Neutropenic

High drama ensued for the Seattle region a couple of weeks ago as a raging wind and rain storm downed trees and cut power to hundreds of residents.

In my own little world, chemo had drawn down my white cells to a dangerous level, and I developed a fever. My heroic boyfriend, who was already battling to minimize flooding to our basement, bundled me into his truck and took me to the emergency room at Swedish Hosptial, where I was admitted for neutropenia (low white cell count). I was forbidden to eat (which was fine given the chemo-borne stomach aches I'd had up till then) and given all food, liquids, and antibiotics via IV drip. Oh the fun.

Eventually the fever broke, and my doctor started me on a diet of clear foods and liquids. I did so well with the clear foods that he let me have vague ones. Ha ha. Okay, so being sick has not improved my sense of humor. But I try.

While I languished in the hospital, Seattleites picked up the pieces from the record storm. Many would be without power for days yet to come. We had all been through a lot.

My white cell count has bounced back, and I'm now home and getting stronger. With no chemo scheduled until after Christmas, I'm looking forward to enjoying the holiday. I'm watching my health closely, but if I ever get neutropenic again, I'll think of the words of that old holiday classic:

I’m dreaming of a white cell count
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the lymphocytes blossom
And form a posse
To kill infections as they go.

I’m dreaming of white cell count
With monocytes and neutrophils
Marrow days be healthy and long
And may all your phagocytes be strong.