The first set of results can in this morning, and my dad said “no way these are the numbers,” so they ran them again. Three times. And the numbers are? 18. 19. and 20. According to this lab, I dropped 11 or so points in a week… which is relatively unheard of.

And my albumen jumped to 3.6, from 2.8, another jump that has all the doctors stumped and surprised, and me ecstatic. If it continues to drop at this rate, I could be at a 9 by next week. WooHoo!

I’m less itchy, but I’m told I look the same—it’s a shade issue I suppose.

My dad had them run the tests several times, and tomorrow he wants the sample sent to the lab back home, to see what they come up with… see, to test for bilirubin in blood, they have to use a spectrometer test—i.e., shining light through the serum tail of the blood. Mine was so dark orange/yellow that they diluted it to get a better sample. And they were doing that back home as well, but the docs want to make sure all the machines give the same answer before giving me a definitive number.

For now, 19 and dropping. 🙂 That’s what I’m going with. And I’m ecstatic.

We’ll find out tomorrow the definites, but for now… we party. 🙂

I hope everyone has a lovely day. The Man sent red roses… and a teddy bear. (I think my mom is smitten.) 😉

Thanks baby.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

We cut my hair yesterday. I know that may not seem like a big deal, but it was to me. I had long hair… not super long, but about the middle of my back—maybe a little less—and I really liked my hair. Considering the circumstances I’m in right now (being yellow, itchy and drugged) I probably shouldn’t be vain and care about my hair. But I am and I do.

It’s not super short, but he took off eleven inches (my mom’s hairdresser came to the house) and now it hangs just below my chin. It doesn’t look terrible—everyone says I look like a pixie… but I don’t want to look like a damn pixie. Ever since I got sick I’ve been having trouble with it… it iched on my back and neck, and I was only washing it every three days or so and it was breaking where I kept pulling it up—another sign of the lack of protein. But still.

Oh and I also ate bacon yesterday… first time in years. The Man is happy. My dad’s forcing all kinds of things down me… I have to eat something every four hours, I have to eat a little bit of pure fat every hour or so, etc., etc. He wants my gallbladder to release CCK, which will help clear my colon and move the bile out of my body. It’s working. I feel better than I did yesterday, and light years better than I did three days ago, so that’s good. We find out Tuesday the bilirubin number. My dad thinks that if he is correct in how he is treating me (the food, flaxseed oil, SAMe and other vitamins), I should be at about a 26… and we might be able to get it down to a 12 by next week. It would be a miracle.

My mom caught me up on all the gossip from church today—the one I haven’t been to in years—and it was highly entertaining. Except that I found out my ex got married… and I saw a picture and she’s cute. I’m not still in love with him, and I’m not jealous or really that upset… but I’m a little cranky that he got married before me, even though I’m not ready to get married just yet. It’s the principle of the damn matter. 🙂 You understand.

Oh and we let the cats out today to get acquainted and when they got back in here, Ellie pooped on the linoleum. Typical.

I have one cat who only pees in the catbox—she poops on the linoleum next to it. I’ve tried everything, and after three years, have just accepted that it will always be this way.

Except, apparently, at Grandma’s house, where yesterday, to all of our great and astonished delight, she pooped in the catbox.

There was cheering.

So basically I want to kill myself. The flights yesterday were agony, especially after we learned that the bili is up to 29.7.

It appears I’m hitting record numbers for this. My dad is looking into a new way of treating jaundice, but it’s a) not really for jaundice (it just cleans my blood… eight hours hooked up to a huge IV pulsing from my neck) and b) is only approved for testing in the US….. so Austria or Toronto is the thought.

Maybe.

Short update. My parents got here last night, so now I’ve an IV in one arm that I have to keep straight. My dad is out getting some needed supplies and my mom is on the phone with the airlines trying to book flights for my cats.

My dad explained last night that there is a very real possibility that I won’t get better for 6-12 months. And the truth of the matter is that I can’t take care of myself at all. So I’m going home.

We leave Tuesday. I’ll keep you all updated. Thanks for the well wishes, etc.

So it did go down .3 this week. I’m trying desperately hard to scream and jump out my window… sadly it’s only the second floor, and it won’t kill me.

The specialist had said it could go down a point a day, but apparently my body said “Fuck it, we like being yellow.”

My parents are coming in tomorrow and my dad’s bringing an IV to hook me up to fluids. My mom wants me to go home with them. The prospect of any form of travel.. especially travel that will take 8 hours.. makes we want to hurl. Last week I was adamantly against it. Last week I also thought the bili was going down.

And the stupid albumen level? The one that said I needed more protein? Dropped another .5. After all that damn chicken I ate, it dropped. (It was supposed to go up .5.)

My desire to live has now dwindled to nil.

To the Queen of the Badass Posse, and my star sibling… have a very happy birthday.

May you have a year filled with English delights and lots of good liquor.

;P

OK, so I’m basically still alive because I’m heavily medicated. I have three bottles of pills next to my bed and I take ’em all.. and I’m still, as the coworker put it, miserable.

But I’m having incredibly hysterical dreams—we’re talking doozies here people.

The best one was earlier today. I had a dream about some sort of political dinner that the president was at. His wife was speaking and at the end she said something about this being a lame duck year for the president… or will it be? “C’mon y’all,” she said, “Never say never or give up?”

Bill Clinton was on the one dais (there were two) where she was speaking and before anyone could say anything he said, “Well never say never but…” and then a bunch of gobbledy-gook about healthcare and education (i.e., I don’t remember, but it was profound).

Across the table from him Owen Wilson (no idea where he figures in) interjected to explain what Clinton was saying. Most of the audience then started nodding, but on the other dais, which was across the room, the president had a confused smile on his face.

Luke Wilson nudged Owen and said, “Now you need to explain it to their leader.” It was silent, but you could see people wanted to laugh.

Then I woke up laughing my ass off.

I also had a dream where I challenged Winston Churchill to a drinking competition (I appear to be stupid in my dreams…) and one where my sister and I were acrobats on a ferris wheel.

Ahhh the drugs.

No real update, just wanted to say hi and that I’m still alive.. kinda.

And I’m eating chicken. Lots and lots of chicken. I had forgotten how much I really don’t like the chicken. Sigh. My lab results apparently also said that my protein levels were way too low and they wanted me eating lots of protein.

There are problems with this: a) I’m not eating much of anything and b) what I normally eat for protein (vegetarian over here).. well, the thought revolts me. Fish? Gag. Tofu? Gag. Beans? Gag. Because of the massive amount of bile in my tissues (nice to say out loud, isn’t it? ;P), most foods, unless they are very bland, sound, smell and taste gross. Hence the not eating.

The other problem is that I’m homebound and don’t have giant stores of groceries and protein things lying about.

Enter, the coworker, who not only went grocery shopping for me (buying lots of chicken products), she came and made soup, stripped a rotisserie chicken for sandwiches and hardboiled some eggs. The coworker is a saint. 🙂

Hopefully by next week my lab results will say “oo, she’s eating her protein,” because damn am I eating protein. Chicken soup, chicken salad, chicken sandwiches… I miss my vegetarianism.

And I’m sick of chicken.