Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Not a sympathy pitch, I swear!

 I had the most Monday-est Monday I can ever recall having yesterday. What was to be a normal, run of the mill checkup with my oncologist turned into a day of much more excitement that I had anticipated.

The short version is that everything is fine. My blood counts were all "perfect." Nothing to see here, folks, move along.

The unabridged version is a bit more graphic involving bodily fluids and sharp, pointy objects. You may choose to stop reading here and rest assured that I'm fine. (*cough* Hinrew, ahem.)

Still curious? As they say on the Knight Bus in Harry Potter, "it's gonna be a bumpy ride!"

I drove myself to my doctor's office and sat down to have my blood drawn. I knew this was coming; they do this first so they can run the numbers so that the doc will have them to go over with you before you leave. I'd already drank at least 32 ounces of water and a mug and a half of tea before I arrived for my 10:30 appointment. I'd also had a lot of water the night before as I'd ridden my bike for about 15 minutes and drank a good bit of water before bed. 

Well, the nurse tried to stick me the first time and said my vein blew. It happens. I know this. (When I was delivering Damon they tried at least 4 and maybe 5 different places to get an IV going. It may have been more. I lost count as I was a little distracted by contractions.)  She apologized and tried again. She got it that time and got the blood she needed. However, sometime during that draw, I told her I was getting a little sparkly and was going to put my head back against the wall. I did that and apparently passed right out anyway. I remember dreaming vividly and then woke up with one of the guys who works there propping my feet up against his legs and my nurse was holding my hand. I may have even wet myself at this point. Either way, I passed out again and this time I for sure peed my pants AND vomited AND the nurse told me when I woke up that I had also seized. This has never happened to me before. I somehow managed to not swallow or vomit my gum, which was a lifesaver afterwards. Yech. They said I was out 15-20 seconds and that I was alert as soon as I came to. I do remember dreaming again the second time, as well. 

I begin, naturally, with apologizing. The nurses are so darling. They brought me fresh pants and helped me change and kept their eagles' eyes on me while I waited for poor Dada to come collect me and my things and take me to the hospital for further evaluation, leaving one car behind. I cannot state enough how much I despise making more work for people, and the fact that they had to mop and change and all that drives me crazy, even though my nurse said her second pair of pants for the day was much more comfy than her first. I know it's an occupational hazard and that it won't be the first or last time they have to experience it, but goodness, I still hate that they had to go through it. Guess everyone needs a little excitement on a Monday, right? Ugh. Insert many, many eye rolls here.

So off to the hospital I go with my knight in shining armor. We get all checked in, I pee in a cup, I tell my story and he fills in details and then they want to get more blood and an IV in for fluids. The sweet nurse examines my arm for a few minutes and decides to attempt a stick in the back of my left hand. That vein blew. Rather than stick me again, she asks around for who on duty knows how to do an ultrasound IV, which was new to me. Lo and behold a guy who spent 8 years in the Marines comes in with his cart and listens to my story and confidently informs me that he'll find a "big, honkin' vein" and go from there. I tell him that they're not cooperating well today and he says we'll make it behave. So he scrolls his ultrasound around and decides on the inner side of my left bicep. I thought it would hurt more, so I asked, "is it in already?" and he sounded a little less confident when he answered, "not quite yet." It did hurt a little more but he did get it in and then he taped the bejeezus out of it so it wouldn't go anywhere. During the sticking and for a few minutes afterward, my heart rate plummeted to 39. Dada said I was in the red there for awhile. My sweet nurse came back in and said, "I figured by the numbers he was trying to stick you. Poor thing, you really don't like getting poked, do you?" She tilted my bed so that my head was lower than my feet for awhile. They're all so good at this game. 

They got their blood and a bag of fluids going. It's been awhile since chemo, so I'd forgotten how cold you can get when room temperature or chilled bags of fluid are entering you. I was shivering and sweet Dada asked for a blanket for me. I had an EKG where they stick 10 stickers all over you and the plugs go to the stickers and then, in a blink of an eye, it's over and she's unplugging me and unstickerizing me as I tell her that Damon likes to slyly sneak stickers from bananas onto my back as he hugs me.

They also wanted a chest Xray and a head CT so a radiology tech wheeled me through the maze of halls as we chatted about does she get her 10,000 recommended steps and she says most days, but it depends on the day. I sadly informed her that I probably wouldn't be getting mine that day.

Everything looked good there, so back to my ER room and they did one of those blood pressure tests where you're laying down, then sitting, then standing, and all those numbers corresponded within where they should be. 

The doctor came in and listened to my story, especially my concern that while I've passed out because of needles before, I'd never peed or vomited or seized. He reassured me that any of those things can happen when someone is unconscious, including defectating, which I'm thanking my lucky stars was something I can leave out of the mix, and he says that it might not have been a seizure, per say. He wanted me to schedule an EEG just to make sure epilepsy can be ruled out. Great. Another first for me. And a follow up appointment with a neurologist. Yay, yet another first! He said that all the tests looked good and showed no areas of concern and suggested that maybe it was just low volume of my blood and he told me to hydrate. That part still doesn't make sense to me as I specifically drank extra ahead of time knowing I'd be getting stuck. Oh well.

This afternoon is my follow up appointment with my family doctor who was kept in the loop and next Monday I meet with the neurologist. 

So, the point of all that is to tell you two things: one, I am fine, and two, if you ever feel like you're having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day like Alexander, ask yourself if you've peed yourself and vomited and played pincushion all in the same morning. I'm thinking of changing all my social media account user names to Not I, Cacti! #NotICacti has a nice ring to it.

I'm fortunate that my mental health is at a place where I could come home, have a good cry in the shower as I peeled off all the bandaids from the sticks, and realize that yes, while it certainly ranked up there as the most craptastic day I've had in a very long time, it was just a day and they'll look better going forward. I had my man by my side, excellent and caring medical professionals all day long, the kids here at home were already in their groove of online learning so (at least theoretically) they didn't need me every minute, and all results were positive. Overall, blessed beyond measure. So I had to wash a load of clothes- that happens just about every day anyway. 

The biggest inconvenience, and it is just that, is that I'm not supposed to drive until after the EEG just so they're sure I'm not epileptic. That makes things a little more difficult but also isn't earth shattering or long lasting. Another inconvenience will be that I have three extra appointments versus the one I'd have had yesterday if everything had gone as expected. I should have remembered- it's 2020; why would anything go as expected? I'm winking, you just can't see me.

The perk of seeing my doc today is that I can hopefully also get my flu shot, haha! Win! Always a silver lining. 

Wednesday, September 23, 2020

A Grave Tactical Error

 School has begun, more about that later, so we are more appreciative of our time off and weekends these days. The kids are pretty much glued to their respective computers for school work as everyone is remote learning right now. So last weekend we naturally watched some movies. Feel free to insert an eye roll here. 

Our unanimous agreement is that the Never-ending Story II doesn't hold a candle to the original. I found it hilarious that the same actor who is the voice of Falkor and the Narrator and the Rockbiter in the original is the same guy who voices Skeletor from He-Man. There's your trivia for today. You're welcome.

However, that wasn't our biggest mistake of the weekend. Upon scrolling through Netflix, we discovered that Monty Python (and I've already lost some of you to the one-liners floating through your minds) and the Holy Grail is A) on Netflix, haha, and B) rated PG. 

My disclaimer is that I had previously only ever watched it once, and it was on a college choir tour bus so I couldn't hear it well. That's my defense, your Honor. I'd never felt the need to watch it as all the high school boys I knew had been quoting it for forever; I didn't feel as though I'd missed any of it.

Well. There's something to be said for actually watching it, paying attention, AND having the subtitles on. Oh my.

Some of you, my brother for instance, jumped straight to that dialogue which I shall skip as my parents read this and I don't think they've ever seen or desire to see the movie. Thankfully, Thing 2 wrinkled his nose and it went over Thing 1's head completely. He found the girls desiring to be spanked hilarious. Insert some more eye rolls.

Unsurprisingly, Thing 2's favorite line was... I'll let you guess. Something to do with gas and someone's general direction.

Thing 3 almost busted a gut where the illustrator/narrator/whatever had a heart attack and immediately died, falling off his chair backwards. At several points he declared the movie "dumb" yet stuck around and proclaimed it "the best movie ever." Oh dear. Bear in mind we watched most of the Marvel movies this summer...

Don't mind us. We're just over here bird watching, musing about swallows and not dying of flesh wounds...


Wednesday, September 09, 2020

Not puzzling


Aunt Lainie gave us this puzzle last year as we packed up to head home from the beach. It's 1000 pieces, our first large jigsaw attempt, perfect for quarantine and summer vacation. I opened the box and the plastic packaging inside the box.

It is missing 106 pieces.

Not 16. One hundred six.

Now, we have no way of knowing if it was missing some or all of them before we opened it, but I can tell you that I caught Bosley Underfoot walking on the table like it was a catwalk and he's had colorful poop lately, so my guess is that not all the pieces grew legs themselves. Pretty sure they had help.

I had a good time with this challenge despite those who shall remain nameless who didn't want to help as we didn't even have all the edge pieces, ahem. PaPa even got some in. Big thanks to Liam who channels his patience and unerringly discovered what went where. Or should.

I think we should wait until Fall break to attempt the next one.