Constance Ore is a retired Teacher, Choir Director, and Organist. And a formidable cook.

October 26, 2007

Filed under: — Constance at 11:54 pm on Friday, October 26, 2007

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Bryan Hospital in Lincoln, NE. has been updated since my last stay here because now I can use the laptop computer and a cell phone from my room. My flu, or supposed flu, since as usual, nothing is for sure, continued to worsen in spite of gallons of Gatorade, many anti-diarrhea pills, the BRAT diet and high hopes that soon the stomach cramps would lessen and life would proceed back to normal. By midnight Wednesday, I began to shake uncontrollably, and on Thursday morning, we were at the Oncologist’s office. We were sent to the hospital within the hour, and within two hours, the pumping of IV fluids began to bring me back to the human race. Because the intestines became inflamed, I was not given food or water by mouth until this afternoon, and now we wait and see if some solids will actually be able to be dealt with by a normally functioning internal system. I had no fever because I have no white blood cells to mount a defense against anything – a fever is caused by the immune system sending out the calvary and beating out interlopers; the chilling and shaking is therefore the ultimate sign that the body is no longer coping. Up until now, the rule was always, “Do you have a fever?” This no longer applies.

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Last night at about one AM, the IV began its alarm because it needed refilling, so I called for the nurse. Two of them came in – the first one was the RN on duty, and when the second one appeared, she asked, “Are you working on this Ward?” The second said, “No, I’m a floater between fourth and fifth floors”. I asked, “Does this mean that you are presently floating, as in are your feet above the floor? Because if you are, then you must surely be an Angel of Mercy”. Both of the women looked a bit bemused and then the RN laughed and said, “I just got that. . . ” The second smiled and said as she was going out the door, “I’m floating – an Angel of Mercy. . . I like that, I really like that.”

music.jpgThis afternoon we were heartened by the doctor’s report that the X-Rays were all fine, and that the abysmal blood readings were at least partially caused by the last round of Chemotherapy, and thus could be addressed by continued Neupogen and Aranesp injections as needed. We received assurances that if the food doesn’t cause intestinal cramping and energy returns with the hydration, I may go home on Sunday. Heidi was with me when the doctor came in with good cheer and good news, and after she left, Heidi did a wonderful happy dance of thanksgiving. I spent the last week wrapped in prayers and God’s assurances as presented in the Scripture, and in the sounds and words of hymns and spiritual songs that have gathered in my memory over the years.

1 Comment

Comment by Heidi

October 28, 2007 @ 3:07 pm

Mom

I know the Dr. has suggested that you remain in the Hospital for a time being – I will tell you – hospitalized or no – no one is classier that you –

When I visited on Friday, I came back to tell my co-workers that you were in the hospital in your olive green satin silk pajamas with the laptop hooked up to the internet sending messages, blogging, listening to NPR, etc.

You raise the bar for all of us that wish to be classy, dignified, and just darn wonderful.

Here are the words to JP’s musical selection – it is certainly the music one would choose to dance to.

Peace, oh most beautiful mother whom I adore!

I Know That My Redeemer Lives
–Samuel Medley, 1775

I know that my Redeemer lives;
O the sweet joy this sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead;
he lives, my everlasting Head.

He lives triumphant from the grave;
he lives eternally to save;
he lives exalted, throned above;
he lives to rule his church in love.

He lives to bless me with his love,
and still he pleads for me above;
he lives, my hungry soul to feed;
he lives to help in time of need.

He lives, my kind, wise, constant Friend;
who still will keep me to the end;
he lives, and while he lives I’ll sing,
Jesus, my Prophet, Priest and King.

He lives, all glory to his Name;
he lives, my Savior, still the same;
what joy the blest assurance gives:
I know that my Redeemer lives!

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