Saving Grace

Hey everyone! It's definitely been a while...

Since February, my neutrophils have fluctuated minimally.

My family was able to enjoy their vacation to Hawaii and I was able to facetime them every day. It was tough not being there but I was glad that they could still enjoy the trip. I was torn between wanting to know every detail and not know anything at all.

Although I had to stay at home for most of the break, I was able to surprise my little cousin at her birthday party. This probably wasn't a good idea because children carry a lot of germs, the party was at a hotel swimming pool, and lots of my family was sick, but being the stubborn person I am, my mind was already made up.

At the end of the week, my family's travel plan got a bit messed up when Janay and dad missed their connecting flight and ended up stuck in Vancouver overnight... with the van keys. Mom and auntie made it back to Regina when they were supposed to but they had no way to drive home so I drove to the airport to pick them up. Mom and I finally arrived home around 11:00pm. Everything was supposed to be fine until it wasn't.

I got chilled. I was trembling and shaking. I decided to have a warm bath which didn't do anything except make my chills worse. I started to panic a little bit. Mom covered me up with some blankets in an attempt to get me warmed up but that is when the fever hit. I had been texted Dr. Pearson who had given me detailed instructions on what to do at each temperature rise of the thermometer. With a rising temperature, mom and I decided to pack our bags and go to the hospital.

Mom, being the speedy person she is, decided that she needed to have a shower and get ready before going to the hospital. I, on the other hand, was freaking out because "If I don't get to the hospital in time, I will die". Needless to say, there were some few things yelled back and forth.

When we got to the hospital, I was seen immediately. The protocol is to place an IV then take a bunch of samples of blood. Once the bloodwork comes back, they decide if they are going to give me antibiotics intravenously.

I had been sitting at 0.1-0.3 for the past week. I get blood work done, the results come back, I am at 0.7 which was a big enough jump for me to not need antibiotics. I was free to go home and sleep (at peace, finally).

***

As the days and weeks passed by without much change in my neutrophils, I decided that living under a rock is harming my mental health. I began to resume daily activities, with caution. I was told to avoid sick people, wear a mask (which I didn't), wash my hands, blah blah blah. I did my best and somehow didn't get sick.. for the first while. Then it seemed that I was getting sick with colds every other week. I was prescribed so many different types of antibiotics that all of the names are sounding too familiar, almost as if they are my daily meds.

***
March 18th, 2019. I received a text from Dr Pearson:

"As the low neutrophils are not spontaneously improving and as you are having recurrent infections, I think it's time to check your marrow. This will: a) ensure that it's healthy and b) help us develop a treatment plan to get them up"

I knew this was coming but I wasn't ready for it. I don't think I would have ever been ready for it. But I had to be because I was scheduled to go in three days later on March 21st to have the procedure done.

***

Mom, dad, and I drove into the city the day before to ensure that we were there on time and that I had a good night sleep. 

The next morning, I was instructed to take a Lorazepam and Advil as soon as I woke up. Then we headed to the hospital where I met Dr Pearson.

I have had a lot of needles in my life and I know that I have a high pain tolerance so I figured I would be fine to go in by myself. So I did. First came the freezing needle. Right into my SI joint area. Then came the tears. That needle felt like it was about 10 inches long, stabbing into me, sending pain all the way down my leg into my toes. I texted dad and told him to come in.

I thought to myself, "If I can't handle the freezing needle, how the hell am I going to handle the rest of the procedure?"

My parents came into the room and sat beside me. It felt like the 15-minute procedure was taking forever.

Mom and dad told me after that Dr. Pearson was struggling to get a piece of my bone because my bones were so strong (I guess drinking all that milk pays off). They told me that he had sweat dripping off his forehead because he was 'drilling' so hard. What was supposed to only take 15 minutes ended up taking closer to 45 minutes.

I remember telling Dr Pearson that the lorazepam wasn't working because I wasn't relaxed or falling asleep. He assured me that my adrenaline was too high and that I would get through it.

The rest is a blur. I am not sure if I have amnesia from the adrenaline of the procedure or what exactly happened to my memory. Apparently, we walked to Dr Pearson and Denise's office to give them gifts. We also apparently went out for pizza. When I got home, my friend Taryn came over to visit. I ha
ve no memory of any of this.

I vaguely remember waking up in the van and sitting up, realizing that the freezing had worn off. My memory is spotty for the next little while.

What I do know is that my pain was outrageous for several weeks. I couldn't even dress myself for the first little while. I was completely dependent on my family.

Finally, after a couple of weeks of waiting, my results came back. My bone marrow was healthy meaning that I did not have cancer.

My neutropenia was autoimmune.

***

The results of this procedure also showed that my thyroid levels were abnormal. I was diagnosed with Hypothyroidism and put on medications that I will be taking for the rest of my life. This diagnoses made sense and completely lined up with the way I had been feeling.

***

Since March/April, my health has remained quite stable. I go for bloodwork often to keep tabs on my levels and I am in constant communication with my hematologist and doctors. I am so beyond thankful to be in such good hands.

***

On another note, I have moved to Lethbridge to continue my post-secondary education. I accepted my offer at the end of January, just before my health crashed again. This time, I wasn't going to stay home - I was going to work through it, and if I'm being honest, it has not been easy.

I love Lethbridge - the atmosphere, the people, the location. It is beautiful here. We live in a wonderful place, close to the university and close to a park where we have been able to go for walks and play frisbee golf.

Moving 10 hours from home to a place I had never been before was tough. I had to say goodbye to my family, friends, and pets knowing that I wouldn't see them for a couple of months. My closest relatives are roughly four hours away.

In addition to moving here, I have decided to take a full course load (5 classes) which I haven't done since my first semester of university before my health failed me. The change of pace has been both refreshing and draining. I love school and learning but I need a break. Reading week cannot come soon enough.


I am struggling to cook, clean, keep up with homework and study while trying to find time for myself. There are only so many hours in a day to get everything done. My biggest struggle right now is trying to get enough sleep. I know that this sounds like a lazy millennial complaining but sleep is SO essential to my health. If I don't get enough sleep, everything starts to spiral downward. I have missed a few classes of university just to sleep in or to go home and nap. As hard as it is for me to do, I have to make sacrifices to stay above water - my health comes before my schooling.

Honestly, university is tough for me right now. From not being able to understand my professors to struggling with exams, I'm not passing with flying colours. I feel that the effort I am putting in isn't being reflected which is discouraging but I have to keep reminding myself that I can get through it.

"A pass is a pass"

***

Finally, Taffy.

About a week before I was leaving for university, I stopped at my grandma's house to
check on the newborn kittens. I noticed that one wasn't thriving but I had to go photograph a wedding so I texted mom to check in on it. Later that night, I was driving back home and I had a gut feeling that we should go check on the kittens one more time. So, at 10:00pm, I drove to grandma's house. In the shop, I could only find one kitten. In the distance, I heard a little noise. I climbed around to find a cold, lifeless little kitten laying all alone on the cement floor. I picked it up and it squirmed a little bit. It was alive.

I ran into the house with the kitten, not knowing what I had gotten myself into but refusing to give up. Grandma didn't think that she would make it but I said, "If she doesn't make it, at least I can say that I tried".

We warmed up a bean bag and laid her on it to try to get her warmed up. Once her temperature was back up, we gave her some kitten milk in an eyedropper.

Grandpa made an impromptu incubator for the kitten and I took her home.

I walked into my house with the kitten and announced to my parents:

"So... I did a thing"

Dad was clearly not impressed but mom, who rescued five kittens herself when she was younger, was eager to help. That night, mom and I took shifts with the unsettled kitten. I spent the next day googling how to take care of a newborn kitten and reaching out to support groups. I drove to the vet to pick up some supplies. We had been told by many different sources that the survival rate of kittens this young was really low. I didn't care. I was going to do everything I could.

We spend the next few days bottle feeding, stimulating her to go to to the washroom, bathing her, and warming her up. It was a full-time job.

 After the rough first night, I was anxious about how the rest of the nights would go. But, to our surprise, she decided to sleep right through all of the following nights.

I got attached really quickly to the little kitten that I named Taffy.

Our dilemma: Taffy needed to be bottle-fed for approximately 6 weeks, requiring around the clock care. I was moving to Lethbridge in a week and had signed a lease that stated that no pets were allowed.

I knew that we were going to have to give her up but the more time I spent with her, the harder it was. I decided to text our landlord about our situation. After a couple days of waiting for his response, he called me to let me know that he and his wife were okay with me bringing her to Lethbridge with me.

We knew that this was going to be a huge responsibility. We had to somehow manage school with mothering this kitten. Luckily, the way all of our schedules worked out, Taffy only had to be home alone in the morning for an hour or two. Because she would wake up at 7am every single morning, it gave us enough time in the morning to take care of her, get ready for school, and put Taffy back to sleep for her morning nap. Fortunately, she would sleep the entire time we were at school.

Taffy has grown like a weed. She is 8 weeks old and weighs about 2 lbs. She is strong and healthy. She loves to play and spend time with us. She is spoiled rotten and really bad (like any kitten). We love her so much.

Personally, animals have been amazing for my mental health. I have always wanted a pet that could be with me through these years of my life. I have put up many arguments to my family, trying to convince them that I should be able to get a pet. I feel as if the situation with Taffy was fate. I didn't decide one day that I was going to adopt a pet. She was put in my path, or maybe I was put in hers. Either way, we needed each other. If I hadn't been in the right place at the right time, she wouldn't be alive right now. She is truly my saving grace.

***

Things I have learned:

1. It is okay to not be okay
2. New adventures are wonderful for the soul
3. Somethings are just meant to be
4. Animals truly are the best thing for my mental health
5. Everything will turn out in the end
6. I am a damn good cook when I want to be but I hate cooking

Now... back to studying!

Your not-so-fragile friend,
Tianna