About a half hour before I left for the doctor today, I suddenly felt very positive and sure that everything would be fine. I tried not to let myself get too high off of the feeling because it would be quite a fall should I get bad news. As I drove, I had tears in my eyes the whole time and was overwhelmed by the surge of emotions running thru me. The thoughts going thru my head wavered back and forth between practical and ridiculous. I was feeling highly annoyed by Bryan's constant pestering about how I'm feeling - even after I told him 150 times I didn't know how I felt. Of coarse HE was going out of his mind. I wondered if it was because he loves me or because I'm a burden. Should I even be asking myself that question? Probably not out loud.
I got there, weighed in, sat down and updated the nurse on what supplements I'm taking, what pains I'm having, how my energy level is, blah, blah, blah. Can we get on with this shit? I had a list of pains - all on my right side, all stemming from my neck. Neck, shoulder, shoulder blade, arm, hip, shin. The nurse thought it could be from the chemo still. I guess having poison running thru your veins for 6 months can take it's toll on the body.
Then I waited. And I waited. I didn't even hear Dr. Howard in the office. And then, I heard the nurses saying she was down in the lab looking at some tests. I was getting agitated because my mom was on her lunch break watching the kids and it was already a 1/2 hour past my appointment time. I guess that didn't bother me as much as having to wait for this "news". I read a prayer that was on the wall over and over and over. It went like this:
"One day at a time sweet Jesus, that's all I'm asking from you.
Just give me the strength to do every day what I have to do.
Yesterday's gone sweet Jesus and tomorrow may never be mine.
Lord help me today, show me the way, one day at a time."
Finally I heard her come back into the clinic. I heard her giving some bad new to someone, although I couldn't understand much of what she said with the door closed. Then there she was standing in front of me, looking down and she said "well your CT was perfect, but you're having all this pain." She looked at me, we talked, she checked me out some more, and we talked some more. So she prescribed five days of anti-inflammatories and if the pain doesn't get better, then I'll have to have some more scans. My MUGA is the same and my labs are good. So for now the news is good. There is a huge part of me that is thrilled and wants to exhale, but there is still that part of me that doesn't trust a fucking doctor as far as I can throw one.
I'm exhausted. I haven't been sleeping in my bed. I spent a night on the couch, a few in Raine's bed, and last night he slept in the basement. I was so glad to have my own bed back, but it didn't last long. I went to bed around 2am and the kids woke up at 5:30. Sleep hasn't come easy this last few weeks either - with his snoring, the fear of the tests, and all of my inner turmoil. I'm hoping to sleep a little better tonight; although I'm not sure where I'll be sleeping. He made a doctor's appointment for the snoring - I'm not sure when it is. I think I'm getting spoiled, sleeping by myself tho.
All of this emotion has brought back my inner poet. I don't remember it being hard. I guess it isn't that hard; maybe I'm just rusty. I have everything I want to say down pat, but I just can't get it to flow the way I want it to. Whenever I do get it flowing well, I come to a line that just junks the whole thing. It feels good to put my wants and desires into words and see them come to life. I've also busted out the old Jim Morrison poetry. I thought I wouldn't like it anymore now that I've aged, but a lot of it I like even more than I remembered liking it to begin with.
And now I'm rambling because I'm tired. I shall turn in my keyboard for the night.
Happy Thanksgiving!
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