Star Patient or Just Staying Alive?

Okay, so I engrafted more quickly than they predicted. I didn't develop the dreaded mouth sores that end up putting patients on TPN (artificial food--a bag of yellowish liquid they infuse directly into your body, no chewing necessary). I didn't develop pnuemonia. I did spike one neutropenic fever, a really good one. Is this because I am special in some way? Hogwash! I played by all the rules. I did everything they told me to do. They were pretty sure they could save my life, so was I going to argue over taking handfuls of gut decontamination pills? Sure, they're big and nasty and they sit in your stomach like a huge wad of high density sludge. No one wants to take these mothers, but who wants to risk contaminating their gut?

I knew eating would start to feel like slicing off little bits of my body and throwing them on a composte heap. Not pretty. But I forced myself to eat some little thing at every meal. I dreaded being hooked to that TPN bag filled with unnaturally colored, liquidy goo. I was determined not to be. I did the obsessive hand-washing bit. I did my exercises, though with less gusto over time. Why was I so compliant? Why was I so willing to push "my way" to the side and embrace "their way"? Had I been brain washed?

No, I simply want to live. I want to go downstairs in the early morning light and sip coffee in front of the computer, watching the birds find ways to jump-start their new day. I want to lie in bed and watch my husband sleep like a baby (unlike me who sleeps like a battle's raging). I want to hear my daughter talk about her classes, about ideas she has for an ethics paper. I want to listen to my oldest son discuss race strategy for the big meet Monday. I want to talk baseball with my youngest son. I want to laugh at how ridiculous the dogs look after their shearing. There are lots of things I want to do, but doing just the ones I mention would make me very happy.

As much as fighting the power has its appeal, staying alive is more compelling. I have a long way to go before they pronounce me officially cured (and to be candid, I may never be cured), but I'm getting another shot at it. So, short of cheering for the Red Sox, I'll do everything they tell me to do.