I still have Fred Flinstone's feet and my doctor is concerned.....me too, buddy!!!! LOL!
Since I couldn't go to Kansas. Since I already felt like shit. Since I did want to get in there and have them do all their routine blood work and check my kidney function........I called and asked if I could start the 3rd cycle two days early.
Yeah, I know, I kicked up an awful fuss about not coming back in a minute sooner than absolutely necessary....and now I ask to come back two days early.
I am difficult.
I left the Nook enjoying a perfect, sunny, early fall day.
Jen's front yard is in the foreground. I have to plant some mums this weekend! No excuses. At the top of the pic if the absolutely perfect front yard of Jen's neighbor. Her grass is the stuff of the dreams of every member of the Irish diaspora, thick and green. You see it and want to kick your shoes off and walk on it. Her flower beds are colorful and would make Martha Stewart jealous.
So I had to drive to Wisstah to straighten out a crazy problem with my health insurance. There were beautiful leaves in every color, this was the best pic I could get considering I was speeding and it was raining.
So I was late.
I had Copley Square on my mind because this morning I read about cider donuts from Hamilton Farm being available at the farmer's market they have on Tuesdays and Fridays on the Trinity Church plaza. So as I zipped off of the Pike and got dumped on Boylston Street....there it was.....the great white whale of the Back Bay.....a big ass LEGAL parking spot. Que the choir!!!! I didn't even need to use any of my rusty parallel parking skills. I grabbed some cash and ran to the Hamilton Farms tent.
Four boxes of a half dozen mixed cider donuts and two whoopie pies later I was zipping over to the valet parking of the North building. If you are out of the valet within a half hour, it's free. My plan was to pop in, brandish donuts as a mea culpa for being extraordinarily late and further messing up their schedules, have them draw blood and leave for an hour.
They can't administer my infusion until the blood test results come back and that's an hour minimum.
Buzz! Buzz! I was on my way to Charlestown with my contraband ciggies. Someone near and dear got me three cartons of my mother's brand at an exchange. It's a funny thing - I don't want my mother to smoke....but the deal is so unbelievable, I can't help but buy them. I was worried though. My mother smokes Salem Light 100s, I double checked with my Dad since I have not purchased them in a million years. So that was the order I relayed. He got me Salem Gold 100s. He said that was what the clerk directed him to when he made his requests. I thought, "Ok, we effed that up. Maybe I will just find someone else who smokes these and pretend I forgot." But I had to know. So I called RJ Reynolds. An automated voice asked if I smoked and was old enough or if I didn't smoke, but was still old enough.....B. I was asked to state my date of birth and did so. Then a human.....but clearly a human with a script. She was focused on checking the boxes. Did I smoke? No, this was a question about buying cigs for my mother. My age? I repeated my date of birth. I was patient, I know the "Smoke Nazis" are making all these rules. Taking away any judgement calls on behalf of the RJ Reynolds employees. I don't sound remotely like a teenager. But the next question...that's what tickled my funny bone.
"OK, and your mother's date of birth?"
I laughed out loud! I told her and was nice enough not to point out that if I am 49, there is no way MY MOTHER can be underage.
Anyway, it turns out the crazy anti-smoking people made them stop using the word "Light" on the Salems. Now it's "Gold" but it's the exact same product. So I am alllllll good.
So I present my mother with three cartons of cancer sticks, a package of a half dozen cider donuts and a whoopie pie. My Dad, who is not quite a half a shoe size bigger than me (although not this week, huh!!!!) gave me some sneakers he finds too squeaky.
Then it was back to NEMC. I return to my infusion room and when I hesitate at the door, a voice says, "That's your room." I turn around and Kate my NP is behind the counter. "You recognize me with my big moon face?" I puff my cheeks out. It's quite unnecessary......did I mention I gained 17 kilos in less than a week????? And my blood pressure which tends to run low was 150 over 92?
So they start pushing the dexamethasone. They order the Velcade to push immediately after. They page Dr. Miller, he wants to see me.
So....Kate and Dr. Miller and I caucus. questions on pain and swelling and timelines. He orders a chest X-Ray and an echo. He prescribes Lasix. I ask if that means I can't sneak down to DC. You see I wanted to go and applaud in person when Carren received her award - "Army Wife Carren Ziegenfuss Announced as the Winner of Military.com and CinCHouse.com's Spouse of the Year Award 2010". I am so thrilled about this, that I once I realized that I would actually be available on Thursday the 30th.....I was trying to get there for the official ceremony.
Kate was incredulous! Drive to DC? I told Kate that I had done it several times, it's only 8 hours and I had a pit stop planned.
I wheedled a little - "All the other Milbloggers are going!" Kate answered "Well I am not the other Milblogger's nurse practitioner!" We laughed. I mentioned to Dr. Miller that my company doesn't just have O2....and compression stockings....we had adult diapers too!
So the echo was good, the kidney function was good. If my kidneys are good....well everything else I can deal with.
Tomorrow Lasix and apparently I am tethered to the bathroom for the day.
So finally I was in Jen's car, wending my way home. I was car-dancing to my new favorite song....Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream". Then I hit the button for "70s on 7" and they were playing one of my favorites! The DeFranco Family "HeartBeat" from 1973.My friends and I would dance to that at the St. Francis de Sales CYO dances.