It's not easy to sleep in a hospital, between the vital sign checks, blood draws, and chatter in the hall. I generally fall asleep around 10:30 and am awakened between 2:00am and 4:00am. There have been a few nights I've fallen back asleep. A few. On most, I lie awake in the semi-dark, thinking.
Once the sun rises, sometimes I fall back asleep. But that is when the "brigade" arrives. First comes the guy who empties the linens container. Then the guy who changes the Biowaste box. The woman for the regular garbage arrives next. Then the man with the mop. Then the woman with the mop. (I keep meaning to ask why the mopped floor needs to be mopped.) The nurse checks my vitals and lets me know if I'll need any transfusions during the day, based on the earlier blood draw. And finally, the nurse's assistant enters with the scale and forces me to get out of bed, just in case I'm not awake yet.
In vain, I try to sleep through this brigade. This morning, I almost offered to mop the floor for a third round myself. My nurse had come in and handed me my lab results, with the white blood cell count line highlighted yellow. IT POPPED!!! The level went from 0.4k yesterday to 0.8k today. If it's above 1.0k tomorrow, with the needed Neutrophils, I will be able to go home. I am so excited!
Just yesterday I was feeling so discouraged and worrying about what would happen if there was no pop. I was trying my best to stop the negative thoughts and have a good attitude. All that anxiety, and one day later, the count doubles. All that worrying for nothing. This is a perfect example of why I cannot let this disease play mind games with me.
Now we wait to see what my WBC is tomorrow morning. Surely that is what I will be thinking about as I lie in the dark, waiting for the brigade.