Yesterday was Day 9 (historically the day I come down with a bladder infection/UTI). Sure enough, late in the afternoon, the all-too-familiar burning sensation started. Rather than going to an Urgent Care on Sunday, I opted to wait until this morning and go to MD Anderson. (It's their preference to be the only people who treat me, and it was just a 12 hour delay for me.)
So, this morning, I rolled out of bed and Jude and I headed down to MD. Four hours later, after much peeing in a cup, giving blood samples, and literally being poked and prodded, we are on our way home. Armed with another mystery bacterial infection diagnosis (they blame it on the chemo, so I do, too) and a week of antibiotics, here we go into week two...
The super awesome and funny part of the day? As my sweet young nurse was doing my vitals, she looked down at me and asked if I was eating/drinking enough. (The answer: I am ALWAYS drinking enough, but the mouth sores make it hard to swallow. .... Also, Jo insists that I am eating like a bird. ... So, no, I'm probably not eating enough.)
She stopped to ask if that was normal for my blood pressure (107/77). I assured her that it was. Then she left and came back and pressed a chocolate Ensure into my hand.
And that, my friends, is when you know you're officially frail - when a nurse looks at you and then hands you an Ensure.
Officially frail, hopefully only halfway to decrepit.