Nadir

My doctor was surprised when I told her I know the definition of Nadir. It’s one of those odd words you wouldn’t use often unless you were trying to be a word snob. “She has reached the nadir of her relationship with that horrible man!”  I’m a lover of words, so yes, I knew it.

Nadir.  It means lowest point, lowest level, all time low, rock bottom.  In Chemo terms it means you’ve reached the lowest point of your red and white blood cells and platelets.  When you are in your Nadir you are at risk for infection, bleeding and anemia. It’s the time one must be vigilant about their environment and contact with others.

I’m told I’ll be in Nadir soon, but to start living as though I am in Nadir now as my life depends upon it.  I’m told to avoid anyone with a known infection, as well as young children, also known as little germs. I cannot pick up dog poop, clean house (stirs up dust and other particles) or do any type of gardening.  I cannot eat uncooked vegetables or fruit that cannot be peeled, for example grapes. No sushi. No fresh cut flowers. This is all tough for someone who loves to cook, eat, walk the dogs, garden and have gatherings with friends. For someone super OCD about a clean house.

I’m learning new ways of taking care of myself. I no longer give hugs and the double cheek kiss. My new way of hugging is to cross my arms and hug myself. My nurses installed a “cleaning station” outside our front door with antibacterial hand sanitizer for all who enter to use. We have an air purifier on full time and an iRobot Roomba cleaning each morning. Along with Nina, who cleans every other week. The pups got a major groom and will get brushed every other week for fear of dirt particles they may drag in from the garden. So many considerations, but I’m hoping we have all the bases covered.

Nadir. So many implications for such an odd little word.