A case of Why Me?

I'll start with what I wrote earlier on Facebook -

This day has been absolute shit. My oncologist left Stanford. My port completely failed to do a blood return for a solid two hours. Apparently I had a massive clot completely blocking the entry to the vein. They put in a drug that is supposed to clear it out within an hour, and it didn't, so they ran a line into my left hand. Super painful, but they finally got my blood drawn. Not 5 minutes after that, the clot started clearing up and we got blood return from the port. But they want to leave the painful thing in my hand just in case they can't use the port for my infusion. Waiting for the bloodwork to clear so they can start the infusion. It'll probably be another hour.

And it was.  I didn't get out of there until after 7.  Terminology for the uninitiated - "blood return" is when they pull blood back out - so they have these syringes preloaded with saline, and they set up a needle and short bit of tubing in the port so they theoretically only have to stick me once.  They push the saline in, and then pull the plunger back, and ideally you get blood back in the vacuum.  They tried 3 different access needles into my port.  They tried 18 syringes of saline.  Four different people.  It's the first time I've really had any pain associated with an infusion, and it sucked.  After about an hour they brought out the clot busting stuff and injected that.  We checked it every 15 minutes for an hour, and they suggested at the end of the hour that I go walk laps around the floor to see if increasing my circulation would help. 

That's pretty much when I broke.  I don't spend a lot of time feeling sorry for myself, but I did today.  My usual response is "Why not me?"  I've been incredibly lucky in my life, and I try to keep that in mind.  I'm still lucky, even with the cancer.  I have access to some of the best doctors in the world and good enough insurance that it probably won't bankrupt us.  I found it as soon as I possibly could have and got treatment before it spread. 

I don't necessarily believe in the power of positive thinking, but I do think that if you put a smile on your face and act with kindness and generosity, eventually you'll feel that kindness and generosity even if you have to fake it at first.  So that is my habit when I go in for infusions.  There are a lot of incredibly miserable people there.  It's not surprising, I feel for them, and I'll be where they are in another few months.  But I'm in no pain now.  I tolerate the drugs reasonably well so far.  I'm prepared for long delays - I bring my toys and those years of travel have left me able to amuse myself for hours and hours without a problem. 

But today, the dam broke.  Apparently when you flip from the rolling-with-it person they know you as to the silently crying as you do laps around the building person, they pull out the stops.  They cleared out a private room for me, which is where I was when they did the IV into my hand, and they let me wait there for an hour instead of going back out to the public waiting area while we waited for my labs.  I'm sure it was as much to keep me from upsetting the other patients as it was for me, but it was still nice of them.  I don't think I've just let myself break down for more than a few minutes since this started.

So it's done now.  I'm nervous for next week, but at least we know the anti clot stuff works and I'm not going to let them poke me for an hour before asking for it next time.

Feeling the usual sickness coming, and I'm pretty tired.  I expect to sleep the day away tomorrow no matter what happens tonight.