So, yes, I am well progressed on this unpleasant journey. There are no guarantees and this is not the only current journey in my life without any guarantees. In the "good old days" one walked up to the counter, paid the price, and walked away with reward in hand. No more. These days my career is medical procedures. Is it even worth it?
Long ago, in April of 2007 I became anemic, so I made an appointment with my doctor (scheduled four days later) and continued with my daily routines, work and all, until the day arrived. I was very weak, a condition I noticed after I had to lie down between taking my morning shower and getting dressed for the day. When I went upstairs I had to rest after the first flight of eight steps to catch my breath. When they told me that they could not see me until Wednesday morning I was a little skeptical about whether I would make it that long. "We will see", I told myself. Time went by. Wednesday arrived.
Everyone always wants me to go to the emergency room for this kind of thing. I am not so enthusiastic about the overblown expense and massive bureaucracy at the emergency room. I have another bureaucratic technique that I use sometimes when I think something is important and it is currently regular office hours. I show up in the doctor's office, inform them I am there, and ask them to "work me in". "Anytime in the next four hours will be just fine," I say. They urge me to go to the emergency room. I am so pleasant when I decline and seat myself to wait. Four hours is the same time it would take the emergency room to get to me. My doctor makes room for me much sooner.
In this case I was only feeling very very weak. I could feel the constant disco beat of my heart at 120 bps. Since then I know that is not unusual for me. I have well exceeded that with wildly irregular blood pressure and pulse rates during chemotherapy. (Their penalty is "hydration", which takes takes time and pushes the symptoms from one extreme to the other.)
Back in 2007, my doctor's blood tests came up on the low side, actually way on the low side, but there was a problem reaching the stomach doctor's office. I got in my car and continued onward to work. Just as well. My own doctor would have called an ambulance. Later that morning an assistant called me all but gasping with urgency. She instructed me to immediately call an ambulance, go to the hospital, and check myself into ICU.
That seemed silly to me since I had been driving myself everywhere for most of a week already. I got in the elevator and trudged out to the car at the other end of the parking lot. I drove to the hospital and finally found a parking spot. I trudged into admitting and announced my presence. They hustled me into a wheel chair and took me to ICU. I changed into uniform and sat in the bed while they hooked me up to all kinds of paraphernalia. Then they started the transfusions, one after another.
So now, eleven years later, my stomach is twitchy and my scar is itchy. It does not want for me to forget its suffering from the past. It does not like the chemo. My future is murky and I find myself wondering what my particular symptoms will be in the event of metastatic cancer? I speculate about what arrangements I should make for my family? Pointless speculation. I have made sensible arrangements already, years ago.
My mother always said that I was too sensitive. There are countless ways to be sensitive. One can have one's sense of justice outraged, either for oneself or for the helpless and vulnerable of the world. Fortunately, physical pain is not one of my great sensitivities, at least so says 23andme, and my experiences support that. I fear pain and I have experienced great pain, as in sciatica. That is the worst. I just know that I can find my way through it.
I am focused on some new projects this spring. I wonder about the cost/benefit equation for having these kinds of procedures done. My oncologist talks about another patient that is willing to be intubated, again, anything, so long as she can cling to life for another day or week. I will not be doing that. Aside from the suffering I would undergo, I will not inflict that suffering on those around me.
