Kittens, Ponies & Rainbows

As the old song goes, “Been Down So Long, It Looks Like Up to Me!”

Blood work depressingly disappointing, but no transfusion last week. Can’t figure that out and too tired to attempt second-guessing the oncologist.

Been feeling like I was smacked over the head with a bag of stones. No energy, No appetite.  Just an all round wretched feeling of pain, loneliness, and despair. Sadness is sometimes overwhelming. Card readings have been of a cautious nature; not at all cheerful or up-lifting. Just get through, that’s all.  Just get through

Spent all weekend in bed reading and nursing lower back pain trying to force myself to eat something of substance. I managed hard cooked eggs with toast, a bit of cheese and crackers. A fruit cup and jello at various times.    The tastebuds are dead - that means no sense of smell, either - and no real hunger pangs to speak of.  It’s a caution all round.                  

Had a reaction to the pain killers where I was unable to urinate for almost 6 hours. The cause - I had taken 2 rather than 1. (though the instructions do say 1 or 2 depending on pain level.) This was eventually alleviated by downing 3 Benadryl tablets and waiting it out. The inflammation finally subsided and I was a peeing fool by midnight.  Much relieved, in more ways than you’ll ever know. 

Implant surgery is tentatively set for tomorrow,  Tuesday, April 22 at 6 am. No food or drink after midnight tonight. With my luck I’ll awaken with a ravenous appetite in the morning and be chewing on my shirt sleeve by the time I get into pre-op anesthetic care. Just another story of my life.

Friend and co-worker, Jeffrey will be my transportation to and from the hospital. Very kind and thoughtful of him and I don’t feel so bad knowing that he’s an early riser as I am, and he’s not working until later in the day.

So far, my body seems to be handling the Chemo well.  No major changes or violent reactions that I can point to and that’s a relief all by itself.

Sister news isn’t all that great.  She had a bit of a relapse on Saturday afternoon that almost sent her back on the ventilator.  Knowing the Aging Bayou Goddess as I do, I can say that she probably tried to do more than she was supposed to do - you know,  just to see if she could do it and prove the nurses wrong - only to get smacked down on her butt unable to breathe thanks to the chest pain.   Some people never grow up.  

We talked yesterday for about 15 minutes (not to keep her talking too long) and her manner was very contrite by then. No need to say “we told you so”  she knew it all too well. The incident put a good scare into her, so I think all will go smoothly for a while, but not long enough. That would take an elephant tranquilizer gun, to be sure.

There are refilled prescriptions to pick up today, though I hate to get dressed and leave the comfort of the apartment and the bed.  It must be done however, since I have no idea if I will feel up to running errands for a few days after the surgery. I don’t know what to expect of the surgery or how long the healing process will be.  I used to heal very quickly, but with all the drugs in my system not sure how they will hinder that process.

Whatever.  It is what it is.

And so it goes.

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