Admitted is a polysemous word, or a single word with many definitions. It originates from the Greeks with the root meaning “of many senses”. I’m fairly certain words of this nature, while being a word lover’s dream, are really meant to trip everyone else up. They are part of the reason why the English language is so difficult to learn. You feel like you’ve got a handle on it and boom the word you just learned really means something totally different depending on context. Take admitted for example. I have to admit that I was not looking forward to be admitted for my stem cell transplant. There it is in one sentence, both definitions: 1. a confession of sorts and 2. being permitted to enter a place. In this particular instance, I genuinely dislike both of my options: 1. because I hate to discuss my feelings and 2. because no one wants to enter a hospital and not leave for 30 days (unless it is legitimately a spa for relaxation purposes). And yet my disdain prevented neither.

So here I am, in the hospital and I admittedly feel like I already want to go outside and feel the warm sun on my face. My gigantic bay window doesn’t quite do the job, it only shows me the sun and blue skies. It’s a tease. However, I’m sure I’ll feel differently when the temperature drops back down next week and then I’ll be glad that I don’t have to go outside. I was admitted on Wednesday and my initial welcome didn’t go so well and I had such high expectations after meeting two fabulous nurses who talked wedding planning with me. My first dose of the transplant process was to have a Hickman line put in opposite of my central line port. I was already skeptical of this new line because it was going to be a gaudy accessory, one that was attached to my body with three lumen that dangles externally. The only dangly accessory I like are earrings and this is so not an earring.


Most people undergo the fifteen minute procedure without a hitch, and for one reason or another I seldomly fall in the category of most people. Part of the issue is that I have bad veins, I have had tiny child veins since I was a tiny child. I am a phlebotomist’s worst nightmare. It got even worse after my massive DVT/ blood clot on the left side in September of 2015 when my killer body tried to be literal. I had previously mentioned this incident and was dismissed that it would not cause any complications. Wrong, it did. After trying several times, I ended up with the Hickman on the same side as my other port and three hours worth of sedation in the form of Fentanyl and Versid. When I finally came to, I practically threw up all over my fiancee and my in-laws. Not my finest moment but at least they’re family so it seems more acceptable. Hell my parents have probably seen me throw up numerous times and so have some of my friends after a night of drinking in college (of course these occurrences were few and far in between). My mom probably thought I was drunk when I called her later that night. So needless to say night one, not so great.

I have to admit that I’ve never had a hangover and this was true in this instance as well. Fentanyl and Versid were no match for my schedule. I was up at five, walking the pod as the masked marauder by 6:00 and trying to find things to do, which wasn’t too hard since I brought so much with me. I had my first dose of chemo yesterday, which is part of the conditioning process and consists of Cytoxan and Fludarabine and what feels like 700 other meds to mitigate their effects. So I spend most of the day hooked up to my walking partner, I.V. Pole. We are just getting aquatinted so it may take some time to become simpatico.


I must admit that I’m nervous of what the rest of this process looks like but glad I was admitted to one of the best Cancer Center hospitals in the country. So for now, I’ll go with the flow and keep busy! Steph and I already worked on a crossword puzzle this morning.


14 thoughts on “Admitted”

  1. My only hookup to a pole was when I was in false labor for Josh…the doc thought he’d try an enema to get the ball rolling…it did but me and my pole flew to the bathroom….hahaha glad you’re talking wedding plans!!!!! Xxxooo

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  2. Hang in there babe. You got this! I’m sorry things aren’t going as planned. They never do. Usually they go just the way they have to though. One day at a time. Try your best to stay your beautiful, positive self. Much love from your Berkshire friends coming at you!

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  3. Hey kiddo, just checking in. Thinking about your 18th birthday when I tried to come up with 18 presents but ran out of ideas and I believe one of your gifts was a rubber snake from the dollar store. Good times. You’re always on my mind. XOXO

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    1. Haha I loved all of them even the rubber snake! My soon to be sister in law did something similar for my 30 days of transplant. I can’t wait to open day 0 next Wednesday! Love you! ❤


  4. Oh Krista, I can so relate! I just had my hemodialysis catheter (two pronged) removed from my chest a couple weeks ago. I hated it cause you have to take a sponge bath from the waist up and can only shower your lower half! My veins don’t like needles either, which makes it a tad difficult for dialysis, iv’s or blood tests. I’ve also had 4 surgical procedures in just over a month recently, which is 4 too many in my book! Is the Hickman catheter temporary? My catheter was, thank God. Hope you’ll get through you chemo without too many side effects. Take care and know that we’re with you in spirit! 🙂 Barry & Chris

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    1. Chris I hope you are feeling better and that these 4 surgeries are step toward a full recovery. And thankfully the Hickman is temporary, it will come out before I leave for home! Thanks for the encouragement ❤


  5. So my story doesn’t compare, but it’s kinda funny so here it is. My hubby Chris, aka Sam, aka Boss, aka ” the warden ” went in for a new knee last year. He was pretty nervous that they were going to saw his leg in half (not really) and decided to test everyone else’s nerves. He asked the nurse 👨‍⚕️ Or whatever you call the person poking you with the needles, if she was good at her job. She, of course, became intimidated right away and could not get into a vein. She eventually (after many tries) had to call in reinforcements. By the time they completed their task they were all so rattled that instead of covering the needle holes with the bandaid they put the bandaid over a freckle. This small amusement broke some of our surgery tension. He goes back in a few weeks for knee #2 and I bet he asks the next nurse the same dam thing. That’s my story for today. Get well soon. Your in my thoughts and prayers ❤️

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