|This topped my screen when I logged into Google just now. Happy Birthday!?!|
I didn't know they cared...I know. They don't.
What was supposed to be, unplanned as it was, a quiet day of naval gazing, thinking about my present life, and future, if any, turned into another round of visits to medical professionals and labs.
The rash on my arms has migrated to the upper chest and neck, and has begun to itch terribly. A call from the Oncologist this morning told me an appointment was scheduled for this afternoon with a Dermatologist for punch biopsies. Thereby shooting a big hole in my otherwise perfectly mindless day.
My reputation preceded me. The Dermatologist knew all about me and my case. Seems I have a friend, or two, at the Center looking out for me. He squeezed me in as a favor. Three hours and 2 biopsies later I have a new body shampoo and cream. The guesses are one rash is drug-related, the other by the weakened immune system.
More blood work, too. Needed to check the iron level in my body from weekly transfusions. Why this wasn’t done with the rest of the tests yesterday is anybody’s guess. Another hour for this one.
The Oncologist decided that one of the scrips I’m taking has been superseded by a better, new and improved version, so a replacement prescription awaits me this afternoon as well.
The question is; will I ever again spend a whole 24-hour day outside the world of healthcare and medical establishment? T0day marks the 17th day of non-stop medical madness with appointments on Thursday and Friday waiting in the wings.