Sunday, December 4, 2011

"Wow, this round isn't treating you well, is it?"

You know it's bad when you walk into your doctor's office, and the first staff member that meets you takes one look at you and says, "Wow, this round isn't treating you well, is it?" First thing in the morning, I had my Neulesta shot at Dr. Tepler's office yesterday. There was a mix up when I left Friday after my chemo with scheduling my follow up shot, so it was delayed. My daughter, who was still sick, was with me, and Diane, the nurse, came out to bring me to the back. She put one arm around my shoulders, pulled me in, looked me in the eye and said, "Wow, this round isn't treating you well, is it?" I smiled and said, "No, how'd you know?" She sat me down and told me she could see it in my face.

Despite wearing my wig, my Mary Kay, etc, the exhaustion I'd been experiencing all weekend came through. I looked stiff, my eyes were red, and I guess it was just apparent through my smiles and jokes. I shook my head and she asked me to tell her what was going on.

I told her about the pain after the Aloxi, and the fact that there was still green swelling on my right hand. Even before the Neulesta shot, which is notorious for making bones ache, my joints felt terrible. I was bloated, with heartburn, so tired, and experiencing blurry vision. I felt scrambled and run down. I had no focus. I was just off.

The Neulesta shot done, and I went out to the reception area to book my follow up with Dr. Tepler. Bonnie, the scheduler, looked at me smiling at the desk and said, "This round isn't treating you well, is it?" I looked around - was I wearing a billboard? I was smiling. I was giggling. I was trying.

My daughter had wandered off a bit waiting for me and she came back to get me. I realized that time had dragged on, and I didn't have enough time before my appointment with Dr. Nordberg for a fill to go back to the office, so we headed to the hospital cafeteria. I had to get in touch with the anesthesiologist to get the name of the protocol he used on me (paravertebral block) because a friend of mine wanted to know for her mother. Sure enough, as we're sitting at the table, Dr. Park, the anesthesiologist, walked into the cafeteria. We had a quick chat, which included, "I hope you're feeling better," even though I hadn't said I wasn't feeling well.

After a small excursion, we headed back to the Jeanne S. Rich building to Dr. Nordberg's office and sat in the waiting area. Theresa, Dr. Nordberg's assistant, was out, so he was handling his own front desk duties. Dr. Nordberg came out to call me in, took a look at me and said, "Wow, this round isn't treating you well, is it?"

I was now suspicious that I was being punked. But, without much ado, Dr. Nordberg declared that there would be no fills, as he wanted to see me feeling better. I was a bit disappointed, as with every week without a fill, that delays the final reconstruction a bit, but I've learned not to expect any of this process to stick to any kind of timeline.

So, the bottom line? I guess this round isn't treating me well.

1 comment:

  1. Wondering "Is this really that important to me?" is the kind of thing that will sneak up on you at various times, no matter what. When you've found your life is literally involved, it's almost inevitable that you'll want to reshuffle your perspective on things. Maybe you remember the cartoon at the Bevans's of the two devil's assistance hauling the guy away. The caption was, "It's not that you were a bad person, you just made some bad choices." Or, as Dick Gregory used to say, "We all got problems."


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