102, that's the fantastic fever I had today. I woke up to my normal blood draws, but this morning, since my fever had spiked overnight, I had an extra poke in the arm for infectious disease testing of my blood. I fell back asleep and did not move or wake up all morning. I slept through breakfast and through various people popping their heads into my room all morning. I woke up when my nurse, Taylor, gave me a goal to try and shower by noon. Noon seemed impossible to me because the slightest move or turn of my head, alone, was exhausting. I had chills as a result of my fever, so the last thing I wanted to do was take my clothes off and shower, but I did. I accomplished my shower and was very proud of that.
After my shower, I crawled back into bed and my dad showed up. I was happy to see him, but you wouldn't know it, because all I could do was lay in bed and sleep. I slept through his entire visit and didn't wake up until about 5:30 pm. My dad, and entire day, was gone. Somehow, I managed to make it two times around the unit. Pretty lame lap count considering I've completed 48 laps before, but today, two was all I could muster. At least I managed those.
This is truly a fight. I fought with myself just to make it out of bed. At one time, I just laid in bed, feeling defeated and cried for a minute, but I fought back the tears and kept pushing myself to stay strong mentally, even if physically, I was broken. I didn’t know the meaning of weak, until now. This bone marrow transplant has given new meaning to sick, weak and tired.