Since I have spent the last week and two weekends working on overtime to try and earn money before my leave, I haven't had time to update this blog.
I had my first post-cancer trip to the emergency room on Thursday. That was.... fun. When I bent over to plug my phone charger in, I had an episode of chest tightness and then my heart felt like it was skipping beats. It winded me something awful so I had to sit down. I decided to go to the emergency room because I had this pressure in my chest that wouldn't go away, even with my anti-anxiety meds. It felt like something was just pushing down on my chest and it would not go away. Ugh.
When I was at the ER, they ended up making me sit in a wheelchair and in a room all by myself, away from the general waiting area. Apparently I'm too sick to be around sick people. Haha. Weird. The whole trip to the ER was a five, maybe six-hour, ordeal which pissed me off. By the time I realized that I was fine and wanted to go home, it took them about two hours to grant me my wish. I was also getting really irritated by the IV in my arm because the tape/adhesive was driving my skin bonkers. I kept harassing Nurse Bob (seriously) to take it off because my skin was just absolutely crawling. Finally, a nurse or some random guy dude in the hospital came and took the IV out of me. I said, "Oh thank God, I'm allergic to adhesive and this has been driving me nuts."
"Oh you're not allergic to adhesive."
"Uh, excuse me?"
"You're not allergic to adhesive. This is is a special type of adhesive - no one has a reaction to this."
By the time this lovely exchange happened, it was 10:30 and both my boyfriend and I were ready to kill someone. I just glared at this dude with my big cancery eyes and prayed that looks could indeed kill. I really wanted to say, "You know what, fuck you dude. I know what the fuck I'm allergic to, and adhesive is one of them. Go fuck yourself and jump off a cliff while you're at it." Instead I kept quiet because I was worried that any backtalk or obscenities would delay my going home.
It was not a fun night, I'll say that. Because of this episode, I'm going to have a follow-up appointment with a cardiologist who'll probably just tell me this was PVCs and nothing to worry about. I guess since I'm going through chemo, they have to be overly cautious about anything going on with me. I'm okay with that.
I have a CT scan of my head and chest tomorrow morning. Tuesday will be blood work day, and I have to get all my short-term disability and FMLA paperwork started and approved before my March 3 treatment. It's going to be a long week, I can already tell. I do have a friend who's coming in from out of town to help me out this weekend, so I'm very grateful. I wish I was seeing her under better circumstances but hey... this is my life. Wah wahhhh.
That sounds alternately frustrating, frightening and enraging. I'm sad you had to go through that -- not that there is ever a good time, but following chemo, it's kind of a "What fresh hell is this?"
ReplyDelete