Hospital stays, diagnosis', and other 'fascinating' information

So, just to get things right, I went to Jimmy for verification on my hospital stays as well as some of what went on during my 35 day stint when my brain decided to check out for a while.
Initial Stay For Transplant - March 25 thru April 8 (also had stomach surgery on March 29th)
Home - on April 8, ER on April 9
April 11 - Routine bronchoscopy (I must have one of these periodically to check my lungs for rejection or infection).  This time I had pneumonia and was put back in the hospital.
April 16 (would have been Diane's 57th birthday) -  home
April 19 - Back in hospital with uncontrollable vomiting.
May 23 - Home (I will give you the complete story of this stay later in the post/blog).
May 31 - Back in hospital with pancreatitis which, by the way, is the most painful thing I have ever experienced and I had natural child birth.  I was not allowed to eat or drink the 3 weeks I was suffering from this horrific illness.  For reasons I will discuss later, I was given morphine for pain instead of dilaudid which works much better, so the pain was pretty intense.
April 19 - HOME!!!  So far, for good!

During my 35 day stint, I was diagnosed with Mono, Epstein Barre, Histoplasmosis, VRE, CDIF, as well as had extremely high createnin levels (they talked about putting me on dialysis); I was vomiting, having migraines, had extremely low blood counts including a white cell count of .7; I had two blood transfusions, was not eating (I lost almost 60 pounds since March 25), and became confused and disoriented. 

I don't remember a lot of what occured during this time period.  Jimmy has filled me in on some, but not all.  He said it is good that I can't remember everything as it would just upset me.  At some point, I will ask him to tell me everything because it makes me uncomfortable not knowing.  What I do know is, I saw many doctors during this time to try to determine what was wrong (and there were various things wrong at different times).  My regular doctors who visited me daily were Dr. Allan Ramirez (Pulmonologist and the Transplant Lead); Dr. Victor Van Berkel (my surgeon who stands about 6' 7"); and Dr. Milo (Infectious diseases specialist).  In addition, I had visits frm Dr. Moffett; Dr. Moore; Dr. Jameel; Dr. Kondrapennini; Dr. Perez; and at least one other doctor who attempted to treat my migraines, but we don't have a record of her name.
Each day, any combination of these doctors would come in and quiz me:  What's your name; date of birth; today's date; where are you?  What's your husband's name? kids names?   I became so frustrated every time a doctor walked in that I would tell them to look at the board on the wall behind them if they wanted to know the date or my name.  I hated seeing them come through the door (except Dr. Milo and Dr. Van Berkel - they were the only two that didn't question me).  Apparently, one or more of the medicines they were giving me for pain or nausea had effected my thought processes and caused me to forget things and become moody and unpredictable.  Some days I refused to take my medicine.  One day I couldn't remember Jimmy's name or some of my kids' names.  Most days I didn't know what day it was; I thought I had been in the hospital for two weeks and it had been a month.  One of the meds made my vision so blurry that I couldn't read or watch tv.
I also suffered bad headaches.  Jimmy would get to the hospital around 9:00 am and stay until 9:00 pm or so depending on my condition.  I apparently wouldn't let him turn on the lights or watch tv because it hurt my head, so he would sit for 12 hours with nothing to do but watch me sleep or try to carry on an erratic conversation with me.  The doctors weren't certain that the confusion would ever get better - they told Jimmy it may be permanent if they couldn't figure out what was causing it.  I became dependent on dilaudid; every time I woke up, I would ask when I could have another shot.  On top of that, I was getting hydrocodone tablets every 4 hours and phenegran (by injection) every 4 hours.  I was so drugged that I couldn't get out of bed by myself. 
My step-kids came in the day before mother's day to visit and I barely remember them being there; Michelle, my daughter-in-law, said I looked like an elderly woman in a nursing home.  My mouth was drawn, my eyes sunken and had lost so much weight that I looked skeletal.  They only stayed a few moments and Jimmy took them to the cafeteria to tell them what had been going on and how concerned he and the doctors were about my condition and recovery.
I wouldn't let Jimmy watch the Derby because the tv hurt my eyes.  I got mad at him once and refused to take my meds so he had to call the nurse.  She had him leave and within 10 minutes went out to tell him I had taken my meds and he could go back in.  I don't know what she did, but I guess it worked.  I also refused to do physical therapy or occupational therapy.  I still mostly let them do my pulmonary rehab because I could lie in bed for that.  I refused to eat much of the time because I was afraid I would get sick so they threatened a feeding tube.  I had to undergo a spinal tap and a bone marrow biopsy.  The tap was not a big deal but the biopsy was terribly painful.  Jimmy and my best friend since childhood, Jeanine, were with me.  The doctor who performed the biopsy said she would sedate me but did not and the pain was nearly unbearable.
They finally determined what meds were making me sick and took me off several things.  I slowly started feeling better, but to this day still suffer some effects from that month in the hospital.  I don't remember things from one minute to the next and can't always think of a word I want to use.  Hopefully that will improve.
Several days before they sent me home, they sent me to the nicer room thinking maybe a change of scenery would help me recover.  It didn't really improve my condition, but gave me some interesting hallucinations that you read about in my earlier post.  They finally sent me home to finish recovering because there was nothing else they could do for me in the hospital.  Being at home with Jimmy and my kids and being able to sleep in my own bed did wonders for my recovery.
I had another biopsy several weeks ago and it revealed moderate rejection.  I had to undergo three days of strong doses of iv steroids which, hopefully, corrected the rejection.  I go back on August 15th for another biopsy, so wish us luck! 
Thanks for continuing to read my blog - I hope it's not too boring.  Again, any feedback you can provide is appreciated.
Love to you all,
Becky