I am afraid to sleep. Today is Fathers Day. I spent it with my father, daughter and other family members. My daughter gave me a new pair of Wranglers and a new billfold. Both items that I will need when I begin my life after cancer. My stomach is acting strange, it is doing things that is has not done since I was in the hospital receiving heavy chemotherapy.
I do not get to spend much time with my daughter, she is a young woman now and has a busy life so I tried to be well. My insides had a plan of there own. The bathroom was occupied so I ran outside, and it was not pretty. I had not been able to eat all day so it was mostly liquid. The rest of the day was spent in a fog. Feeling lightheaded I decided to call it a day and get some rest. I drink some water and the nausea came back with a vengeance. I barely made it to the toilet, before my mouth started spewing out fluids with gut wrenching force.
I am lying down, on my stomach afraid to fall asleep because I might have that feeling again and choke in my sleep. It is 3 days shorts of 15 months since my transplant. The medications still have side effects on me. I am so hungry but know what food would do to me at this time. I have been trying to get my life prepared for the day I can return to work. I am taking correspondence classes and spending more time volunteering with the Blood Bank, but a day like today knocks me back a few pegs.
How can I construct a million dollar project and supervise 20 men when I can not drink water without becoming so sick I find myself curled in a fetal position, sweating yet being so cold. Perhaps in the next month I will make the final turn to recovery. As has been the norm, each day is full of suprises and I pray for the best but am prepared for the worse. When am I going to be called a survivor? This hangs over and in me.