This week my oncologist returns from a conference or vacation or something, and I will get the final word on whether I can begin stem cell mobilization, the last bit of my treatment, on the 16th or whether I’ll end up having to wait another month. I’m really frustrated at the possibility of having to postpone the finalization of my treatment. I’m not happy at the weight I’m at; I don’t feel like my body is happy here, and it’s getting increasingly harder to try to maintain this weight. I’m just not that hungry lately, and I’m not comfortable eating high calorie food just to keep up an unhealthy weight especially when the only reason I’d be being forced to do that would relate to how convenient the continuation of my treatment is to the clinic. I really hope the doctor will just let us go on with the treatment. I’m tired of all this to-ing and fro-ing with the clinic, and I’m tired of my bones aching. I want to get on with things so I can finally heal. Fingers crossed anyway.
Whew! I am worn out after today. I couldn’t sleep last night for some reason, so I was up until 3:30AM then had to force myself to get up at 8:00AM to get ready for my rituximab appointment… so I was a bit of a cranky pants. Then at the clinic I had to wait an hour before I was finally called up for my appointment… timeliness is not apparently a strong suit of the medical profession. I’m not exactly a time Nazi, but my time is valuable, and an hour just seems a bit excessive to me. As I’m sure everyone can imagine, making me wait for an hour did nothing for my cranky pants; I think it just gave me an extra helping of grouch on the side.
Things were pretty uneventful, my port didn’t bleed for the nurse, but that’s pretty standard. I did get a boost of extra knock out from the phenergan though, and being tired already I was comatose for most of the treatment. When I did wake up it was to the beep beep beep of my rituximab pump going off because it was out of fluid to push; oh talk about uber grouchy cranky pants. If my evilness generated heat the pump would’ve melted. When five minutes went by with no one turning it off, I pressed the call button for a nurse, two minutes later I pressed it again, and two minutes later I pressed it yet again, which apprently sets off the emergency buzzer at the nurses station. I had no idea, I was just stewing in a pot of my own grouchiness. Suddenly five nurses turn up and yell at me for pressing the button three times. No one ever provided me any instruction on the intricacies of the call button, and trust me if I’d known it would make them shake their butts so fast I probably would’ve pressed it three times sooner. Anyway, I promptly fell asleep again while one of them pulled out my tubing. I think it freaked her out because when she woke me up she kept asking if I was alright, and my mouth was dry, and I didn’t feel like making an effort to talk so I was just shaking my head. Not one of my most charming days for sure.
The good news though… I have the time for my hospitalization appointment… July 16. Almost a month away, I pray my immune system will be healed and my blood and the rest of me will be stronger by that time. So end of July and this will all be OVER! Somewhere, in some parallel universe another me is dancing a jig and singing mad happy songs for reasons beyond her.