Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

I’m back to where it all started. Same beautiful ocean view, different floor and room, but I’m back where it began.

I was ready to give Dr P a piece of my mind today. No, sir we are getting hydration at home and we are going to just do every two week appointments because this is insane. J takes the whole day off of work for labs, dressing change and a “Labs look good. See. You next week.” No sir this is crazy talk. I practice what I was going to say to him. They called my name to get my vitals. Heart Rate 122. Oxygen Level 84%. Dr. P is paged. What’s going on? Why are we paging the doctor? He comes in a few minutes later, he wants me admitted, a CT done and a lung swab. I didn’t even know you could swab your lungs. Surprise, surprise, you can.

I tell him. No. I’m not going to be admitted to COH. I can’t do this. I want to be near home. I want to be near my home hospital. I explained to him, I just can’t. He nodded and said okay. He called Dr. C (my old oncologist – he only does in-patients now) he switched me to Dr. G because he wasn’t taking out patients anymore. He calls him on the cell. “Hey M, it’s V. I’m sending Nina over giving you a heads up.” I can hear Dr. C “Tell her to page me when she arrives.” They exchange the goodbyes and that’s it. Is that how it is? Like…damn just like that? We Gucci? I gotta think about what I do…did. And yea it was just like that. If you knew the right people to call, we Gucci really quick. Know your carrier? Know your broker? Know the agent working on it…that’s all it takes! For some reason, I didn’t think the medical world worked like that? For some reason, I thought it operated differently. It always boils down to who you know. Who are you connected to. Who likes you.

J and I drove home and packed. It would be a few days. We learned from our first rodeo what you need and what you don’t need. Electronics, chargers, lip balm, ear plugs, slippers (the hospital gives you socks, but when you gotta pee at 3am no one wants to deal with damn socks), hand warmers and lotion (in my case coconut oil) cause the air is MOVING in your room…you are going to be ashy. First time I brought everything and the kitchen sink. Granted I was there for a little over a month…but still. I could have been just fine with the items I brought this time. But I didn’t know anything about it. I thought I was going to need yoga pants and a tank top…girl…where did you think you were going?? A retreat? We going to Chemo. CHEMO…there is no morning yoga happening. Still, I stuffed it into my suitcase. Oh yeah, I brought an actual suitcase. Those nurses, bless their hearts, must have thought I was a complete nut job. I think I’m a nut job in retrospect. But there is no “How to Cancer” guide. There is no book to navigate this. No one tells you the “pro tips” and if there were, I wouldn’t want to read it. Because quite frankly those lessons I learned gave me the strength to keep moving, to keep pushing…had I just read the “pro tips” I may have taken things for granted. Every single kindness I received, my heart honored.

So we check in, page Dr. C and I head into the ER. Blood, cultures, X-ray, CT with contrast so that you feel like you peed yourself. Those are the best. Holy sh*t I just peed myself. No, just the CT contrast. You good. Dignity intact.

Hoping to get on 8W but they were full, so I’m on 7W. Same view of the ocean, not the corner room I was in the first time but that is just okay. I’m not on 8W. I did that. I’ve done a lot since then. 8W was just the scratch of what I have needed to do. 8W was merely my starting line, I didn’t know it then. When I celebrated my birthday on 8W – I didn’t know I still had so so much to go. I wasn’t looking that far. I couldn’t look too far.

Now I’m on 7W. I’m wiser now but still just looking at the next one step; I can look back and see the road I took. But only one step when I look forward. Sleeping pills in. I’m off to dream.