got the ER, fever, pain and dehydration had conspired to give me tachycardia (racing heart rate).  I suppose one of the upsides of being really sick is being seen right away.  Despite the crowded waiting room, they found me a bed in the ER straight from triage.

They ran some tests.  Not surprisingly my white blood cell count was way up due to infection.  The ER doctor quickly explained that though they send home 95% of patients with kidney infections, there were multiple reasons he felt I needed to be admitted.  I’m immunosupressed from all the Prednsione I’m on, I have multiple chronic illnesses, the oral antibiotics at home didn’t work, and so on.

So I was admitted.

I received two different IV antibiotics over the next several days.  My veins weren’t happy about it and I went through 6 IVs in as many days.  But overall my stay has been uneventful.  Mostly I’ve been too tired to do anything but sleep.

I had several visitors who helped break up the monotony.  My mom and dad spent the most time here with me.  Sunday I was pleasantly surprised by a visit from two friends from church, Liz and Halee.  Then yesterday an old friend from high school Jenny paid me a visit followed by Christy and Brad from church.

I’ve been waiting this morning to find out the results of my latest tests and was just told they are good to go.  I’ve been discharged!  Yay!

I will go home with oral antibiotics which I will stay on long term to hopefully prevent yet another one of these kidney infections I seem so prone to getting.  It’s getting old – ending up in the hospital every few months from these things.  I’m hoping that these long term antibiotics will do the trick and keep me out of the hospital.

Fear.

Fear that I will end up back in the hospital.

Fear and OCD are a bad combination.  It’s bad enough to have a fearful thought in your head, but with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder you just can’t forget it.

I was woken by pain on Monday morning at 6am.  I felt like I was being stabbed in my left lower back and side.  An all too familiar pain.  The pain of a kidney infection.  AGAIN.  I’ve had far too many kidney infections the last few years.  Several of them have resulted in extended hospitalizations of a month or longer.  So to feel this familiar pain filled me with dread.

That is how the fear started.

I called my doctor as soon as the office opened.  He opted to put me right on antibiotics over the phone.  The first day was truly miserable.  I was in so much pain and my breakthrough pain meds were barely taking the edge off.  Yesterday I seemed to be feeling a tiny bit better.  But today I spiked a fever.

Not good.

Now the fear was escalating.  This infection was not heading in the right direction.  Instead it was following the well worn path that leads to the hospital.

I called my doctor who had me go get a urinalysis done to see where the infection is at.  I’ll get the result tomorrow.  The culture won’t be back though for a few days.

Now I wait and try not to let the fear take over.  But my thoughts are wanting to spiral out of control.

Kidney infection leads to hospital.

Hospital leads to latex exposure.

Latex exposure leads to anaphalaxsis.

Anaphalaxsis leads to another stay in the ICU.

Not fun.

Not fun at all.

Mental illness can sure make it more difficult to deal with a chronic illness.  But I’m trying to calm my thoughts.  Trying to channel my OCD into other happier obsessions.  But really I just want to cry because, though I try, sometimes I just can’t put a happy spin on life with a chronic illness.  Sometimes it’s not inspiring or uplifting.  Sometimes there’s no bigger picture.  Sometimes there’s no underlying lesson to be learned.  Sometimes it just sucks.

Sometimes I’m not a novel patient.  Sometimes I’m just a scared girl who doesn’t want to end up back in the hospital for the umpteenth time.

Sometimes things come crashing down emotionally.  I didn’t realize what an emotional toll being so ill in the hospital with a double kidney infection had until yesterday.  I didn’t let myself feel it in the midst of the crisis.  I guess I was in survival mode.  Literally.

But yesterday gave me a chance to reflect on it.  I was at my regular monthly appointment with my psychiatrist (who I absolutely adore), and he was asking me the normal questions about my physical health as it affects my mental health and everything just sort of hit me.  And I started to cry.  All the stress I had been burrying so I could make it through the hosptial stay and infection and 10 days of at home IV antibiotics came bubbling up to the surface.  I didn’t shed many tears because my illness, Sjogren’s Syndrome, damages my tear production… among other things.  And that made me cry harder.

And then finally dealing with my immediate past made me think about my immediate and not so immediate future.  And I cried because the future is so unknown and that is just plain scary.  This round of IV immunospupressants – Rituxan – doesn’t seem to have worked.  That is enough to make me cry in itself.  It is just so disappointing.  I am unsure what I should do next?  Should I risk suppressing my immune system further and more potentially dangerous infections like the one I’m just recovering from and get another round?  Will it even work?  Should I try something even stronger?  Or should I not take the risk and learn to accept my life as it is.  Is my new “normal” getting around in a wheelchair and being in pain and exhausted all the time with dibilitating and life threatening symptoms?  Is that how I’m going to be forever?  If this is how I am at 25, what will my life be like at 50?  Will I ever be independent again?  Will I need a caregiver forever?  And the scariest of all… how long is forever if I continue to be this sick?  Will I die from my autoimmune diseases and not with it?

But after crying this out of my system I realized I need a “new look” on many levels.  I can’t LIVE my life if I’m thinking this way all the time, so I don’t.  But I did need to get it out of my system once and a while.  The rest of the time I am thankful for what I still do have.  I am usually happy.  I have a wonderful caregiver in whom I’ve found a great friend as well.  I have the most wonderful and supportive community of online friends a girl could ask for.  I have a sister who does everything she’s able to support me.  A dog who loves give me cuddle therapy.  My writing, creativity, faith in myself, and most importantly HOPE!

I also got myself a “new look” in a more literal sense.  A new haircut and a new outfit.

After spending a total of 2 weeks in the hospital, I finally made it home on Friday!  Yay!  I’ve still been getting IV antibiotics at home twice a day for a total of 10 days.  But it is GOOD to be home.  There’s nothing like your own bed after the horribly uncomfortable hospital ones.  There’s definitely nothing like cuddling with your dog in that said bed.

The power was out yesterday and I found myself struggling (sadly) for something to do.  So I painted this picture of a Healing Growth Tree.  Rather symbolic.

Just a quick update to let you know I’m alive.  I’m back in the hospital since Thursday.  My fever came back and my pain got worse, so I was readmitted.

We’ve been trying to figure out the right combination of antibiotics to kick this kidney infection I have.  It just is being really stubborn.

In the meantime, I’ve been dealing with the normal hospital drama.  Allergies and latex intrusions.  Things not happening in a timely fashion or at all.  For instance, I’m fresh out of IV sites.  I’ve had 12 IVs so far.  And number 12 is hurting.  My doctor ordered a PICC line for me yesterday.  I still haven’t received it.  So now I might need to get IV number 13 just to keep getting my IV antibiotics.  IF they can find a place to put IV number 13.

But I’m hanging in there.  Trying to stay postive.  Because what else can I do?  Right now I’m looking forward to take out from my favorite restuarant for dinner.  When your in the hosptial its the small things like that that make a big difference.

I am thankful for internet access and my laptop.  They are keeping me sane.  I am thankful for my own pillow.  I am thankful I’m not even sicker than I am.  I am thankful that I like my doctors.  I am thankful for my mom and sister and dad and caregiver Melissa who have been visiting me so I don’t get too lonely.  And I am especially thankful to all my online friends who keep my company 24/7 and are always there when I need them!

Being in the hosptial sucks.  But it does put things into perspective.