Yesterday, my LTD oncology nurse, phoned to let me know she got all my cancer stats, and she told me that she will be phoning me weekly to answer my questions and give me sound advice.
She asked me how I was doing. Now that’s a loaded question. WelI, besides the rash on my face and the watery eyes, my calf was killing me and how soon can I go and have a massage? She told me to flex my foot towards my chin and then away from my chin. “Thanks a lot,” I told her, “that makes it FEEL WORSE.” No, it’s not red and it’s not hot (two more questions she asked me), but she told me she would feel better if I go get it checked out because it could be a blood clot. Maybe she would feel better, but I sure wouldn’t. “No, I don’t want to go see another doctor or wait in a waiting room!”, I replied. “Don’t you know I was back at Sick Kids on Sunday because my son shoved a pink pom pom up his nose!” That’s what, 5 or 6 hospitals in 3 weeks or something like that… I’ve lost count. I think I’d rather wait and have a heart attack. “Go see a doctor”, she insisted.
“What will this visit entail?”, I asked. “You just need to get an ultrasound on your leg because it might be deep and you can’t see it”, she told me. “Phone your doctor. Go NOW!”
So I did, begrudgingly. I waited. I saw the doctor. She said it looked okay, but she was going to send me for an ultrasound anyway. At 6:30 I went to the medical building next door, with Bobo and the kids, and had a technician analyze it.
Curious, I asked him if he found a blood clot, what would be the next step. “Oh, you will get a needle every day for 10 days and go on blood thinners for many months”.
“I am not going to have a blood clot. I am not going to have a blood clot. I am not going to have a blood clot” was all I was thinking the entire time he was checking. “You don’t have a blood clot,” he told me. “Thank God,” I thought. “I just got rid of that damn picc. line and I sure as hell don’t want 10 needles in my arm!” Safe, for now.
P.S. Dropped a can of corn on the floor while I was attempting to put it on the conveyor belt at the grocery store. “Opps!”, I said. “At least it wasn’t glass”. Bobo just looked at me and said, “Get away from the rest of the groceries”. Don’t know when my hand will start co-operating, but I hope it’s soon.
P.P.S. After sharing my pom pom story, I found that people have great stories about what their brothers, sisters, and students have shoved up their noses (ie: beads, pencils, googley eyes beans, emeralds). I even found out that somewhere at Sick Kids, they have a special glass wall where they display all the stuff that they pulled out of little people’s noses. I will go look for it the next time I’m at Sick Kids and see if they stuck my son’s pink pom pom in there. I hear it’s quite a collection!
P.P. S. S. Okay, so maybe I will only write once in a while… not every day… only when something noteworthy comes up. But I’m not making any promises! You know I started feeling guilty when I didn’t feel like writing, but I made myself do it because I owed it to you, my audience. But NOT ANYMORE! 2 more days!