Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

The people in the room next to ours had a full-on conversation at level 10 at 9:45pm. Not only was I nauseous, but my lower back was on fire. Level 8 fire. Between sobbing and breathing out the pain, I couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep. J found some earplugs, and I finally fell asleep. Thanks to the 2 liters of hydration, I was up at 1:40am to pee, and I stayed up. It’s not 4:00am. I am anxious again. My morning radiation has not been scheduled. There’s been an inability to get my schedule correct, so there’s a lot of extra legwork to get my care straightened out. Back to self-advocacy.

The marathon hasn’t started off easy at all, but anything worth having is worth fighting for. I’m trying to find some humor in it all but also to find what I potentially want to do. Maybe a career shift to doing something that matters. I’m naive to think hospitals aren’t there to make money but the people who work there directly affect the patients, especially the nurses. Now I’ve always stayed far away from the medical field because of my aversion to blood. We’re talking numb sweaty hands at a paper cut. But during one of my blood draws I had a conversation with my lab nurse and he pointed out that there are TONS of nurses that don’t ever deal with blood. In fact 90% he said was fecal and vomit. I can do both just fine. Just a hard pass for blood. He told me oncology nurses for starts deal mainly with hanging chemo, rarely is there blood – and when there is…there usually is a central line. I can fill a tube with blood through a central line. Like if you’re going to be extra at work – this extra would matter. My extra absolutely did not.

I got to check in at 6:45am to start the inquiry to why my radiation was cancelled. The system cancelled me – it wasn’t a human cancellation. No idea to why I was cancelled but clearly nothing worth having is easy. Radiation called that they have me scheduled despite the appointment cancellation. I was squared for 8:50am. I discussed my pain medication with the nurse but it couldn’t get release by pharmacy before I was wheeled down to radiology. I played my Taylor and did my session but unfortunately there is no one to transport me so I’m sort of stuck waiting here. Two patients have come and gone but I’m still here. It would be nice to lay down but again. Sometimes you just have to wait. There is an older lady weeping in the hall. She’s scared and seems like she’s in pain. Her lower back is in pain. A little boy around L’s just walked into radiation – my heart hurts for him and his mom. They are from south of Fresno, CA. Between the sobbing old lady in the hallway and the little boy setting up for his radiation – Cancer is pain. It sucks. The pain isn’t stabbing. It’s constant.