Detours and needles.....

DETOUR: NOUN

1. A roundabout way or course, especially a road used temporarily instead of a main route.

2. A deviation from a direct course of action.

     Again, I just can’t do it the easy way.  Started with the call to Billy last Sunday night—it went like this:  
Me:  Got a 99.9 fever, am not telling Mom.  Took some Advil, so it should take it down—right?
Bill:  It’s not that bad, but take it and see. 
Me:  Remember, if anything happens to me, I did talk to a doctor so it is not my fault.
Bill:  Okay.

            Well, the fever went to 101 and thanks to normal drugs, not the poison I have been experienceing; it was down to 98 which is good (well in my mind anyway).  I continued to take my normal drugs all day and felt great.  I even told Mom I had a fever but all was good.  Famous last words….  I woke up Tuesday with a fever of 100 and a really guilty feeling of I should have called yesterday.  So I called Susan, who agreed I more than likely masked the fever, but she needed to tell Dr K and would call me back.  She called me back and told me to come on down.  I told her I needed a shower… she told me no—he was only there until noon.  I whined and said it’s not like I have to do my hair… she told me to MOVE IT!  (I took the shower).

            Seeing as Mom was already at her own appointment in Wilmington, I drove myself—as I said before, I did not feel bad at all, however, I did have that I am going back to the 10^th floor feeling.   I go in and get the first blood draw—out of the arm.  And then waited for them to draw from Portia.  I felt good when Susan found me before they drew from Portia.  Mom had just called and she said let’s do lunch (I still had that 10^th floor feeling), but I said okay.   Susan puts me in the office and Dr K comes in and just shakes his head.  I knew.  Automatic admittance is when the white blood count is .5 and I was at a .510.  Whew--- there was a sliver of light….which lasted a mere minute.  He just looked at me and I knew.  I told him I was good with it, understood and then I promised if I got a fever again I would call and not wait.  We talked about my next round and he is going to up the antibiotic as I am crashing so low.   Then Dr K said the most important statement he could have ever said.   “We are going for the cure and I am not reducing the strength of the chemo.”    And that is why I am blessed to have him.   So off I went to Susan, who was calling in my reservation for the 10^th floor just as Mom is walking around the corner thinking we were going to lunch—I set her straight with “I’m not going to lunch, I am going to the 10^th floor.” She took it well. And lucky me, there was a room ready for me so no waiting.  It actually took me longer to find a parking space then it did to check in and get upstairs.  (I was really glad I had driven through Bojangles earlier—little did Susan know… a shower, Bojangles and I still got there in decent time!).

            I was hoping to have Leigh again as my day nurse (and trust me, I realized the next day why I really needed her!!) but it was not to be.  My day nurse shall remain nameless as she tortured me while accessing Portia.  Granted, she had no clue, but I am sure she knows now (thanks to my second day nurse Allison and Leigh who stopped by a few times Wednesday).  She was getting ready to put the needle it and I happened to turn around.  That sucker was huge, nothing like I had ever seen before.  The holy shit was out of my mouth before I could control it and louder than I thought.  I happened to look out my door—which was open for some reason and would you believe some guy with a clerical collar is walking by—but at least he smiled at me.  (I am not Catholic, but I sure felt like confessing). Anyway, she continued with the needle and I will say it hurt like hell.  I whimpered, but did not cry and trust me, I wanted to, but I kept thinking I am bigger than the needle. (Yeah—chemo brain kicked in, as I am NOT bigger than any needle).  Said needle stayed in the entire stay and it hurt the entire stay.  Oh well, on the positive side, as there is a positive side to everything, I only got antibiotics and no fluids, so I did not have  to drag a shadow with me this time—nor did I smell like saline, such a delightful smell.  

            I did forget to pack my still to be named night cap, which caused me a few moments of concern.  I was wearing Lizzie and she was creeping up – talk about high hair. Plus she was getting hot.  Donna, the night nursing assistant was awesome—she found a pediatric gown and I was able to use it.  Okay, it looked hilarious, but it worked and I was happy.  She also tracked down a cherry Italian ice so she was my favorite nursing assistant. 

            Back to Allison, Leigh and that damn needle.  My counts were back to normal by the time Dr K came in at 7:30am and he wanted to wait until the end of the day to make a decision.  Turns out he was waiting for 24 hours for some kind of bacteria test to come back.  He surprised me at 430pm and sprung me.  Good thing too as not only was the needle still killing me, but the lady next door must have been trying to cough up a lung and she always wanted her door open and she complained a lot. (Yes, I heard all of this through my closed door—very annoying).  So Allison and Leigh came in to finish the paperwork and to take out that damn needle.  Leigh sees the needle and freaks--- “why in the world is that huge thing in your arm?”  Ummmm, day nurse put it there… at which point she says to Allison “we need to train her… that is the biggest needle I have seen! “  It figures.

            I have been home a few days and feel great.  The worst I felt this week was in the hospital (amusing if you ask me).  I went back to work for a few hours and actually worked a full day (for a Saturday) and it was great.  I still get tired very easily and I know I over do it at times, but I am also very well aware of when it is time to stop.  This is a “good” week and I am going to take advantage of it.   Next week is round 4 and then it will be downhill from there.  The done light is getting brighter and brighter.   Yes, I am sure there will be more detours, but I am getting better at accepting those.  I wonder when all of this is over if I will revert back to hating those detours or actually find a way to accept and embrace them? Time will tell!

Hebrews 4:16