X’s dad, girlfriend C and her two sons, J and B had planned a trip to Florida for Christmas and New Years. They had invited X to come with them, permitting it was ok with his doctors. X had made it a goal for himself to feel as good as possible so he could go with them. He also had to do a lot of convincing to the doctors to let him leave so far from the hospital. Realistically, X shouldn’t have been thinking about taking such a risk just after his stem cell transplant, but he did it anyway.
After the transplant procedures, X had been taking a little powder blue morphine pill to wean himself off of all the morphine he’d pumped into his system at the hospital. Each day he’d take doses of morphine to subside any withdraw effects. If he did not take his pill, he’d be sick within hours.
The travel down to Florida had been uneventful. A typical short jaunt from the Milwaukee airport. X was transported around by his family in a wheelchair to compensate for the long airport terminals. They’d stayed at an incredible timeshare condominium where they could see a large pool and jacuzzi from the deck. There was a kitchen and several bedrooms, the master bedroom had a whirlpool tub in the room.
They’d spent a lot of time at the pool. X had taken a little sun on his white skin to try and feel inner warmth again. He’d also wanted to air out after spending so much time in the hospital. It was just a few short days after arriving that X began to feel extremely fatigued and nauseated again. He couldn’t eat or drink anything. He’d woken up one morning and tried to drink a glass of orange juice. As soon as it hit the back of his throat he vomited. He tried eating everything and anything imaginable, only to have it come right out of him again. The family had gone to a theme park one day. X had insisted on going because he didn’t want to be party pooper back at home. They’d rolled him into the park and they had fun looking at different places. Despite the warm weather, X had worn a fleece pullover on top of his Hawaiian shirt and two pairs of pants because he’d had the chills so bad.
They’d decided to wait in line for one of the many rides you can take at the park. This one in particular was an adventure truck that takes you twisting and turning, throwing your body in all directions. After strapping myself into the chair of the ride, he’d known it was probably not a good idea to have gone. The ride began and X quickly felt like vomiting. Because he had nothing in his stomach, there was nothing to worry about, but he still gagged, shutting his eyes and waiting for the ride to be over. During the adventure, X closed his eyes, feeling as though he’d faint at any moment as his cold, weak body was thrashed from one movement to the next. X had made it through the ride, and he was happy to be back in the security of the wheelchair again afterwards. His battery kept diminishing more and more. By the end of the long day, which should have been fun and entertaining, X had been in the depths of profound fatigue.
Because X couldn’t eat or drink anything, he’d stopped taking his pills, all of them, including his powder blue morphine pill. He tried all the time to get them to stay down in his stomach, but no sooner than he swallowed, he’d vomit them up again. He tried everything to get it down, but nothing worked. One tiny sip of water would induce vomiting. Not taking his morphine was the worst thing X could have done in his condition. His body had immediately gone into withdraw which made everything so much worse. Internally, he’d felt like he’d been put into a deep freezer. He could not get warm. His skin was white as chalk and clammy to the touch. Huge black circles hung below his sunken eyes. His fatigue felt like one step away from unconsciousness, then death. He was in really rough shape. Then it was New Years Eve.
He’d stayed back at the condominium while the family had gone out for dinner. He was not capable of going anywhere. X sprawled out on the couch, flipping through channels showing different New Year’s events. His mind wandered. He’d thought about what was happening in his life. He’d felt so close to death. He’d wondered if he’d be around for the next New Year. He wasn’t sure anymore. Because he had the cold shakes so bad, he made himself a hot bath in the whirlpool tub. He hadn’t stayed long in the water because the heat had made him even more sick and exhausted. He vomited several times. Nothing but rank yellow bile was all that was left inside him. Then, just dry heaving. It was a pitiful action by his body to try and get rid of something that caused it harm.
He’d stayed up until the ball dropped, then had gone immediately to bed. The next morning X and his family called the hospital back home. His nurse had instructed him to get fluids immediately. He also needed a blood transfusion. X’s dad called various clinics in the Orlando area until he’d found one that was covered by his insurance. They left hurriedly to get hooked up to a fluid bag.
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