When you can't sleep at night because your mind is racing, there is nothing better than a pair of canary yellow Playtex Living Gloves and a couple of dirty bathrooms.
Tomorrow is chemotherapy day 1. I've had a lot of bad words swirling in my head that all rhyme with modes of transportation: ship, van and even truck. But, I swore of swearing, so I have to keep it clean. Earlier today I was down and out about having poison injected into my body for two hours, one that kills a lot of healthy cells, but once I started cleaning the bathrooms tonight, I got my mojo back, and thought screw you chemotherapy, you aren't getting the best of me. If needed, I now have a nice clean place to puke in, but guess what, not going to happen. (Are you believing this tough talk?) It seems the more I talk tough to myself, the tougher I feel. We'll see if it lasts through the night and into tomorrow.
Today Justin and I went to the hospital to get blood drawn and meet with a nurse practitioner. I thought we were meeting with this woman to go over the four new medications plus the shot I must give myself. I was expecting her to show me how to administer the shot. Evidently this was not the reason for the meeting. Still, neither of us of clear as to the purpose of this appointment. The nurse practitioner, NP, walked in, introduced herself and then started asking questions off of a list. When she asked if I was sleeping, I said no. She asked if I am taking Adivan to help with sleeping, and I replied yes, but it doesn't help. She moved on to the next question without ever addressing the sleep issue. Both Chubba and I felt that she was a bit arrogant and acted like she was in a hurry. Clearly, she did not get the Mass General Manual on how to treat patients/clients/customers. (I have worked with some nationally recognized surgeons at Mass General that didn't even show a hint of arrogance.) NP began examining me by pushing down on the nodes around my collar bone - ouch! I just had a port-a-cath inserted. I explained this to her, and she wondered why the incision was shiny. I can't believe that she has never seen the clear glue-like substance that is put over stitches. After listening to my lungs, she began pushing on my abdomen. After about four hard pokes, I told her that my stomach is a little sensitive because I recently had a TRAM flap. She was clueless. Obviously she did not read my chart before she came into the room. She was completely unprepared. When I asked her about the phone call I received on Friday from one of her associates regarding one medication that the insurance company is quibbling over with the hospital, she looked at me like I was speaking Latin. She could not find the list of medications in my notes, she had no idea what medications I was taking along with the chemotherapy, so she had to go ask a nurse. The medication is a very important anti-nausea medication that I take up to one hour before the chemo, and two days following. Once again, she was clueless. She never explained the reason for the appointment, and she clearly did not do her homework before she walked into the room. I am going to e-mail my oncologist and ask for another nurse or nurse practitioner. I do not want to meet with NP Clueless again. I have no confidence in her abilities. Wow, this will be number 5 that I have fired. As I have said before, settle for the best.
Tonight, before dinner, Riley came up to my bedroom in tears. She is very worried about me, chemotherapy, getting sick, and how it will affect me. Riley is my sensitive little flower; she maintained a brave face a lot longer that I thought she could. She is going to soccer goalie camp next week in Connecticut, and she is worried about leaving me. I think getting away is exactly what she needs.
My sister called tonight to see if I bought a new pair of shoes for my chemotherapy tomorrow. What a great idea! No wonder she has so many pairs of cute shoes! Since I have four treatments, maybe I should buy a new pair before each appointment. However, I did re-pink my hair. Photo to be posted soon.
My chemotherapy appointment is at 10a.m. tomorrow, Tuesday, July 13. It is a two hour drip. But with this anti-nausea medication snafu, it will probably be a 3-4 hour appointment. It all seems surreal, but it's game on! Keval vs. Chemotherapy.
If religion is part of your life, please say a little prayer for us. If religion isn't your thing, please wish on a big bright star for me - that is, after you make your winning lottery wish. Actually, I'll take one of those lottery wishes too.