Yesterday was day 1 of the two day festival that is known as Gerry’s Day 100 Checkup. It’s when we return to the Mayo for testing and a doctor visit to follow up 100 days after his stem cell transplant.
And it was a huge frustration. Thank god I had my new tiny rubber chicken with me. Squeeze it and it lays an egg. I laid a lot of eggs yesterday.
First of all, so there’s no worry as you read this, everything with Gerry is FINE! He is recovering as well and and as nicely as anyone can. His numbers are good, his tests were stable (we were told that – especially with the bone scans – no change is good news! “Don’t expect improvement, be glad if it’s staying constant…”)
Basically, Gerry is a textbook case of how a recovery should go.
Now for the frustrations. Which were actually not earth shaking, just – well – nerve wracking…
We arrived at 10:00 for blood tests and then on for full body xrays so they can compare his current state of bone to his previous state of bone.
Then off for the bone marrow biopsy, but for some reason we had to wait over an hour past the appointment time. Everything at Mayo is scheduled, so we were falling farther and farther behind.
And things got a little worse. The woman who checked us in came over to tell us that there had been a problem in X-ray so we had to return to have a shot taken again. No big deal. Not really…
And everyone who walked into the area we were sitting commented, “Wow, I’d had to have to be driving in THAT!”
With every minute it was getting worse, and we knew we WOULD be driving in it.
And as time was passing we also knew we probably wouldn’t be arriving home when we expected (before the kids got home from school) but long AFTER that.
Frantic calls to friends to arrange some kind of backup for childcare – but we’re still new enough in town that we just don’t have a lot of backup available.
I pretty much almost lost it. So many of the nerves of the past year came to a head in that moment – but I was able to walk away and freak quietly by myself. Freak. Me. Out.
When Gerry got back from the biopsy, we STILL had a visit with the kidney doctor – for which we were almost 2 hours late – and which also made both of us uneasy as we thought that Gerry’s kidney function numbers were very good and didn’t understand WHY we had to go see the nephrologist.
I knew we had to rush – did I mention that in between freaks I had to run up 2 floors to pick up a prescription, run down to the pharmacy to turn it in, then run back up to Gerry? – and I knew that Gerry wasn’t in a rushing frame of mind (did I mention he’d been sedated?)
So I innocently suggested that he get IN the wheelchair we’d been using as a walker and I’d PUSH him to the next appt so we could move faster.
And I met with the resistance of a man who’s been stripped and poked and prodded – and only has his ability to walk to prop up his pride. And I was about to thrust him into a wheelchair and push him around.
Okay, so he has the ability to walk AND a sense of humor…]
We got to the appointment, and waited, and waited, and waited. I thought about running over to pick up the prescription for Gerry’s pain meds, but I was feeling just pissy enough to actually think, ‘Eh, let him stew for another half an hour…’
Then I picked up the St. Paul paper that was laying there and turned to the – of course – obits. And what should I read but a moving paragraph about a 51 year old man who’d lost his 5 year battle with multiple myeloma (and whose funeral is a few blocks from our home later this week.)
Very. Quiet. Freak.
So I ran over and picked up the drugs. Nothing like an obit to encourage kind thoughts.
We were finally called into the nephrologists office – thank heaven we weren’t near a window or I would have been counting snowflakes – and there we (you guessed it) waited.
It wasn’t their fault, we were SO late for our appt, but it wasn’t our fault, either.
HIGH-larious moment of the day…
The doctor walked into the room and basically told us that after chatting with Gerry’s doc, he determined that they’d gotten our files mixed up and Gerry didn’t have to be there at all.
I think I broke the record for saying good-bye to the doc, thank-you-very-much, wrangling Gerry into the wheelchair and booking to the door.
Booking – it was a very 70’s moment.
We decided we’d leave Gerry warm in the lobby while I ran and got the car. Good plan.
And at the car I realized I’d left the keys with Gerry. Good plan which was not well thought out.
What a day, huh?
Suffice to say we got home about 2 minutes after Max, life is good, and today our trip was almost a total reversal.
A pretty day driving home, no blowing snow, lots of blue sky, and our appointments went well. Gorgeous!
We adore our doctor – she’s funny and smart and said all the
right things without fibbing or glossing over the hard parts. I wish she was a cousin.
And speaking of cousins, today started with an email from my cousin, Jan – who is rather like a sister to me and pretty much the last ‘immediate’ family member who’s still around – that her breast cancer has recurred.
Damn. I’m still trying to process this – I feel that I’ve almost been living in a state where I’m standing outside myself for much of the past year, and this just isn’t sinking in.
So tonight – after taking Hannah and a friend to see The Golden Compass (I promised I’d take her on the first day, we’ve both read and love the book) I’m home, finally, in my comfy chair and relaxing. I love home.
We may go tubing this weekend (me and the kids, with Gerry watching) out at Green Acres. I think we all deserve a chance to blow off some steam.
On second thought – maybe we’ll go on Sunday. I deserve a day off.