. I was moved back to a private room
. I had to wear a surgical mask whenever I left my room
. All staff were to wear gowns, gloves and masks when entering my room
. All equipment in the gym was to be wiped down with antiseptic wipes before I could use it
. I was not to enter the dining room but eat alone in my room for all meals
. I was taken off all medication that could make me neutropenic; it was goodbye to Gabapentin, my nerve pain relief, and on to Amitriptyline instead
. I was to have blood taken daily
The main problem was, the nurses did not seem to have a set procedure for what to do if someone is neutropenic. It seems ridiculous, but depending what nurses were on shift the procedure would change. Sometimes they wouldn't wear gloves or gowns or a mask, and as one nurse said to me 'I'm not ill, I don't have anything'...so, she could predict when she would become unwell? My lovely Norwegian nurses would always gown up completely when they saw me as a precaution, but lets face it, the hospital had air vents. I had to take my mask off to eat and drink. The germs would find a way!
It made me a bit paranoid at the time actually, I felt like I could see germs everywhere and I was scared of the smallest of sneezes. My doctors explained that if my neutrophil count were to drop below .5 then that's when they would really worry. On average, a persons neutrophil count should range from 2 - 6 (I'm pretty sure we're talking about the thousands here, not just a couple floating around!) The lowest my count was, was .7 and the highest it got to was 1.87, but never above 2. There was no sense to it, each day it would go up and down like a yoyo.
What was going on now!?
Physically, however, I was getting stronger each day, and it is incredible looking back at how fast I began to progress. As I began to move more, as I slept better, as began to have less and less pain, I began to feel hope.
By week six, on Monday, I did my first walk with a tall rollator. Five incredible steps, wobbly and unsure, but steps nonetheless. I couldn't believe it. By Tuesday, I did my first sit to stand without using my arms to push myself up. By the end of the week I walked with my frame from the gym to my room.
I remember this as being one of the toughest yet probably one of the most rewarding moments of my life. That Friday I told my parents to wait in my room at 4pm instead of coming to find me in the gym and wheel me back to my room. My physio's followed me with my wheelchair and they also put a walk belt on me to hold my trunk up ever so slightly. My eyes firmly on the floor, I took each step slowly but surely, sweating with my mask on. As I went down the corridor I dared not look into anyone's eyes, but in my peripheral vision I could see my nurses with ear splitting grins, patients smiling with encouragement and my physio's encouraging me every single step.
I walked into the room to my Dad with his phone filming every moment. I sat down in my chair and we cried and clapped and I felt so, so happy. Drained, exhausted, sweaty, shocked, but proud. I'd did it!
By the beginning of week seven I was holding onto the parallel bars and learning to side step. I could get onto bed without a slide board or push up blocks, but just one giant leap. I was lifting 1kg weights and doing fifty arm to shoulder flexes. I could lift my leg off the bed! I could pull up my own knickers!!!
But I was still neutropenic. I mentioned in a previous blog that I had one more nasty procedure to deal with. It was time to take some bone marrow...
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