Surprise Chemo Attack

I spent most of the mini zombie apocalypse (hurricane Irene) curled up on my couch in New York. See picture. Nothing major happened other than the McDonald's closing at 10:30am and not being able to get a sausage biscuit to cure my medication induced hangover.

The teddy bear is from my niece, which she aptly named Honeycomb. If you squeeze it, it says "I love you Aunt Patti. I hope you feel better - Holly. Bye Bye!" Of course transcribing this recording does it no justice. No matter how cute of a voice you imagine it in, it doesn't come close. Apparently, I got the bear because I am "cough-sick" and not "throw-up sick". If I was throw-up sick my four year old niece would have recommended just getting me a card to avoid the threat of me getting sick on the bear. It's such a sweet gift. I know it doesn't look like much, but it might possibly be the most hugable gift I've ever gotten.

I boarded my bus bright and early Monday morning. It was supposed to be a Sunday bus but that was rescheduled. Pain meds and PBJ in hand (and my teddy bear). I got a call from Fairfax Hospital asking why I wasn't checked in yet. Surprise! Chemo today. Bus arrived at 12:30, I was home around 1:30 thanks to DC's ridiculously confusing layout. Made it to the hospital by 2:00 and have been awaiting chemo ever since. It's 9:20 pm and counting. I'll be in the hospital for 3 to 5 days post chemo.

I will say this in bullet format because it's late and I have high hopes that I will be sleeping soon:

1. My room is hot. And not the 'oh this is a little warm' hot. The kind of hot you can't sleep in. I called maintenance.
2. There are good nurses and bad nurses. There are also really good nurses and really bad nurses. It makes a huge difference. Earlier today I had a nice good nurse. It is not the same case for tonight: bad absent nurse, the 'annoyed when I called her nurse'. To rub salt in the wound, my roommate has a different, better nurse.
3. For as much talking as we did about it, my mom and I managed to have chemo on the same day. Planning I'll give us a silver star, but no stars for execution. Thankfully, my brother and father took off work tomorrow and we have very good friends.
4. Bone pain really hurts. I haven't cried since early July about the pain, but I'm close.

Stay tuned. Next blog promises horror tales of side effects and/or the joys of applying for limited disability.



(9:50 and still no chemo meds. It may be a long night. Good thing I've got my bear)