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October 26th, 1999 the final dose of lethal chemotherapy was given to kill all my cells, good and bad. Only then can the stem cells be transplanted. I was given anti-nausea drugs and felt lucky I only threw up once. I was monitored as my blood counts plummeted to zero! I was a close to dead as possible without killing me!!!! Because my counts were so-o-o low I was forced to stay in the apartment. I could have no contact with anyone other than my caretaker, Betty Thelin. A few days later a fever erupted suddenly. Betty took me to triage at the clinic. I cried when I was admitted to the hospital. It became a very lengthy three week stay to save my life! There was a potty chair next to my bed at all times for the diahrea . Nothing touched my lips for three weeks, no food, no water. I was fed intravenously through snaking tubes surrounding my bed. My tongue peeled off layer after layer. The callouses on my heels peeled off like a perfectly peeled orange. A morphine drip was also set up for pain management. I had access to a clicker. When the pain was too much to handle I clicked a button and morphine would pour into my system.

Betty Thelin went home to Oregon to be with her family. She wasn’t needed as long as I was in the hospital. Vanity seemed so unimportant when I was fighting for my life so my wig remained in a drawer. I remember Melanie Keene and Annie Bork coming to visit me on my birthday, November 3rd. She said later that she was very shocked when she saw how ill I looked. She did not let me know that until later, however. My friends Beverly Anderson and Cindy Boswell came also and Beverly wrote loving words on the white board in my room.

“We love you Julie!”

I enjoyed such tremendous support and love from my friends and family. It helped in my struggle to get well.