Sandi, poseymint, mrsb04, momto3boys, and dru. Your psychological and experiential support have been blessings on my heart. Thanks from its depths.
First off - the Sjogrens. In the dry atmosphere of the hospital, my mouth was desert-dry, cottony feeling. Often, I'll wake in the night and my eyelids won't slide over my eyeballs so I can open them. Sort of the same feeling as when you wear contacts too long and they stick to the orb. It's a diagnosis I won't pursue seriously yet, but may mention to the GP I'll be seeing next week. There's certainly a lot more to that disorder than I ever imagined. Thing that scares me most is losing teeth. Mine are ugly and old, but they're thankfully still attached to my head, and I have always intended to keep them as long as they're useful.
I'll try keeping this succinct, but fair warning - that's not how I usually roll. Guess you've noticed.

On the evening of the second Rituxan infusion, Tuesday the 15th, Fever spiked to 102.5 and only got worse. NSAIDs didn't touch it; it stayed between 100.5 and 103.2 day and night. Joint pain set in on Thursday p.m. Rash on my legs appeared to be petechiae, but I later learned my count had never been below 170 during that time. Could barely move a muscle, couldn't turn in bed, couldn't fasten clothes. Rash changed in appearance, becoming redder and 'puffier'. Lymph nodes in neck and head swelled. When I began to vomit on Sunday night, I went to urgent care. They gave me one liter of fluid, drew blood, did a flu swab, gave me anti-nausea med. The morning dawned no better, so I went to ER. They took me right in based on my dreadful appearance. Spent one night on the oncology floor. After BP tanked, I was sent to ICU for the next two days. I'm going to try to find out what that fateful BP was, but I seem to recall systolic low 70s, diastolic perhaps 50 or lower.
ICU is a nightmare in this hospital. No sleep for the coma-less. The wedding gowns, the vacations, the shopping, the baby-making, kids or not ... All subjects of intense debate among the nursing crew at 3 a.m. while I'm potentially dying without any sleep whatsoever or ever having anyone asking after my needs for hours . It's the only part of my 6-day stay that I deemed completely intolerable, and I lodged a formal complaint.
The official diagnosis for these three days - serum sickness and hypovolemia dehydration.
The morning after discharge, I woke to intense vertigo, weakness, retching, and diarrhea. I attributed the latter to all the bags of antibiotics I hadn't needed in the first place. The others were so intense, DH and I couldn't begin to wrestle me into the car to get back to the hospital, so we called 911. That issue turned out to be apparently unrelated BPV. A brain MRI didn't show anything serious. I was given anti-emetics, no more fluids (thank the lord!), and valium for the vertigo. Never heard of that drug for that condition, but it's apparently "a thing". I have a walker for the continuing unsteadiness, but it seems to be slowly improving. I don't plan on inviting "Mr. Walker" to my 4th of July BBQ.
My nightmares have mostly gone, my fingers are again connected with my brain, and I can complete a sentence without drifting off to sleep. Feeling a lot better, but still not "well" - and a lot wiser for this experience. Never, ever again will I turn my gut feelings off. I knew years ago that this drug would be a bad idea for me, but I trusted the doc's word that it would be fine. Never again.
The hugest irony of all? My count is now over 400 without having NPlate for two weeks. Ask me if I think it was worth it.