I woke up in pain around 4:45 this morning. Mommy asked the nurse to hook me up with some of that morphine stuff, and I requested that she rock me. After I few minutes, I told her that I wanted to lie in my bed, and I commanded her to lie in hers.
A couple of hours later, I was being rushed to get my diaper changed, because we were heading down to OR25 again. Daddy got really mad when the doctor, Dr. Weiss, told him that they wouldn't be able to change my PICC line dressing while I was under anesthesia. Seeing as that was the worst experience I've had since being at Children's Hospital, he and Mommy wanted it to be done while I was sleeping. Rightfully so, if you ask me. Daddy says that he's not dropping it.
As soon as Mommy carried me into the OR, I began fussing. I remembered this place, but not in a positive way! This is where my head went fuzzy the last time. Mommy cuddled me, and I quickly started feeling sleepy...
I woke up in a different room, and by the time Mommy and Daddy got there, I was sitting up and mad. I kept screaming "NO!", but then I realized I was hungry. I started asking for a bar, then milk. They gave me the milk but told me I'd have to wait for the bar. Again with the waiting for food. I'm telling you, this delayed gratification thing stinks.
I screamed when we entered our room (I'm not so much liking it these days), I screamed when Mommy gave me my choice of three bars (and I threw the one I chose on the ground), I screamed when they tried to check my vitals, and I screamed when Mommy and Daddy didn't understand how and where I wanted to sit. Mommy looked pretty haggard, and Daddy did, too. Finally, we got to go out for a walk after rounds, and I wore my cute kitty cat mask. Originally, I refused, but if I didn't wear it, Daddy told me I couldn't go for a walk or ride in the alligator.
Once other people saw me in my mask, though, I changed my mind about it. I was stylin'! They kept saying how cute I looked and asking me what a cat says. I even showed off by pretending I was giving myself a bath like a kitty. When we eventually came back to the room with Nana and Papa, I didn't want to take off the mask (or go back to the room, for that matter).
The rest of the day was a Charlotte's Web movie fest... I watched it a gazillion times! I was feeling so awful and uncomfortable after the procedures and chemo this morning, and the morphine they were giving me for pain, that I didn't even want to play. Daddy and the nurse put some antibiotic cream on my back, and they're giving me another oral antibiotic (Zosyn) besides the Bactrim (a prophylactic antibiotic they've been giving me so I don't get pneumonia). The doctor confirmed that the spot on my back from last week's procedures was infected, and my body cannot fight off any infections on its own right now. The Zosyn should help.
My tummy hurt immensely tonight, since many of the medicines I have been taking cause constipation. I kept wanting to move back and forth between my crib and my Dora couch on the floor. Once Mommy thought I was comfy, I'd scream at her that I wanted to move to the other place. Every time she tried to change the TV from Charlotte's Web to something else, I yelled at her that I wanted to watch it. She was no match for me! I did happen to let Nanna B. rock me for a little while tonight, and that calmed me down a bit.
We did hear some good news from the doctors today. The preliminary results from the bone marrow test came back, and Dr. Hummel told us that we were "sitting around" five percent. He said they didn't have exact numbers, but they should have more precise results by the afternoon tomorrow. Dr. Pope reiterated the fact that this was good news, and Mommy asked where we were last week when I came to the hospital. She said not to quote her, and she hoped she wasn't mixing us up with another patient, but she thought we were around 70 percent. WOW! Those horrible chemicals they're putting in my body must be doing some good.
Who would've thought that to get better I'd have to feel so miserable...