Brie, Gouda, or Smokey Cheddar?

I know it’s been a week since my last posting. The truth is, it was a miserable weekend, and I didn’t even feel good enough to whine about it, which says something. Here’s what’s happening.

Since I still have Miss Piggy feet in spite of the diuretics, my doctor decided to schedule me for an echocardiogram, which is similar to an ultrasound, but of the heart. It’s not unpleasant at all: lie on the table, get some warm goo on the skin, and someone with a wand thingie (yes, that’s the technical term) rolls it around and generates pictures on a computer screen. My job was to lie there quietly. Sometimes the technicians would talk about what was on the screen (“See? That’s the mitral valve. We want a picture of that,”) and other times they were very, very quiet. Yes, I know what it means when they are quiet. I also know that they won’t tell me a darn thing. Once I left that office, I went home for some lunch, and debated as to whether or not to return to work. The phone rang, and it was the oncologist’s office. They had the results already, and wanted to know how quickly I could get over to Radiology for a chest x-ray. I was there in 20 minutes. (Sorry, co-workers!) Once I left Radiology, I headed over to Oncology because it’s Chemo Tuesday, and I hadn’t been pushed over the edge just yet. My oncologist was out of town so I saw another one in the practice. Dr. S. decided that since I had fluid around my heart, and fluid in my lung, there was just no need to add more fluid in the form of chemo, and wanted a thoracentesis performed today. As in right now, if the doctors could squeeze me in. After giving it about 2 seconds’ thought, I declined that offer. After all, I’ve been feeling this pressure for weeks now, what’s one more day? So thoracentesis # 6 is scheduled for Wednesday morning. Yes, tomorrow. And yes, I did get chemo today. But I had to fight for it. (Am I insane?)

All in all, it’s been a very hard week, physically and emotionally. During chemo weekend, I was exhausted, swollen, bloated, cranky, and developed an odd red rash. I couldn’t visit with Mom & Dad as often as I wanted to and that was frustrating. Talking on the phone is difficult for the three of us, so even when we did communicate that way, it was frequently more confusing than anything. The good news is that Mom and Dad are better, so that’s less stress. The illness finally has a name and is treatable, so it got treated and sent home. The scheduled procedure is in the customary rehab, and is doing very well. It’s hard for me to visit either of them; just walking to the door or down the hall is quite a strain and sometimes I just have to stop and rest. I swear, if it wasn’t happening to me, I wouldn’t believe it.

I promise that tomorrow I’ll be gracious and count my many blessings. But for tonight I’m just going to whine. Pass the cheese.

¶ 5:52 PM