This Officially Sucks

As if chemo was ever a good thing.  But for the last two and a half weeks I've been laid out flat and have lost my voice.  That exhaustion coupled with my inability to talk has left me feeling dejected and isolated, not a good combo.

I just spoke with my Oncologist and the situation has gotten even more interesting.  She's suggesting that I take a week off chemo. What?! A week off chemo?!  A chance for this garbage to get back in there and growing again? No way.

But like a stern mother she explained that she doesn't want me ending up in the hospital. So now I have to go down to George Washington University Hospital at 8:00 am Friday morning, the day of my chemo, and get a chest xray and have a nurse listen to my lungs to assess whether I'm up for it.  I'll damn well be up to it, you can bet your ass.

But the challenge is the extra steps in the process of getting up early, running around to grab the xray order, sitting in the waiting room of radiology, laying on an xray table, running back around to have my lungs listened to, calling my doctor, and then getting the okay to go ahead. 

I called this crap in to the Oncologist's office on Tuesday. The lovely nurse practitioner suggested I drive out to suburban Maryland where their other office is located to see the doctor.  I refused, saying I was too exhausted to make that trip (it really is a haul and frankly I couldn't get off the couch I was so exhausted).  I was hoping they'd find someone at the George Washington University Hospital location to help with this. Thursday is when I first heard back from the doctor and she suggests the xray and a nurse chest listen. So once again, I'm operating last minute.  If she'd called on Wednesday, I could have done this malarkey today (Thursday) and been good to go for Friday's chemo.

Lesson learned. If the doctor doesn't call back on Wednesday, call her.  I'm tired, dejected, and now I'm angry.  But as a good friend said to me recently, "Susan, when you stop being angry, that's when I'll worry about you."  I'm really angry.  They have mobile veterinary units nowadays. You'd think they could have mobile medical units or at least a way for my doctor to work with her other location to help an exhausted patient.  This is the kind of stuff that drives me batty.  Tell them I'm a dog and send over a mobile veterinary unit. I'm sure I can lay on that exam table just as easily as I can one made for humans.  At least that would save these exhausted legs the trip.

And, oh, if anyone asks? I'm a badly-bred wire fox terrier who will bite your face off if you stick your hand in my food dish or try to take away my blanket.  Just saying.