This is Saturday, the weather is beautiful and I want to be planting my flowers, laying the flowerbeds, etc. However, I can't, not now. I don't have any energy. I went to Wal-mart to get stuffneeded for surgery, came home and cried because I was too tired. Sleeping doesn't solve this kind of tired. My bones ache and hurt from the Primaxin. I was bumped up to 1.5 grms per 6 hours. This sucks! NO really total sucks!

The side effects outweigh the benefits at this point. Labs were ran last monday wbc 12.2 not bad sed rate came down one notch to 7 but then on Friday wbc is 48.9. The primaxin is not working, the bug may have already become antibiotic resistant and I still have to have surgery Monday!

Can anyone say: Chicken, balk, ba-blak, Chicken!

I can! I am so scared I couldn't even remember what I needed once I got to Wal-mart.  Everything feels so hard today.

I slow down and try to take one thing at a time so much to get done before the surgery ( it will be much easier to do it now, than later) at least that is what I think.

This will be my 104th operation. I was joking this morning when I met the docs at the hospital for the pre-surgery conference, I looked at the ortho surgeon and said, "Couldn't you just implant a zipper this time?"

At least they all chuckled. What is really hard is being out of options. My grochoun (chest shunt) is infected they will change it out Monday during surgery. The option that breaks my heart, is now I may not be able to solve this infection without amputating my leg above the knee.

I don't consider this bad.Compared to what I have been through the last 10 years, an amputation may give me back my life and quality of life with it. I cry because I wanted to do everything within my power to make sure this infection did not reoccur. I think I accomplished that for the most part.

I changed what I washed with. I got better. I changed what I did my laundry with, I got better. I changed what I ate, which foods I combined, limited any sugers of any kind to help make sure that candidia which is a bacteria that naturally grows on everyones skin, did not become another MRSA blowup. I quit wearing make up or jewelry of anykind. I quit using any kinds of household chemicals, and all of this made me better--for awhile.

I think what bothers me is know what this journey consists of. I don't want to have to do it again. This hospital stay, (boy do I get crabby with the staff), I hate, positively hate isolation.

I hate the white walls. What are the hospital thinking? Don't that get that if they want the patients to feel better, bring colors, gentle colors into their rooms. Don't they realize that colors touch us in those hard and impossible places and bring us back to a point of hope and dreaming! Perhaps one day someone's light bulb will start blinking!