Patience is a virtue

I keep telling myself that patience is a virtue. I wonder who said that. It’s a saying I’ve heard all of my life. This week has required a good deal of that virtue.

It wasn’t particularly trying. It was just one of those weeks when one seems to spend more time in the waiting room than in doing anything else more or less important.

Monday began with the journey to the Imaging Center. It is, as you may imagine from the name, the place where all those weird machines reside and they slide you in and out, lock you in place and continually ask how you are doing. What can one say? “I’m really having a good time,” or “it would be wonderful if I could spend a day here every week.” Snippy remarks like that come to mind. 

First they hand you two bottles of water they have spiked with some substance that I find tasteless. This is supposed to be downed in a few minutes. Most of it disappeared within me when I was fetched by a tech to have my port accessed.  This was news. No one told me my port would be accessed so I had not availed myself of the numbing cream to be used before they drive the spike into your chest. I felt the stab really well and continued to be uncomfortable for the rest of the morning.

The MRI was next on the schedule. The object was my cranium. Therefore ear plugs were inserted and my head locked in something that resembled that piece of attire familiar to anyone who has viewed the movie “Friday the thirteenth.”  Then the inevitable question, “Are you comfortable?” As you are being inserted into the machine the tech says “Don’t worry it only takes 20 minutes.” 

Part of the time therein consists of sounds not unlike a jack hammer working on the pavement. There are other otherworldly sounds but I’ve forgotten those because the jack hammer is so memorable. At last they pull you out and relief floods over one. Now the tech says “I’m putting something in your port which will made you feel warm. Only six minutes more until we’re finished.” More of the above mentioned sounds are inflicted upon the patient.  I keep telling myself, “self, it’s better than having them crack open your skull and look around in there!”

Next on the menu was the CT scan which is a piece of cake. The only weird thing is the man’s voice that says “Breathe in. Hold your breath. Breathe.” One gets another injection of the stuff that causes the hot flash, another pass through the machine and it’s over. 

When the dressing was removed and the port deaccessed it felt like my skin was being ripped off. Upon arriving at home a look in the mirror revealed a lot of redness around the port and some really dry skin. Oh well.

Tuesday I arrived at the Prairie Center for labs. They access the port there and draw the blood and then leave the port in for the infusion. As a laid bare my chest the nurse took one look and proclaimed “I’m not touching that!” Extreme care is exercised when accessing the port because a catheter runs from there right into the heart. Special gloves, a mask and other precautions are taken. So, the nurse had to draw blood from my arm. There is more waiting while the blood is being processed.

The wait for the doctor’s appointment then commences. One is supposed to check in a half hour early and the doctor was about forty-five minutes late. He brought the news that the blood work was fine. He also had the results of the scans. The brain shows no sign of cancer. The two liver lesions are smaller than the last time. One of the lung lesions has returned to nearly its original size as when I was diagnosed. So there was good news and not so good news. Treatment will continue as it has until the next set of scans which seems to be about every three months.

An antibiotic was prescribed for the possible infection around the port including capsules from the pharmacy and an addition to my infusion cocktail. The medicine for the infusion was delivered rather rapidly, the robots being very efficient and not distracted by others who would like to chat.  Another jab in the arm was necessary because of the port issue. 

Wednesday involved my usual activities. No time spent in the waiting room!

Thursday was my appointment with the optometrist who checked on my eyes to make sure they were healing as they are supposed to.  He pronounced that all was well and please come back in three weeks for the determination of my new prescription. Good news!

The weather has been decent temperature-wise for January. Today the high was 40! Because the temps have been in the high twenties and low thirties we have had fog, freezing fog and freezing drizzle at times which makes travel a little treacherous.

The port situation is vastly improved with the antibiotic treatment. I feel mostly good about the reports. 

Thanks once more for all your concerns, prayers, and thoughts. They are a blessing to me.