Two days ago, in room 7212, University of Washington Hospital, I was nauseated for good reason. I can just hear my stomach talking to me: Stomach talking: "You just allowed lethal doses of Fludarabine and Busulfan to flow through now you want me to eat watermelon!" The watermelon was thrown back. The rest of the day, I fought the nausea until about evening when I gave in and told the nurse I had missed two meals and needed some medication because I had weighed that no food and getting weaker would be worse than more medication. The response was an order for 2.5 mg of Compazine for nausea. O.K. I gave in and received. With the drug, I fell into sleep that was so deep that I don't remember the evening nurse checking in for vitals through the night. I dreamt I was moved sometime during the night, had hallucinations on the insides of my eyelids with my eyes shut. I woke up feeling flattened. I felt so subdued that I seemed to pry inch size pieces of my body, little by little up and into air to be three dimensional.
So. Today, I put the order in for NO, totally no more Compazine though one nurse told me that it was obvious that I was sensitive to the drug but probably not allergic. I have reverted or perhaps moved forward to what Verlen Kruger drilled into me paddling Baja. "You don't have to sleep, it is all in your mind." "You don't have to go to the bathroom, it is all in your mind," he told me. I listened and altered my own reality. Today, in Room 7212, I ordered breakfast and lunch put on headphones with Judi Collins singing and sang along. I totally zoned out with Judi and ate between and along. Yogurt and rice to begin and then chicken salad and chicken noodle soup. I'll paddle/sail away on my own. Hold the drugs.