The hits keep coming...

The stent placement last month made a wonderful difference in how I was feeling and my ability to get out and about again. I celebrated first with a wonderful new haircut to get myself up out of the doldrums. We attended a fun music and art festival, a couple of shows, and even a dance night. I will admit that the dancing was more easy shimmying than raucous, but the music, atmosphere and people-watching was great. We were in great spirits and getting back into more normal patterns.

Unfortunately, one of the more difficult things about the cancer experience (or at least mine) is that about the time I get back on my feet from some treatment, or fixing the most recent issue, my knees get knocked out with some new problem. It seems to always be something ready to take me back down. There is incredible frustration in the continued adversities that crop up like unexpected gophers when you thought the whack-a-mole game was over.

This most recent setback found me stuck in the ICU for a couple of days. I started noticing some breathing issues again on Monday morning. Coming up the stairs just wore me out and my pulse/ox level (which ideally should be 95+) was dipping into the 80's with little exertion. Using oxygen seemed to quickly help the issue, so we moved into monitor mode. Checking my vitals often and me being hyper-aware of how my body was feeling and any changes. As the day went on the breathing issues continued to slowly decline. By Tuesday morning, even after having slept with the oxygen all night, there was significant tightness in the middle of my chest and it felt to me like there was no air getting into my left lung.

We packed a bag and headed off first thing to the hospital. At this point my breathing was continuing to decline, and quickly. First thing they did in the ER was take an x-ray. It showed that there was absolutely no air in my left lung and it was fully internally collapsed with atelectasis. I was put on an oxygen mask with 15 (!!!) liters and quickly moved into ICU. Something was blocking my stent and we would have to schedule another endoscopic bronchoscopy to get in there and see what was going on. The next morning I was in the OR again and it turns out there was a large mucus plug that had developed and completely clogged the stent. My thoracic surgeon was able to clear it out and just a couple hours after the procedure my breathing was back on course. A fresh x-ray showed the lower part of my left lung was filled with air again and clear of atelectasis. Spent the evening in the hospital for observation, but I was off oxygen again and my numbers were great.

Everybody was on board for me to be discharged on Thursday and I was feeling as good as I had the week before. One *lovely* night at home back in my own bed and I was excited for a full and easy recovery.

... and then comes the next kicker...

Had a small bit of blistering on my chest where the stickers for heart monitor leads had been. But Friday afternoon I had a swath of blistering across my right shoulder and the small areas on my chest had worsened. After quite a bit of googling hospital and bed rashes, we put some cream on the spots, let it air out a bit and I slept in a very loose shirt that covered it all. Spent a majority of Saturday on the feline schedule, sleeping in and napping at will. (Thanks to finally being off the Prednisone I can actually get solid and deep sleep.) Saturday evening it was clear that the blistering rash had spread and was becoming quite painful, though no itching. Headed into the closest urgent care facility this morning and they're pretty sure I have shingles. Harumph.

I won't have complete confirmation until the culture sample comes back. But it seems pretty obvious, and a lot of personal research later it does seem to be the best culprit. So now I am on an anti-viral medication, leaning on my pain pills heavily, and using lidocaine cream and an essential oil treatment to numb the pain and try to keep it under control. Unfortunately it is still spreading and there is little more we can do except stay on course and ride it out.

So, it constantly feels like someone punched me several times in the shoulder and chest. I am highly contagious by skin contact to anyone who hasn't had chickenpox. And I'm afraid that means lots more home-bound couch time for the next week or so until this gets better. *cue frustrating sigh*

Chumbawamba sang it clearly: "I get knocked down, but I get up again." And I am doing my best. But my metaphoric "knees" are pretty achy and I'm weary of being down on them again and again. It doesn't help that while I was in the hospital Thursday morning, a small gaggle of friends were flying out to Vegas for a long weekend of fun for which we were also booked. Nothing to be done about it except try to get our flight money back and seek another adventure for ourselves in the next couple of months. I'm fighting my way through it all. Tonight I'll distract myself with a Wonder Woman viewing, and remind myself that we can all be stronger.