When I started this blog, I promised to be as real as I could with it in sharing my journey along way. One of the things I have talked about the most is the fatigue that comes with not only the cancer itself, but with the cure. And right now I’m in the Bermuda Triangle of Fatigue coupled with the Catch-22 of not sleeping well. FATIGUE is the most common problem cancer fighters face, no matter hwat your version of the illness, there is this big dude named Fatigue waiting in a dark corner to club you with his baseball bat and knock you to your knees.

As a person with leukemia, the question I hear all the time from everyone around is is How are you feeling? or the statement I hope you are well. Please don’t miunserstand the following … I love that I have so MANY people in my life that CARE enough about me to ask how I am. I honestly do. BUT, it is also the question I have no happy answer for. Right now, there is not a circumstance wihen that question will have an ansswer of Great!! and I know the asker is not expecting that. If I say I’m fine … I’m lying. I am not fine. I have leyukemia and lymphoma and I am taking chemo to help get them back under control and I am now going for an infusion to boost the immune system which should win the academy award for best portrayal of playing dead. When I say I’m okay, take that as the best possible answer I can provide at the moment without lying to anyone. But most of the time, if I’m not lying … and I don’t like to do that to questions genuinely asked, the true and honest answer is going to be, I’m tired. Or I will simply avoid answering the question.

There are only so many times you can say, I’m tired or I’m fatigued or This day is kicking my butt before you feel like a Grade A, Number 1, First Class WHINER. I try to keep things positive most of the time, because I NEED TO. It’s not because I want to come off as little Mary Sunshine adorning everyone’s days with rays of light and rainbows, though I do try to spread happiness and love as I can. But I need to harness the power of the positive to help me defeat this beast trying to take me down. So when pretty much every day I am asekd to answer a question where there is a negative response waitingm, it does tkae me down a notch.

Normally, I don’t care what other people thingk about me. Primarily because it is their perception and feeling and the only thing I can do to sway them one way or the other is to continue being me. But in this case, when the words tired and fatigue are used so frequently, you begin to wonder whether people’s perception of you is changing through no fault of your own. DO THEY consider you a whiner for always being tired? But then I started to wonder whether a better understanding of what is meant by fatigue would help create common understanding for those who have not experienced this level of fatigue. So today, in this post, I’m NOT TELLING you I’m tired, I’m SHOWING you HOW tired I am. I have a form of dyslexia that is much harder to control when I am tired. Most of the time, when “Normal“, when letters arrange themselves in my brain in the wrong order by the time the command hits the fintgers typing the characters, the rearrangement of the owrd has taken place or I immediatelly catch on typeing and correct. Not this time. My brain is somewhat scrambled and the orders it thinks it is goving are not recived correctly by the fingers and mistakes are made. Frequently.

Big deal, right? Wrong. Those who know my nearly obsessive attention to detail when it comes to writing can confirm how much errors normally upsets me. Me On Fatigue = Scrambled Brain (breakfast anyone?) Thius manifests iteslf not only in writing but in speech as well. My entire language center can go on the fritz and sometimes it is really bad. Tonight, as I arrived home from my infusion (actually dropping off a prescription at the pharmacy, but I’ll get to that in a moment) I stard blankly into the car as I tried to remember what I had done with the credit card after the pharmacy clerk had returned it. Then I became confused becauyse I couldn’t remember giving it to her. Then FINALLY realization dawned: I hadn’t given her the credit card becayse the ONLY thinkg I was doing was DROPPING OFF the prescription. Now imagine that about every activity you do throughoyut your day. This truly illustrated a moment of the brain on fatigue. I was getting ready to tear the car aaprt when I remembered about only dropping it off. I DID however search for the excuse note I had drafted for the jury duty summons I have received, as I will not be able to appear. I rmemebered to ask about it (YAY!!! foir me) I remembered to remind the chemo nurse that I needed it. I helped her write it. And then I’m pretty sure I left it on the counter after having input my next appointments into my phone. Brain on Fatigue Fatigue means I can’t think straigh, I can’t write straight, I can’t speak straight, my emotions are a jumble and are raw and right next to the surface. It is easy to make me cry, and easier to piss me off. The good news is that, as always, it is easy to make me smile and laugh as well. More things are funny and more things are terrible. The brakes have come off, all filters have been dissolved, and life feels very much like something you’ll never have control over, even as an illusion, again.

So … after all that? How am I? I’m Tired. I’m Exhausted. I’m Fatigued/. And I very much open that you’ll not think less of me for feeling this way. It is honestly where I am. And hoepfully as well, you can understand how being reminded of such becomes a negative. Because the other thing I am (as in How am I) is De3aling. I am dealing with the cancer, dealing with the cures, dealing with the ftigyue, dealing with the isolation, dealing with my workload, dealing with not sleeping, or sleeping too much, dealing with getting ill and nto haveing anything to fight with … all of it in the ONLY way I know how.

One. Step. At. A. Time.

The picture at the top of the post is one I selected to show the tenacity of my hope; the tenacity of my faith. Tomorrow the sun is going to rise, and tomorrow, I am going to be here to see ti. Mabye not as it rises, but I will know on waking each day (presuming I have actually sletp) anothe r day has dawned. And the picture of the lantern is something in the chemo room the nurses clubbed together to buy as a decoration for the room for the patients. To remind us that through Love and Caring, Faith Makes All Things Possible.

***Note – In the body of this post when I typed what I had intended to be the word typos and it came out sypot, I laughed and couldn’t help but use it for the Subject of this post. So yes, the post Title misspelling was deliberate. Everyuthing else you have suffered through in this post comes from the very addled brain of yours truly./

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Let me explain. Barring divine intervention, I knew I would not be walking in to find that my values had all returned to the normal range. With the way I have been feeling, even had God made that happen, I’d have probably dissolved into a puddle of tears because the truth is I don’t feel well — I’m not 100% and I know it. And if everything was normal then there was something seriously wrong. So what were the possible outcomes of the visit? The expected march forward toward chemo, which is not something to be greeted with glee … or to my mind, even worse, sentenced to waiting another three months because the values remained steady.

Soooo, the results were worse, and not just a little worse. The progression continues to be aggressive and the values jumped as much as they did between April and July. What did I feel on hearing the results? Validated. My energy levels have been extremely low and at least there is a cause I can point to … other than feeling like a slug. But here is where things went off course from expectation. Instead of hearing bone marrow biopsy and chemo, I heard come back in January. Ummm, my blood levels are as bad or worse than they were when I went through chemo in 2013, so I didn’t understand why we would continue to wait.

But here’s the thing, while my white blood cells and lymphocytes are clogging up my system, my platelets are fighting the good fight and refusing to be beaten back. They are still within normal range. And BECAUSE they are still hanging tough, the doctor wants to give them the opportunity to continue their fight … so we wait and check again in January. Did I see this as a positive? NO! Why not? Because my mind doesn’t deal well with feeling like I’m in limbo. I know I’m not well, so I want to move forward and FIX the problem. As unpleasant as moving forward can be sometimes, it is taking action, and I am GREAT at putting one foot in front of the other and powering through. No matter what.

My dear friend, Italia, helped me get back on track emotionally with a lesson in gratitude. I was seeing the storm and the lightning strike and feeling like things were just going to continue in limbo, and that I truly don’t want to spend the rest of my life like a hermit. I need time-based boundaries … because I can do ANYTHING for XXX amount of time, as long as I know. Doing things for ??? amount of time, I don’t do well. So I saw the storm and the lightning was the jolt that said, you don’t have any control here and you’re just going to have to wait. Italia tapped me on the shoulder and pointed at the rainbow — the positives in the situation like: not having to be in chemo through the holidays, giving the medication my doctor prescribed to help with the fatigue a chance to work so I felt better and more ready to face chemo, being able to continue working from home to help me stay as healthy as possible. She reminded me that God is in control and I was focused on my picture of what I wanted and not on the bigger picture He has for my life.

This is WHY we have friends. To help us look for the right things. Normally, I am always searching for the rainbow, the bright spot in the storm. But all I saw were the gathering clouds and the destruction caused by the lightning. Does seeing the rainbow make things easier? A little. I am still dragging tail and feel like some thief came in and stole all my spoons while I napped, but I have my little ball of hope back, and with that alone I can conquer the world.

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I have had a little bit of a setback this week, however, unrelated to the leukemia & lymphoma. Monday was the day for what I THOUGHT was supposed to be my last shot in the eye. I was more than a little discouraged to be told during my appointment that I would probably need to have a booster shot two or three times a year. I think I’m going to have my doctor refer me to someone else for a second opinion. The reason I went to the retinologist in the first place was that I have some splotches near the center of my vision and I can’t see through them. The shots are to treat the edema in my right eye, and have done nothing for the splotches, AND the edema has worsened through the treatments. I’m not saying I think the shots have made me worse. Perhaps things would have been much more severe had I not started the treatments when I did, but as things stand, I want someone else to take a look.

On top of my disappointment at learning I’d have to continue having more shots, my eye is a mess. This time the redness is visible and yesterday I had to go back to the doctor because the eye was matted and sore. They believe I’m having an allergic reaction to the iodine used to sterilize the eye. Next time they’ll wash the iodine out after the shot has been given. Seriously???? I have five treatments with no adverse effects, but shot number six and my eye decides to have an allergic reaction??? It is still sore, and has to be cleaned a few times a day, but putting drops in helps and I think it might be feeling a bit better overall.

My energy levels have been a bit better this week, but wouldn’t you know I’d have the eye thing… when your eyelid feels heavy it makes you feel tired, or at least it does me. I’ve been taking lunch time naps when possible, aided by my two furry companions, Phoenix and Elsa. The girls are always ready when it’s time to take a nap, and Elsa is my trusty nap barometer. Actually, at night when it’s time for me to go to bed, she’ll come get me, even if I don’t think it’s time for sleep. She’s very persistent. And she assesses the degree of napping need. If I just need a little power nap, she’ll curl beside me. When she’s serious about me getting some good down time, she’ll lie across my midsection, and when she crawls into my arms, and snuggles her head under my chin, it means there WILL be some serious nappage going on.

Other than having the stupid eye thing going on, things have been pretty normal … as normal as things can be right now. Although I do have days, like today, where my energy seems to be taking a dip. So when that happens, I have to listen and try to get a little more rest.

The picture at the top in in homage to the eye. It looks something like that.

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EXHAUSTION

By the time I got home yesterday and handled some things for the day job, I had nothing left in the tank. My entire system threatened to revolt if I attempted to get one more thing done, so I did what I should have and went to bed early. But as tired as I was, I still found plenty to be grateful for. The daily ups and downs of life are truly put into perspective when you sit in a room with people who all have the same goal—to keep on living. Yesterday, we were so full in the chemo room, one man had to start his chemo sitting in a regular chair, until one of the other chairs was freed up. And one patient was having chemo in another room because we were so full.

I sat in my chair, thankful exhaustion was the worst of my woes for the day. Others are not so lucky—discussions of hospice and whether continuing chemotherapy will help to prolong life enough or whether it is time to make the patient as comfortable as possible—my heart goes out to those patients and their families for the hard times ahead. And I keep thinking about the guy I sat next to yesterday. He had to use a walker and had a brace on his knee ON TOP of having chemo. I asked him whether he at least had fun banging up his knee. He had been playing basketball when he hurt himself, but if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t know that he has osteosarcoma. Hopefully because he hurt himself, they will have caught it early enough.

Young, fit, your whole life ahead of you, or so you think, until you take a tumble on the basketball court and find out your horizon may not stretch as far as you once thought. Those were the thoughts I saw behind his eyes, as he went through his first chemo session. It’s not what he expected, but it’s something he has to deal with.

We don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring, we don’t know whether the treatment is going to work the way we hope, we can only keep the faith and move forward knowing we’re doing what we can to help our bodies heal. And so for me, I am thankful for exhaustion because things could be worse. I am thankful for my support network. And I’m thankful for the experiences that help me see things from a different perspective.

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After I made the note, I finally drifted off only to be awakened a few hours later by Denny getting out of bed a few times after Phoenix had gone down and scratched at the door to get out. After he put her back in bed the third time, I got up. I know Phoenix—when she gets an idea stuck in her head, she is NOT going to let it rest until she accomplishes whatever mission she is on. When I followed her, she first went over by the dresser and then to the bedroom door, and I realized she was thirsty. When I go to bed early (to read or work from bed), I bring the girls water dish in and set it next to the dresser so they can get a drink if they need one. They need their liquids just as much as we do. And while we didn’t go to be early, she was thirsty. I filled up a glass with water and she slurped away, only to be joined by Elsa as soon as the water was turned on. It had been a warm day.

After we were up at the necessary time, I told Denny she had been thirsty because he slept through the wee hour drink fest. His response? But it wasn’t time for a drink. Like telling that to a dog is going to mean anything at all. Phoenix didn’t care about what time it was … she was thirsty and wanted a drink. End of story.

Another thing that concerned Denny is that I have been snoring during sleep since starting chemo, and he is concerned about what it means and is disturbed because he doesn’t sleep as well. This coming from the man who can wake the dead with his snores. Yes, I am snoring. I have allergic reactions to the chemo drugs, and though we are running the drip at a slower rate so I don’t stop breathing, that doesn’t mean I am free of any reaction whatsoever. It means that the reaction has been reduced to a level that is not life threatening. I am taking my allergy meds—daily, but my sinuses are perennially stuffed, and I snore. This will improve after the chemo stops and I can lose some of the weight I have gained from the chemo, and I’ll no longer be getting the monthly dose of something I’m highly allergic to. I did recommend he go to Walgreen’s and pick up some earplugs.

Sooooo… the actual chemo today. It was delayed. We arrived right on time, and along with the supervising doctor, so all was good … except the delivery of the chemo drugs had been delayed and they didn’t have my cocktail for the day. But it was expected within the hour, so I kicked back and tried to work on some edits. I did accomplish some, but it became clear to me, my level of exhaustion was hindering the process and I wouldn’t be able to focus on the job at hand without at least a power nap. About the time I had this figured out, the cocktail arrived and I was hooked up. I pushed back and took a trip to the land of nod. And like yesterday, didn’t sleep deeply, but at least rested in limbo land and was able to defuzz my brain enough to get some work done. By the time the chemo was finished, so was I. Absolute exhaustion had set in. I didn’t even want anything for lunch. The only thing I wanted to find was my pillow. An hour later, I was ready to start working again. I still have another hour or so of juice left, and then it’ll be (hopefully) time to get a GOOD night’s sleep.

Denny was able to spend the time waiting in the chemo room with me, and I was the only patient through the time I was there. Apparently the only other patients for chemo that day were injection patients. So it was quiet.

Today, I’m just rolling along like the wave in the picture. Wherever the tide takes me.

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On the other hand, I was exhausted. For the first time in any chemo session, I rested for a bit. I was attempting to work on my secret editing project, but knew my brain wasn’t with me, so I kicked back and rested for about an hour… you know the land in between actual wakefulness, and deep sleep where you can hear everything going on around you, but can’t open your eyes??? Yeah, that’s where I was. And after I sat back up and had a little hummus, I was able to focus much more clearly on the task at hand.

We did have a moment this afternoon that caused my chemo nurse some concern—I started coughing. Anyone who knows me well, knows me coughing is not an extraordinary event, but with my white counts being so low, she was concerned I might be coming down with something and wanted to make sure that if it continued after I left, or if my throat became sore, that I would call… regardless of whether the time was midnight or even later. I had been so focused on what I was doing, I hadn’t been paying attention to my surroundings. After all the other patients had left, and Denny had come to pick me up, I let the chemo nurse know what was most likely the cause of my coughing spasm.

One patient I have met before, came into the chemo room with her son to wait for the doctor to be free because she’d had her labs done, but then needed to see the doctor. The son is a heavy smoker, to the point where his pores exude the smell of smoke. Add that together with me being highly allergic to cigarette smoke, and you have a reason for my coughing spasm. I didn’t think about it when I started wheezing. I advise the nurse I was wheezing, took out my inhaler, and took a puff, then continued on with the task at hand. It was only after the chemo nurse questioned me about the coughing that I took stock of my surroundings and realized what was going on.

Funnily enough, they were sitting on the opposite side of the room from me, but that indicates the strength of the reaction. Anyway, the coughing abated after they left, and I’m doing well. Except for now being extremely tired and in search of my pillow.

The picture at the top of the post I thought apt because the mill may be old, but it can still grind exceedingly fine. And I feel a bit like having been run through the mill. Until tomorrow, goodnight.

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Today I had my labs, and my white counts continue to drop … not excessively, but enough to make me under the doctor’s cut off point. No shot was given because they wanted to run the values by the doctor. Since I will receive the shot to boost my white counts on Thursday, the nurse thought it likely that the doctor would choose to wait. The values are not dropping fast enough to cause alarm, but they definitely need to be watched.

I have also slacked off on drinking the dandelion tea on a daily basis and it showed up in my liver function values. *crosses fingers* Hopefully the values will not have raised to the point where I cannot have chemo tomorrow. So if the liver values are too high, then I’ll be sent home after getting a shot to boost up my white count which is too low. Figures my body can’t decide which way it wants to be.

After giving me the CBC results, the nurse told me to get some rest. And I’ll try, but it doesn’t always work out the way I’d hoped. For one thing, the “spring forward” time change always messes with my ability to sleep. I try to adjust my sleep hours, but what usually happens is I end up staring at the ceiling and getting far less rest than I would have had we simply left time alone for a change.

Tomorrow will be an early day, so I’d best get back to my edits so I can at least try to get some sleep. Wish me luck on being able to move forward with chemo.

PS – the low white counts mean continued isolation. Can’t risk being exposed to the sniffles at this point.

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I feel a bit like the squirrel in the picture. I’ve made it to the end of the path, and I’m just too tired to go another inch. I should be bouncing off the end, diving into my future, and all I want to do is curl up and take a nap. Those who know me well, know slow down and take it easy are barely in my realm of understanding. I do take time to reflect, but it is always with a purpose in mind. I’ll just have to remind myself there is a purpose here too: to give my body the resources it needs to fight. I want to be working on my new book, and I am making some small steps forward, but right now rest is more important. And that is a very hard thing to get through my head.

And as a bonus to you, my posts are much shorter when I’m tired.

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I realized a few days ago that I had been so tired I forgot to have my dandelion tea, which is probably why I’m still retaining excess water. I don’t know if it’s the changing weather or just that the chemo is hitting me harder this month … but I do know, I don’t like feeling this tired. I want to crawl into the castle in the picture and sleep for about a month. And at the same time, I want to get things accomplished. Not once in my entire life have I ever accomplished more than dreams and ideas while sleeping. Which by the way, I don’t want to give up the dreams and ideas, they help fuel my writing.

Not to go on and on whining about my tiredness, I have had some bright spots to my week. Even late this afternoon as my energy level was plunging, I figured out a possible solution for something in the day job, so I’ll be ready to tackle it and see whether I can make it a reality on Monday. I’ve been doing some research for my newest story and found out some important information about my main character this week. And, of course, the brightest spot to the week was signing with Italia Gandolfo of Gandolfo Helin Literary Management.

Other than being plum tuckered, I’m doing well. My blood values remain good, and I’m feeling well—except for the fatigue. Yesterday and today have been marginally better energy-wise, but tonight I may just lean back and stare at the ceiling for a while (otherwise known as pre-plotting) .

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But then I realized one beautiful thing … I’ve been going through chemo for 4 months now, and tonight I’m more nauseous than I’ve been the entire time … and it’s manageable. I was able to have something to eat (nothing fancy, a helping of mashed potatoes) and I have not become one with the great porcelain bowl. And I’m starting to feel a tad better. Not great, but not as lousy as I was before.

I saw my doctor yesterday and she mildly chastised me for not sharing all my symptoms with her. (Ironically, yesterday I felt great.) And I told her my journey was so relatively light, I don’t really think of the negative symptoms as negative. Yes, after every chemo session I go through a few days of turning into a gas factory … I take the anti-nausea medications she prescribed and keep it in check. Yes, every treatment cycle means I’ll retain water like a camel and it takes a couple weeks to get back to normal. Yes, the injection to boost my white count gives me a headache and backaches, sometimes more severe than others, but these are known side effects, and none of it is beyond my ability to deal with. Yes, I get tired after the treatments, but I’m encouraged by how much better my energy is getting in between treatments.

So the bottom line is, I don’t talk about feeling poorly because I really haven’t had a bad time of it. I know many others who have had a much rougher time, so I feel blessed. But since I am not feeling the swiftest tonight, I am not working on things (other than this post) will probably watch a movie or read a little and get some rest. Oh, and I absolutely attribute my ability to stay well to keeping myself isolated most of the time, and being diligent about wearing a surgical mask when having to go out in public at any time.

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I feel like there should be a warning at the beginning of this post …

****WARNING**** Mind explosion in progress.

In a nation focused on the freezing weather, the nice market boost based on the words of new Fed chief, Yellin, and the controversy surrounding whether Blake Griffin actually smacked Justin Bieber in Starbucks, or (more seriously) the death of Shirley Temple Black, my update about how chemo went is small potatoes. But I’m going to give it anyway.

Tuesday’s are my loooooong day, but at least I was able to start my day earlier than normal so we weren’t making our way home at six o’clock. There is just something psychologically daunting about having been sitting in a chair all day and to not be finished by five. Last time I found myself staring at the drip and timing the next one. Not really a healthy mental place to be when I could have been focusing on getting something done. Anyway, starting early helped tremendously because there was still daylight on the drive home. However, first thing sitting in the chair, I was antsy. Could not get comfortable and couldn’t sit still. My fault, entirely. Last night, for some silly reason I can’t even remember, I decided not to use my bed of nails, even though I knew my lower back was having problems. I paid the price for that decision today. Since I couldn’t concentrate on what I had intended to do, I started a movie and things settled down.

Today became a reminder for how truly blessed I am in my journey. I have people who care, people who are willing to drive me to and/or from the treatments, people who are praying for me and my recovery. And I’m blessed in some aspects with my particular diagnosis and resulting treatments because while there have been one or two bumps along the way, my journey so far has been relatively smooth (and I’d really like it to stay that way).

I was reminded about the differences in diagnosis when I learned this morning of a very good friend who went to the ER because of a cough and has been diagnosed with lung cancer. And a reminder from my chemo nurse when she shared that she had to take her father for a lung biopsy tomorrow—and her father is not listening to the doctors, but dismissing them as being over zealous in their testing. And the reminder of how my journey have been relatively good came from a patient who I’d had chemo with before … she arrived to find out she may not be able to have chemo today, but would definitely be checking into the hospital for the next 4-5 days because of some negative test results.

In some ways the reminder of the journey itself hit harder because I watched her face and saw the reaction to learning she had a serious issue going on that had to be dealt with in the immediate future. I remembered my reaction to being told to go home, chemo wasn’t happening that week. How much worse to be told you’d be going directly to the hospital next door? Fortunately, she was able to have chemo prior to going next door to the hospital, but it was definitely a blow to her.

At the end of the day it was me, the other patient, and the chemo nurse chatting. And the other patient said something that made me count another blessing—the worst part of her journey was the exhaustion and she wished she could have my energy. I’ve been tired, I have worked through exhaustion, but I have been fortunate enough to have more energy on a regular basis than most of the chemo patients I’ve come into contact with. Okay, for starters, I really don’t sit still well and never have, so she was seeing me at the end of a day where I’d been in the chair for eight hours already. But the truth is that I have not had many of the exhausted days where the act of opening your eyelids should be greeted with trumpets blaring and confetti falling. I am more tired than normal for me, and my ability to focus on things has been severely depleted (like starting this post thinking I need to make tea, reminded myself 3 times before I realized I had half a cup at my elbow ready to drink—okay, that may just be chemo muzziness settling in). But I also know things could be a LOT worse. I’m thankful they aren’t.

Now I need to grab my HOT tea (finally made a fresh mug) and see what I can get done before getting up and doing the chemo thing all over again. I loved the picture for this post because today I felt a little like a kitten in a pot … not really happy with being confined, but not able to run away either. Besides, the kitten is too stinkin’ cute not to post.

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Today what my body has been through in the last week caught up with me. Tired, headache I can’t seem to get rid of, and I’m retaining water like a camel. So I took it slow and easy this morning. I had an appointment with the surgeon for the port recheck today at 11:30, so I geared my morning toward prepping for that. My only problem with the recheck was finding the doctor’s office.

Once again, I didn’t get a confirmation call… and if I had, things might have gone a lot smoother because I might have questioned them when they told me to go to an office I’d never heard of. Not even thinking twice about it, I hopped in the car and went to the office I know… to be told when I walked in the door that I was at the wrong location. The receptionist handed me a card with the address, a place MUCH closer to my house, and off I went. Good thing I was early for the appointment at the wrong place, eh? I arrived at the “new” location and couldn’t find the suite on the card, so popped into the Urgent Care facility on the ground floor and asked. The receptionist there looked at me like I had two heads. So I asked for the doctor… OHHHH despite having 101 as the suite number on the card, he was upstairs… they didn’t tell me what suite, but gave me lousy directions “just up the stairs”.

By this time, my temper was frayed. The headache I had been trying to outrun came on full force, and I was NOT a happy camper. This is one of those times where I know my anger was disproportionate to the situation, but I also couldn’t change things. (Don’t worry, I didn’t behead anyone… I just kept stating over and over that I was NOT happy.) Fortunately, everything is good with the port, and I don’t have to go back unless there is a problem with it. And the drive home was short after having driven half the county earlier.

Knowing I wasn’t fit for any interactions with people, when I got home, I took a nap, hoping the headache would go away. No such luck. Of course, I’m way behind on getting fluids into me because I haven’t figured out how to sleep and drink at the same time. Pushing the fluids will ultimately help the head situation. I did ice it, so the edge has been dimmed, but still suffering with it. I am now drinking tea, and will try a little food before nausea kicks in, but I do have to say today has not been one of my favorites. I really could have done without the extra driving and the headache can leave any time.

The picture shows how I feel… being beaten by the forces of nature at the moment.

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