One Sick Puppy

NOW I think I have it!

Okay, folks -- this has been a -- well, hm-m-m-m, ah -- INTERESTING day!

I'm in my kid's downstairs office and she's upstairs in bed feeling, well, I'll quote her various comments over the last few hours:

(gasped between shallow breathing:)

"This is all new territory"

"Please bring me my big yellow vomit bowl" (Her faithful companion for seven years since her various serious health issues began.)

"I'm feeling all cold inside -- not chills,exactly -- from the inside out -- never felt this kind of cold before"

"Please turn off the TV -- the food commercials make me want to throw up"

"My head hurts -- not exactly like a headache -- different"

"This is all new territory" (again)

"Yes, I'm feeling the prayers and warm fuzzy thoughts of my wonderful family and friends"

"I signed on for THIS?!?!"

"This is all new territory" (again)

"I'm feeling sorta dizzy -- can you help me up the stairs?"

"Please tell everyone I love them and thank them for being there for me -- in thoughts and prayers"

"This is all new territory" (again)

The infusion itself took less than three hours. Such wonderful nurses! Honestly, in all my 22+ years in the health field (and as a patient for my own minor needs) I've never met a better bunch of health professionals -- from the physicians down to the clerks and the people who take out the trash. Dr. Buys, the oncologist, makes us feel like Gretchen is the only patient she's ever treated -- she's SO concerned and personable. Amazing bedside.

We have no idea how long our patient will feel so crummy or if it's the anti-nausea meds (four!) that are making her feel so bad -- like Gretchen says, this IS all new territory.

Alan keeps wondering why she won't come to our house and be sick. She explains it to us very simply: "Mom, Alan, I've been so ABnormal for over two months. Here in my own home, I feel like I'm sorta normal again. I just want so bad to feel NORMAL again." So, of course, I'll stay as long as I'm needed. We understand and sympathize completely.

Last eve she had some wonderful, crazy friends in to help celebrate the lighting of Candle #1 on her hanging advent wreath. She was feeling SO "normal" for a change . . . it brightened her outlook and made this trying day easier to bear, she tells me.

So, folks, there's the first chapter of Phase II. I'm feeling a little teary right now because I keep thinking of the couple we sat next to in the infusion lab this morning. Scott and Megan. Two little kids at home -- Megan is younger than Gretchen. She had the exact same cancer as Gretchen three years ago, bilateral mastectomy as well. She's back starting chemo again because she has mestastasis to her lymph nodes, liver and bone. I'm just sick thinking about it. So I'll try not to . . .

I'll blog again tomorrow,
Can't thank you enough for your care and concern
Lindy-Lou the Mom

PS -- She said to thank all of you who wanted to visit her in the past few weeks but are experiencing the cold-ish and flu-ish bugs this season of the year always brings -- and stayed away. If she had a cold or flu on top of these miserable post-chemo symptoms, she'd be in bad shape. So this includes a HUGE "thank you!" from me, as well.

PPS -- to end on a chuckle: I recall vividly the day her amazing realtor, Steve, brought her here to see this new house last spring. One of her first comments was: "Wow I just love how this kitchen and bedroom are next to each other. This way, when I have surgeries, I can make my own food and be right next to my bedroom when I have to run to the bathroom to throw up!"

Steve laughed out loud.

Then he looked at all three of us and saw that we weren't laughing.

He said that was the very first time he'd ever heard THAT reason for a client to like a particular house he'd shown them.

Little did we know what lay ahead . . .



(Matt -- you may want to forward this PPS part to Steve)