Trying to recuperate from yesterday, but it has been hard. No sleep does terrible things to your psyche.
I got a phone call yesterday from the day-care at 11:15 a.m. Frack had a fever of 104 degrees. He has never had a fever that bad, so I figured I’d better take him to Sick Kids Hospital, again, twice in 2 weeks, because they would probably have to admit him. The last thing I needed was a return to the waiting room at Sick Kids for 4 hours (and this is my most susceptible period to getting an infection, to boot). So after the triage nurse asked a whole bunch of questions, he asked me to wait in the waiting room and I said, “No”. He asked, “Why not”. Because I already did this two weeks ago. I waited in that waiting room for 4 hours and didn’t see a doctor and left. I’ve just had a round of chemo and my immune system is shot and I’m not about to wait in there with a whole bunch of sick kids. “Did you try neupragena (sp?)”, he asked. I gave him one of my “Are you for real looks?” Why would I want a $3,000 shot to boost my immune system – so I could hang out in a waiting room full of sick children? Then he told me to go outside in the atrium and wait there and he would come find me when it was Frack’s turn. I was happy with that.
While we were out there I got my lunch, Frack got some stuff to colour (Spiderman) from the gift shop and I also got a Gingerbread Decaf. Lactose Free Decaffeinated Latte. I figured if I was going to get stuck there for several hours, I was going to treat myself to the biggest damn Grande latte there was and I didn’t care how much it was going to cost. That’s where the nurse found me, in line getting my latte. “Hold on, I’ll be right there,” I yelled from Starbucks. “Don’t worry about the whip cream”, I told the guy behind the counter, I gotta go, the doctor is ready to see us!” And off we went…. only to be weighed, and registered, and after Frack got his vitals checked, we were back in the Atrium. So much for that.
The nurse told me he didn’t blame me for not wanting to go into the waiting room. I told him it was claustrophobic in there. He said that when the big shots upstairs decided to make the new waiting room, they lost 1,000 square feet, and when people who worked there questioned that decision, they said, “Oh, but it will be so nice”. It’s bloody claustrophobic in there and no matter where you sit you are VERY close to other sick people crying, barfing, and coughing all over the place. Someone I know from one of my support groups said that when he was on chemo, he went to Sick Kids Hospital because his son was ill and he ended up in the hospital with a virus within a week. He picked it up in the waiting room and he said it was not a good experience. I heeded his warning and didn’t go in there.
I think we did pretty good. We were out in less than 3 hours this time. The fever was not caused by Frack’s kidney so we could go home. The doctor said to keep an eye on him and if he got worse by Friday to go to the family doctor because he probably picked up a virus. I asked him if I could have some of the dipsticks so that the next time he had a fever I could test him at home for blood in the urine. That would save me a lot of time and needless running around for nothing. He said that was probably a good idea and gave me a prescription for them so I could send it for insurance purposes. A bottle of 50 dipsticks cost me around $40 but I figured if that would save me one trip to Sick Kids hospital in the future, it would be worth it ($11.00 in parking, $5 cafe latte, $5 juice/water drinks, $10+ in food, and our traditional $4 Winnie the Pooh trinkets from the gum ball machine near the Tim Hortons).
I picked up Frick at the day-care at around 5:00 (traffic, of course), and made spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. When Bobo arrived, Frick and I set off to the mall to get Valentine’s Day Cards and decorations. We didn’t get home until 8:15 p.m. What a day. So much for resting during chemo.
This morning I went to Wellspring for the second part of that Meditation course. The lady who is running this one is much better than the last one. I think she actually had cancer and knows what she is talking about (and she didn’t tell us that statistically speaking, if we didn’t mediate we were all going to die). That helps. The meditation part was good. Sad to say but I had an emotional breakdown during our support session after that. That’s what happens when you are on chemo drugs, your kids are sick, and you don’t have enough sleep. “My doctor still hasn’t signed the disability sheets and I am suppose to hand them in tomorrow,” I cried. “LTD is going to cut me off”. I think those old retired folks with cancer are ready to march to my doctors office to give them a piece of their minds. “That’s ridiculous,” they ranted, “You go in there and camp out there all day and tell them you are NOT LEAVING until they do!”. They are quite feisty, you know. Then I found out from someone else that it was a good thing that my oncologist was on vacation because apparently he doesn’t sign Long Term Disability papers for ANYONE. “Great”, I thought, at least I know where I stand with him now.
I went over to my sister’s house for lunch (I had another lecture I wanted to attend downtown, so I didn’t go back home – Grandma was watching Frack since he is banned from the day-care for 24 hours because of his fever). I phoned my family doctor. “Has she filled in my forms?”, I asked. “I’ll phone you back and let you know”, she answered. Shortly thereafter, she phoned and told me they were almost done… she had to get a code for something that was on it and it would be ready for tomorrow. Thank God. I don’t know if the LTD Claims people will accept or reject it, but at least I tried.
I would really love to have a massage… but I’m not allowed to because I could have a blood clot. From what I understand, that sometimes happens when you are on chemo. A blood clot could get dislodged when someone massages your skin, it travels to your heart, and BAM you have a heart attack. What a pleasant way to die, don’t you think? At least you’d be relaxed.
I also would really like to take advantage of one of those great travel deals for somewhere warm and hot so I could soak up the sun. We, as teachers, don’t ever get to ever take advantage of the good deals that come out in February. But, since I attract UV light and radiation like a magnet, I really don’t need melanoma cancer to add to my troubles right now.
So I am stuck here… writing my woes to you, my humble audience, instead.
Aren’t you lucky?
If you don’t hear from me in a while, don’t worry. I’ve gone to Vegas to bet everything I have on red. On second thought, I don’t have any jewelry left to pawn, so I really don’t have very much to bet on.
Okay folks. I’m setting up a fund. Give me money, I’m going VEGAS. I’d promise you a high rate of return, but quite honestly, you are taking your chances.
The good news is that it’s dark in the casinos, so I don’t have to worry about sun or sunscreen.
Someone please tell my lottery captain at school that we need to win that lottery right about now.
I want to see some shows too.
You all know I am kidding about going to Vegas, right? Please don’t call the LTD people on my, I’m having enough issues with them right now.