2002 Story Set
| March 27, 2001 Today was chemo day. Every Thursday is Chemo day. And -- surprise! Our doctor is back! She has been out for three months having a baby - an adorable little girl that my youngest son has threatened to come back and date in about 20 years! My son is walking, and he was in a wheelchair when she left. He was just starting to get up. He of course had to walk out and hug her. Standing up, he dwarfs her. All this time he thought she was tall. Which of course she was from the perspective of a hospital bed. This is our every-other-week two-hour stint in the day hospital. No more 12-hour days! No more 48 hours on a portable IV! No more my younger son sleeping in my bed and snoring in my ear as I strain to hear an alarm from that &%#@ portable pump! We are done with that. My son looks good. He has a budding interest in life. He is studying his Living Lean book. He is planning on exercise. I am planning on putting him in classes for the summer. I am planning on taking classes in wireless. The coming thing. I like to be in the forefront of technology. Good time while I am out of work. My younger son feels that he should study IT and networking - no, no my older son tells him. You are an artist. And he is. He has no idea what to do with himself. He needs to get back on campus (up here since he's tethered to the hospital for some time to come) and mingle with people closer to his age. But now we are at the hospital I in my Birkestocks with my bandaged toes (still healing). He in heavy thick boots. He is accessed and they get ready. I go fetch him egg and little oatmeal (he must eat every four hours on his "diet"). I have my weekly cafe mocha decafe low-fat, no whip, 16oz. We start the flow. I watch the View. The hospital is rather empty today. I have the parking thingy in my bra so I don't lose it. (New method of parking has been finally at long last introduced.) We now have parking fees in the lot which is keeping the lot from being overcrowded. Too late to save my old truck, now traded, that lost at least one side mirror, and took a hit on three other occasions (poles and other drivers). About an hour or so into the chemo, he complained about feeling hot. He didn't look flushed but I went and told a nurse. Oh boy! He was hot in the face and neck, his body temp felt OK, his blood pressure was OK, but his face was turning red and his head was feeling pressure. Time for Benedryl. IV style. 50 not 25. Two pink pills are 50 - but 50 in a port IV is a whole 'nother thing. La la land. Knocked him right out. They stopped the IV for 15 minutes and then ran it at 1/2 the rate. Our two hours just became four. Because, if there is a possible reaction---- my son will have it! The running joke at the hospital. "Oh yeah, reaction in 1529, yeah, it's J--- again!" Doctors came to check on him. Nurses were in and out. I ate a Medifast bar and drank a diet coke. He slept. By about 1PM, he was done. He was supposed to be in a wheelchair. Because he was woozy from the drug. He stomped out to the hall to the restroom. He stomped to the garage. He was holding my hand off and on - I become his rudder when he lists. We decided to go ahead and get his sneakers while we were there. If he is to walk, his baby-tender feet (after nearly two years either in bed or in a wheelchair) need cushioned sneakers. And he wears a size 12 1/2 - 13. So we went to the store with the Team and Training discount and after an hour we had a pair of sneakers, three pairs of socks, and I had two tops. (That fit me! Hard to find XL and 1X exercise clothes in a store. Which always strikes me as STUPID - by all means do not provide clothes for the people who really need them!) So what if my fat gut hangs out under the bra top - I wear a tank top over it in the gym. At least if I am forced to see it, I may force myself to lose it! My son was, by this time, hungry. It was late. I did not have his pills with me. Oh well, catch up later. We drove down El Camino to the In & Out burger place. Took me about 30 minutes in rush hour traffic. It is always rush hour on El Camino in San Jose, Mountain View, Los Altos, etc. We had burgers and shakes (which were small). He kind of lumbered in and then lumbered out of the store with me. Still woozy. We went to CISCO, and got there by 3:30. A little late for lunch! My older son had papers I needed back. (He had faxed things for me.) We made a brief stop. He popped out to say hello and hand me papers he had almost thrown out! He agrees I should look at wireless. He will visit on Tuesday. Easter is a blur this year. My younger son wants Cornish Game Hens. I make them with stuffing, orange juice and raisins. My younger son looks out of it, all puffy eyed, so I run him home, now in rush hour freeway 880 traffic. He crashes and sleeps while I finish typing my taxes. I am totally zonked. Three days of typing to round up stuff. And I find that, in all this rush and confusion, I have misplaced the registration for the Van! AAA - here I come! I need to go there anyway because the month sticker on the truck plate says March and the registration is good to November. Left over stuff from the truck I traded in. Tomorrow I will get stuff for the SoftTub spa. Someone is going to help me clean it on Saturday. Get it running. I need it. Long day. Can't wait to slip into a deep hot tub and just float my cares away! Now I need to locate the Devil Duck. And the happy duck. And the two glow-in-the-dark ducks, which are sporting sunglasses. My friend keeps me supplied. But first, I think I'll celebrate getting the taxes done with a glass of wine. Even if my CPA says there will most likely be an audit since I have so much stuff going on. That's me! Complicated. That's why I have a CPA. I don't need to be present for an audit! Hey! Worth every penny. |
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