You know how I now feel about Thursdays. Total torture all wrapped up into a 10 hour day.
Chemo for 6 1/2 hours.
Today began as the last three chemo/Thursdays began. Up and feed "Franklin" 15 mg. Valium in the feeding tube at 7:30 to be good and onboard for the dreaded mask.
Apply the Lidocane at 8:30 to numb the port for the IV.
Be at the blood lab by 9:30.
Walk to the radiation clinic for 45 minutes of red-hot skin-shredding beams of radiation then back to the infusion clinic for chemo. (How is it I now know what an "Infusion Clinic" is anyway?)
61/2 hours of chemo then drag my poor man home and put him to bed and hope he doesn't hurl.
Today was an Epic Fail from the start.
I feed "Franklin" and add the Valium.
Out the door and I drive to the Blood Lab. We wait.
I love the Hurry up and wait process. It's much like a busy airport, huh?
They call him in and the phlebotomist is new. She takes blood via the numbed port but then takes the IV out! Grrr. It should remain there for the Chemo drug so not to be stuck twice.
Blood taken and down the elevator to rush to the Radiation Clinic.
Guess What? It's broken AGAIN! Did you hear that silent Yippeeee! From my husband. We both breathe a bit of a sigh of relief. I know... It's not doing any good if the treatment isn't administered but I think a radiation-break is in order. The skin around the neck and throat are almost purple and peeling, swollen this morning so yay, Yippeeee!
We head to the Chemo building for the Cisplatin. Fun.
We get there and of course, wait.
This time they tell us we are waiting on lab reports.
We are ushered into a room to speak to a Nurse Practitioner. You guessed it. The blood values were all wrong. Low platelets, low white and red blood counts. Bad BUN and Creatinine. Am I so wrong to be happy to be a FAIL???
It's like we got a hall pass for the day. Freedom!
I am going to tell you of a fail of a different kind today.
Last night I had a 2 year old melt down. My youngest grand daughter and I have much in common, it seems. When she is mad or frustrated or doesn't get her way, what does she do? She rears herself back, her face turns red and she melts it down like a pro. She's not quite two years old.
Last night I became Tenley in the most childish way. Let me tell you this is like living in a pressure cooker
( Insert lame excuse right here)
Our lives have been turned upside down and inside out and rolled over with a 12 ton bus and 15 Mack Trucks.
It completely got ahold of me last night and I lost it. Lost it right in the middle of the kitchen. I felt as tho I couldn't go on for another minute without exploding so I did. I did it right but did it wrong.
I raged inside and then for 3.2 seconds I had the most delicious wonderful feeling as I took my MacBook Pro and dashed it to the ground and watched it as it broke apart in to a hundred electronic pieces on the ceramic floor.
As I said, for 3.2 seconds it felt so right. It felt so medicinal. So Deliciously evil.
When the anger and rage and horror of what I had just done wore off.... I wasn't feeling so good again but I cried and raged inside. Got rid of it and felt regret as I looked at the pile that once was my laptop.
Not regret for my broken laptop but regret for my broken husband and our broken lives. I had visions of how I could take this cancer and dash it to the ground in the meanest, ugliest, wretched way and watch it break into a million bits and be gone forever to be thrown away.
3.2 seconds of sheer glee. If only.
Oh, to be two years old again....