Another day of not feeling good… and now another problem – still running a slight fever… back and forth between 99.8 and 99.1. Not high enough to be concerned about by normal standards, but my limit is 100.5. I do feel achy, like having the flu… but not sick. I’ll keep working and hope it comes back down. I just keep wondering what’s causing it?
Ric’s more worried than me. He called the doctor and they want me to come to the hospital and have blood counts checked. Now, I’m scared.
By the time I get to the cancer center I’m an emotional wreck again. Tears are falling as I walk through the door. People are staring. I wonder if they know who I am. I wish for a few minutes I’d never gone public with this.
When I get back to the examining room, it is not my usual nurse, Linda, who is there to take my blood. The new nurse has trouble accessing my port… and I start crying again. It hurts… it’s taking too long… and I want Linda. She tries again… still no luck. Calls in another nurse to help. I’m a total emotional wreck by now. I know I’m acting like a baby… but I’m out of control. Finally, on the third try, they access my port and get the blood. Now I just wait for results. They let me wait in the exam room. Thankfully, I don’t have to go back out in the waiting room,
Dr. Cohen comes in to see me. White blood cell count is very high. So that is not the problem. I do have a bit of bronchitis. He also orders more tests… urinalysis… blood cultures. They will need to get more blood, both from my arm and from the port. I asked for Linda… yes!
We discussed whether I need an anti-depressant. I’m not depressed all the time… just once in a while, and I always have something specific on my mind that worries me or makes me sad. So we’ll monitor my need for it… but hold off for now. He prescribes a lower does of Decadron for the next pre-chemo round… and that should help lessen the “high” effect I experience, and thus also alleviate the “low” that came later.
I didn’t have to dress in the little-old-man-hospital-gown today. It was lying there all folded up… and it seemed like Dr. Cohen read my mind… and said, “I don’t know why they look like that. I can only imagine that somebody somewhere said, ‘Okay, design something that no one will want to steal.’”
Linda came in to draw blood… zip, zip, it was done… no problem, no pain. Linda’s more than a medical practitioner. She hugged me, took time to talk with me… helped me understand that the emotional upheaval is perfectly normal… and that I’m entitled to bad days from time to time. My body is going through tremendous changes. And this never even occurred to me before… but chemo also wreaks havoc on our hormones! She said chemo can be like PMS times 1,000!
The best medicine doesn’t always come in a gold bottle. It also comes in the arms of an angel… Linda.
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