No Spring Chicken #24

Janet is over there giving me the hairy eyeball because I've been introducing her as the mean woman today. OK, some of you know Janet and will find it hard to believe that she is mean. I'd have had a hard time believing it myself, except for what happened. Let me lay it out for you and you can decide for yourself if she is mean.

Janet, as some of you know, is a world class pie baker. Her crusts are to die for, and the fillings may vary a bit in just how juicy they are, but that is due to fruit-moisture variance. But they are always delicious. This is why I asked and she agreed to make the pie crust for my chicken pot pie for dinner on Monday night. So, last Thursday we bought enough Granny Smith apples to make a nice apple pie. When does she bake it? Monday night. Knowing that Tuesday morning I'm getting chemo and will be nauseous and limited in what I am interested in eating, and that anticipation will prevent me from having much appetite on Monday evening. She could have baked it Thursday evening, or Friday anytime, or Saturday when she wasn't up at church weeding, or Sunday when she wasn't at church, or even Monday when she got back from counting money at church. But, no, she waits until Monday night when I won't be hungry for desert because we ate the whole chicken pot pie I fixed for dinner. Now, she claims she had a good reason. She wanted to make all the pie dough at once. Both for the apple pie and for the chicken pot pie. Of course, that was too much for the food processor to chop all at once, so I had to come rescue her in the middle of her dough making. But she deemed that easier than doing it twice. But to make a pie I won't be able to eat for days, knowing how good her pies are? That is just plain mean. So I told Mariam, the nurse, about Janet being mean, and she agreed. Then I told the doctor she was mean, too. Which is when I got the hairy eyeball. But he didn't ask why she was mean. He was smart enough to stay out of it.

I'm sitting here waiting for the chemo. They have checked to see that I am me five times now. The order has gone in for Rituxin, but it takes a while to fill the order and even knowing I was coming they don't fill the orders for chemo until the patient is there, the doctor has seen them, and they have checked to insure it is the right patient. They'll check a few more times to see I'm me before they begin the infusion, too. It is a myriad-checks-make-right system. So while I wait I'm going back to conquoring the world as Alexander in Sid Meyer's Civilization game.

I've been exchanging emails (over VPN) with my regular doctor (Jillian Worth) and my oncologist (Kamal Chatta) over a lump that Jeanene (Physical Therapist) found while working on my neck on Monday last week. I haven't said anything about this one, mostly because I wanted a better handle on what it was before mentioning it. Seems like it may be a lipoma or a sebaceous cyst. I've got to do some things to it to see if it goes away, but it only seems to matter if I decide to shave my head. Then it would show.

The beeper went off and they have put in the saline bag to flush the last of the medicine out of the tubes (and into me). That just beeped, too, so now they are wrapping me up to go home. Done by 2:10pm this week. Starting at 10am is soooo much better than 1pm (like last time).

Home, now and relaxing after walking Clair and doing her retrieving. She has a job, knows her job, and doesn't feel right if she doesn't get to do it. So I try to get the retrieving in every day. Janet doesn't retrieve with Clair. That is my time with her. One crazy offshoot of this is that if I take her out to relieve herself she thinks we are going to play. OK, when she was younger (0-10 years) we would get out and retrieve 2-3 times a day. But now that she is old and creaky (12.75 years is old for a lab), I try not to do it more than once each day. Otherwise she gets real limpy for a couple of days and can hardly get up on her own. I also limit it to 3 tosses each time. I also only throw the dummy down the driveway, since she is falling down a lot. I got tired of hearing the yelps when she couldn't dodge some stick or branch like she was used to when she was younger. But she is still eager to go! Kinda like me when I row - want to do it, but not gonna race any more.

All in all, a good day of treatment. I feel pretty good, a little sore where they left the IV in for tomorrow's repeat, but otherwise not having any problems. I'll have to remember where I put the special meds I am supposed to take tonight and tomorrow morning. At quartet rehearsal yesterday Ric mentioned that I don't look as totally blown away as I was last time. That is good. I think that comes from better use of the medicines, better medicines, better knowledge of what to expect and no surprises. That and pacing myself better this time. Just because I feel fine, doesn't mean I will if I get out and do something hard or long.