Saturday, Bloody Saturday

It is not what U2 had in mind, but I did spend a weekend day having 2 units of blood infused into my veins.  Technically, this is considered both an  infusion and a transfusion.  I'll just call it blood-fusion, to make it sound like an emerging cuisine.

No, I was not intending to follow in Lance's footsteps, and again, for the record, I have no intention of competing in world-class cycling. So, why did i need this? As you know, chemotherapy works (generally speaking) by attacking cells that grow quickly, and can lower the growth of those cells.  Red blood cells are produced  in the bone marrow and they grow rapidly, so chemo can compromise the body's ability to manufacture them.  A healthy range of hemoglobin (one of the components of red blood cells) is 12--15.5 for women; lower than 8 is cause for concern.   My count on Valentine's Day was only 7, so, Dr S and team were appropriately concerned, and ordered a blood-fusion pronto.

While I can think of things I'd rather do on a Saturday, the blood-fusion wasn't actually so bad.  Kind of like chemo--it sounds really horrible, when in fact you pretty much just sit there.  For a long time.  Like 6 hours. (I have already been challenged on the amount of time this took by friend M, another healthcare lawyer, who claimed that I may be exaggerating,, as an earlier blog post said 5 hours, and in person at a bar in Cambridge on Sunday night, I mentioned it was 6 or more . . ).  Thank you friend M, for reading and listening to me so carefully!  Thanks also for arranging that meeting for today, so I can now say "I went to Harvard Law School" (for 1 day).  :) But I digress.

Unlike my chemo, the blood-fsion took place at a hospital, in a private room.  I was extremely well-taken care of by BFF D (aka artist/creator of the 'Sunbreast" painting on my blog header), as well as Nurse Ron (N-Ron), and Pefect Husband (Ph).

Since Ph was out of town Saturday morning, BFF D picked me up at my house, a huge anxiety-minimizer, as I am not good in the morning, and likely to just go back to sleep rather than get anywhere at 8:30 in the morning.  We got Starbucks (coffee, breakfast, AND lunch for me), and she stayed with me through several hours of blood-fusion.  BFF D is a Jewish mother (as am I, so I can say that)--and was extreemly attentive and responsive to my requests such as--"can you get me a pen?", and  "I dropped the pen, can you pick it up for me?"  "Can you get me some ice, my mouth really hurts.  (Note that recent, severe mouth/jaw pain is a separate but parallel issue, to be addressed in a later post) BFF D created a great little ice bag using surgical gloves--it was the perfect size, shape & flexibility!

To explain these requests a bit, I was very well, yet tentatively positioned, with blood bags/catheter leading into the port in my chest; pillow folded perfectly behind my back; Ipad balanced on my lap; and ice/surgical glove-pack on my neck/jaw.  So of course I couldn't pick up my own pen! N-ron observed one of these requests being addressed and said, "Now I get the Diva part." Perceptive, that guy. 

Perhaps I learned a bit of Diva-like behavior from my Great Aunt S, the NY artist who was tres sophisticated.  Great Aunt S had polio as a child; resulting in the complete loss of movement of one of her arms, as well as a limp in her gait.  The family pulled together to send her to college (the only girl that did so), thinking she might not marry or have a man take care of her due to her condition.  Great Aunt S was expert at holding court, and directing those around her as to what to do, what food to take out of the fridge, what plate to put it on, how to arrange it, where to put the flowers.  It was a joy to be around her and follow her directives.  And, in fact Great Aunt S had more husbands & boyfriends than anyone.  Great Aunt S rocked! 

Back to me, Diva junior.  After BFF D left, I actually took a nap, for almost 2 hours. In fact N-ron brought me a heated blanket and didn't tease me at all.  Ph showed up to take me home, my body chock full of red blood cells. (I wonder how much those blood cells weigh??)

Thank you BFF D, N-Ron, and Ph. And thanks to so many of you for your kind words and sending of good karma.  It means so much to me.

Stay tuned for my next update:  SCANCAKES !!

I NEED A PEDICURE!!

I took a day off on Friday, to make up for the fact that I'm working, traveling to Boston for a business meetng, on Presidents' Day.  I was really looking forward to a day of no work and no obligations, and planned to sleep late without guilt, go to yoga, sit at a cafe with a latte and the newspaper, and most excitingly, meet my friend and outside counsel B (OCB) for an afternoon mani-pedi at a fancy place.  (I won't name it, but the door is red. :) Oh, and somwhere in there, cruise by Sibley hospital to pick up the contrast agent to drink before my scan on Tuesday (to wash down those pancakes I'm craving!)

Well, cancer once again put a damper on my well-laid plans.  

Following my late Thursday visit to Dr. S, two obligations were added to my Friday Fun day: 1) schedule an appointment with an endodontist to try to determine why I'm having significant mouth/jaw pain, and 2) make a quick visit to Suburban Hospital for blood "typing and crossing."

My morning began in a relaxed pace, and I was miraculously able to get a same day 1:00 appt with enodondist/dentist J (EDJ), so I decided to skip yoga.  I ended up spending almost 3 hours at EDJ's office as he tried to get to the root of the problem. (yes, pun intended!)  It was very painful, as several teeth are so sensitive that even touching them lightly made me jump out of the chair, and there are sore spots in my gums where 4 wisdom teeth were recently extracted.  (yes, I am just a ball full of medical/dental fun these days!).  EDJ was very nice and gentle, but poking around and placing film in my mouth for x-rays was excrutiaing for all of those involved.  By 2:30, I knew I would not have time to get to Sub hospital and to the salon by 3:15, so OCB's assistant moved our appointments to 4:15.  By 3:30, the mouth pain team had accomplished taking x-rays and a CT scan, but EDJ still had no clue as to the cause of, or treatment for, my dental pain.  I like surprises, but have never been a big fan of mysteries, and I abhor them when related to my health.

When I finally finished--the end part of the end-odontist, it was 3:40, and now I knew I would also miss the 4:15 fancy salon appt.  I called OCB in tears . .  I'm so sorry, I don't think I can make it . . OCB said, oh don't worry, its fine . .  is there anything I can do, anything you need?

"Yes. I NEED A PEDICURE!"

I got through hospital admissions, and having blood drawn, despite a mean desk agent who yelled at me that I needed to have an old-fashioned paper prescription with me..  (I in fact didn't, Dr S's office had set it up and sent everything they needed electronically.)  A nice couple came over and intercepted, and told the desk guy to lighten up and call my Doctors' office himself, as I was shaking by then, the tears were coming once again, and I had bad cell phone reception.  I told the mean desk guy: "This is a freakin' hospital--you're supposed to be nice to people!"  That'll teach him a lesson, I'm sure.

Less-mean lab guy took a blood sample, and I was on my way, wearing 2 hospital bracelets fashionably stacked with my other bracelets.  (I think this will be a trend by next week, don't you?) I wondered whether I would be tracked down as a hospital escapee, or perhaps the bracelets would get me a free drink later on, or entry to a concert.



I met OCB at our local, cheapie nail salon, where you don't need an appointment, and they pretty much  stay open all evening, until whenever paying clients stop showing up. I finally relaxed.  The pedicure was worth the wait.  OCB brought beverages and snacks, and we caught up, completely forgetting to talk business.  Oh well, there will be plenty of time for that.  Thank you OCB!!

Still to come: Saturday, bloody Saturday . . .