It all started sometime after midnight Friday morning. I was wide awake for no apparent reason. The house was quiet and Chris was sleeping soundly next to me. Rather than disturb Chris by turning on the TV, or booting up my computer, I played a few games of Scrabble on my phone, hoping that I'd be able to fall asleep soon. After an hour, I gave up and got myself a glass of water.
Five minutes after returning to bed I found myself being propelled across the room, madly trying to make it to the bathroom before I started vomiting. Aside from being thirsty, I couldn't say that I was feeling unwell. I was sick six times before 5am.
Earlier in the day, I'd had lunch with a friend that I hadn't seen since the first transplant. I could only assume that I had food poisoning since I hadn't run a fever or felt badly all day. Since he had the same meal as I did, I could only hope he was fine.
I threw up once more around 8am and was miserable. Life after transplant is sometimes a vicious cycle where you're constantly trying to stay hydrated because you know you'll feel horrible if you don't. For me, dehydration leads to nausea. Each time I took a sip of water, I'd throw up within minutes. I spoke with my transplant nurse and she advised that I try to get any liquid down. I managed two glasses of soda before my stomach started to heave. It stayed down, but just barely.
The rest of the day was spent under the covers drifting in and out of sleep. Occasionally, Sookie would come lay next to me, rubbing her face against my hand, hoping for a good scratch. Chris got home around 3pm and brought me a bowl of soup and some crackers. I managed to keep it down and felt much better for it.
I'm feeling a little closer to normal and hope to put this week behind me with no more incidents. My plate is full next week with doctor's appointments and business as usual.