I was in the hospital for 7 days...or "where I've been"

So, 15 days ago I wrote that I was fine. I was recouping from my surgery and getting good advice from doctors and some nurse friends. But then I started vomiting - like - projectile vomiting and I couldn't sleep or get comfortable. Eventually, Shawn called my GI guy and he said to go to the emergency room.  Yes, here I was on Wednesday morning hearing that I should (as a cancer patient) not go anywhere near a hospital, and I'm sitting in a room in the ER getting ready for a PET scan.

I'm pretty sure I went in April 1st. The best of all Fool's Days.

It turns out that the Pet scan area is the hot place in the hospital - this is how they diagnose pneumonia, I think. You can click on this picture and see the nurses very geared up for against covid.

From my scan, we found out that I had an abscess and needed emergency surgery to repair the blockage I'd developed from my previous surgery. My doctor was hoping that it could all be laparoscopic - that little robot surgery - but once he began, he realized that he would have to open me up and the surgery took 3 hours.

It was pretty awful.

But the worst part was being totally alone. Shawn couldn't stay or help or even come to visit. It was just me and the nurses (sweet, sweet girls).

I was in the hospital until yesterday. We all had to wear masks and it was a big, open ghost town waiting for all of the Covid patients that were promised to come. It wasn't scary, but it was really, really, strange.

Now, I am incredibly grateful to be home and I'm working hard to recover so that I can go back to chemo. Because Cancer always follows.