The Wearing and Tearing

I carefully make sure the thermometer reads below 98*, and put it under my tongue and wait. For those few minutes I am in suspense. It's not the suspense of unwrapping a present. No not at all. This suspense seems to wear away at the insides. Some history here might help put this in perspective. With the leukemia my immune system is compromised. I can not fight off the things I used to be able to fight off. I have been told repeatedly, lectured many times, and admonished over and over again, to watch the temperature. IF IT GOES OVER 100.4 GET TO MDA EMERGENCY. NO IFS, ANDS, OR BUTS. On 2 occasions that has happened. I have ended up in the ER and been hospitalized with infections of unknown origins. These symptoms usually start with a cold or the flu or a virus. Those were not good memories. The last infection happened on the day Josh died. I had had chemo that week and we were all together in Dallas because Josh's condition had deteriorated so badly. That Sunday morning he died. I had not been feeling well and had been vomiting. By the time we got back to Houston I began to get worse. I went to bed and woke up with a fever. That was "the Deputy escorted trip" to MDA at night and the hospital stay that had, the heart wrenching grief of losing Josh, and my own illness, all mixed up together and  I was trying to get better so I could be at his funeral with the Dr. allowing me to go home with IV antibiotics that I would administer at home and was still doing the day of Josh's funeral.
                                                                                

 All of those associations are there. Lately I have had some cold symptoms. So I'm taking my temperature. The Bounty from the last blog is now doing double duty for nasal as well. I am taking my temperature frequently. I am monitoring for chills and sweats. I had felt chilled earlier in the evening and used a heating pad when I went to bed. About midnight I began to warm up and toss back the blankets. I was feeling warm. Almost sweaty. Now I'm AWAKE. The real test is my temperature.  So as I try to read the thermometer I feel the suspense. In that moment, maybe not consciously, but felt none the less, is all of that emotion of Josh's dying, my having cancer, and my always being at risk of an infection that could kill me.  As I roll the thermometer I see the temp. 98* and not a bit higher. I exhale. In that 5 minutes a lot of emotion just bowls right on through and that's the wear and tear of the disease. CANCER SUCKS AND IT CHANGES EVERYTHING.