Wow! What a difference a day makes. I’m not entirely sure why I was so wiped out yesterday; the hospital experience was not terribly stressful. There were a couple of minor issues, though. Despite my mantra of not sweating the little things, sometimes it’s the little things that just push you over the edge!
I’ve been having an ongoing battle with the coordinator of the clinical trial in which I am enrolled. Now, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m something of a Type A personality; I’m what you would call a detail oriented person (at least on some areas of my life — though, my Mom would argue that housekeeping is not one such area). It was very difficult for me to accept that, the coordinator could not give me times for my various appointments, not to mention that she had no idea why I would need an appointment with the radiologist, even though the radiologist asked that I meet with him once a week.
I have since come to realize that my Mondays include the following steps: (1) radiation therapy; (2) check in at the Medical Oncology department to get my lab orders; (3) have labs drawn; (4) see my oncologist; and (5) go to Ambulatory Care to have my port accessed and my chemo-pump attached. The first two weeks, I had my labs drawn on the same floor as the Medical Oncology department (where there is a relatively short wait). This week, I show up and the tell me I have to go down to Ambulatory Care to get my labs drawn. The challenge here is that there were A LOT more people here, so I ended up waiting 30 or so minutes to have my labs drawn. My question: why was it okay to have my labs drawn on the 2nd floor for the first 2 weeks, but not now?
Now I know having to go downstairs was a REALLY minor change in my expectations, but when combined with the other communication issues, I just got grumpy. On top of that, I had to wait in the Ambulatory Care unit for a couple of hours until the pharmacists got my chemo mixed up, plus the nurse just rubbed me the wrong way. Again, all in all, these are minor issues, but the confluence of them all annoyed me to no end. That, on top of staying up to late the night before, and you have “set the table” for a grumpy and tired Merle.
Last night, I took my younger son to a special scout meeting (he’s working on the First Aid merit badge which my older son already has), brought him home, and went to bed. Nine and hour hours of sleep later and I felt like a new person (I was even described as unusually perky). As one friend pointed out, the oncologist told me that I would feel moderately yucky (again, this is a specific medical term) during the second two weeks of treatment; instead, I’m feeling pretty good and that I should focus and hold onto that.