Dear Friends and Family,
When Nancy awoke one morning last week, her report was not favorable.
“Winnie, I just don’t feel right. I’m not hungry—even water tastes bad. All I want to do is sleep. What does it mean?”
The previous four days had seen a gradual decline in our “vacation.” Each night after work, we still talked and relaxed by a roaring fire. Fortunately, Nancy could still stay awake for the final credits of the video I rented each day—but there were no more trips to the market, no visits to the nearby outlet mall, and no back-booth, off-hours restaurant meals. In fact, Nancy’s oral intake had become an increasing concern.
“Are you nauseated, Nancy?”
“Had any cramping?”
“How about vomiting or diarrhea?”
Each of Nancy’s replies was an unpleasant shock to me.
“Actually, yes . . . I didn’t want you to worry, Winnie. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
I knew differently.
“We need to call the transplant team, Nancy.”
By that afternoon, Nancy was readmitted to University of Utah Hospital, and the elevator ride to the Fifth Floor was once again filled with unpleasant memories. I was sad, devastated, and even frightened, too.
“Everything’s fine, Winnie. I’ll feel much better once I’m rehydrated. And a PICC (central IV) line isn’t so bad. It will help us get home sooner. This isn’t our first rodeo.”
We were so close—a week away from our Woodland home. We had discussed our first meal there, our first visitors, and our first walk by the river.
Thankfully, the medical team quickly discovered a treatable GI bug. Once again, there is no evidence of graft-versus-host disease on the small bowel biopsy. In return, Nancy gave up the freedom of an IV-free shower, but we were able to return to the Marshalls’ home in Park City seven days later.
Once again, Nancy was right.
Summary: We continue to take one step back for every two steps forward. This time, our “backward” step included a week’s stay in the hospital fighting yet another GI bug. We cannot wait for Nancy’s new immune system to gain full strength.
Best,
Winnie