Don't ask me about my last two weeks

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Actually, you don't have to ask--I'll tell you. Three weeks ago, Dr. Cheson marked me fit for Chemo, which I started on Monday week before last. At the same time, Liz was in a five-day, all-day class and thus had to work evenings to catch up on her work. So my day--for five days--was 1) Wake up at 5:00 a.m. and drive to Georgetown, 2) Chemo treatment, 3) Drive home, catch a 30-minute nap, 4) Drive to work, 5) Work until around 4:45 p.m., 6) Pick Robbie up at summer camp, 6a) Optional: stop at the grocery store to restock, 7) Feed Robbie and Sunshine, 8) Bathe Robbie, 9) Turn Robbie over to Liz when she comes in and 10) Try to get to bed by 8:30 p.m. so I could get up and do it again the next day. I usually had only a half an hour or so between steps 9 and 10. That schedule worked fine for a couple of days, but by Friday I was fried (get it? Friday? Fried? It's a pun). Anyway, on Friday I didn't get Chemo. Instead I got a growth factor shot to increase my red and white blood cell production. I was wiped out.

I napped most of the weekend trying to recover. Last Tuesday Liz left for Seattle and Rob and I were bachelors again. It's a routine we're used to, but this week we had a wrinkle thrown in. On Monday my blood work showed great (for me) RBC and WBC counts. By Wednesday, I had picked up a low grade fever (~99.5) that seemed to flare in the evenings and go away by morning. I had been told not to really worry until the temp got above 100, and to head for the emergency room if it got up to 100.4.

Friday night, the night Liz was scheduled to return from Seattle, I was feeling a little punk. I took my temperature--100.8. Oh Crap. This was around 7:00 p.m. I took the temp again after 15 minutes. 100.4. I packed bags for Robbie and me. Knowing Liz would be in around midnight, I walked out into the middle of our front yard (the only place at our house with a cell phone signal that night) and started calling the "where can I leave Robbie" phone tree. None of the usual suspects answered the phone. Slight panic, but still had some ideas if push came to shove.

By 9:00, with a temperature fluctuating between 100.2 and 100.7, I called the Oncology Emergency number, where the operator alerted the on-call oncologist. At the same time, Peg (or as her dad calls her, "Farm Girl") texted me to say she was available for Robbie-rescue. The oncologist, Dr. Fitzpatrick, called and we discussed my situation. I told her about the fever history I had this week, she saw that I had good numbers at the start of the week, and decided that I didn't have to come in that night, but that I should get blood tests in the morning.

Unbeknownst to me, Liz was in travel hell on the West Coast, having missed on flight due to a double bridge closure on her route to the airport. They closed the bridges so that the Blue Angels could practice. I've always hated those prima donnas (they caused us problems during Pensacola flight training). The airline rebooked her on a midnight flight, then lost the booking. She was on hold with the Navy travel folks for over two hours. They finally got her on a flight at 1:00 p.m. on Saturday. She got home around 1:00 a.m. Sunday morning.

Back to our heros: Saturday morning Dr. Fitzpatrick called to say "Get ye to an emergency room and get some blood drawn so we can check your levels". While I could have driven 20 minutes up the road to St. Mary's, I was afraid they would try to kill me again. Besides, the goals was to get my blood count numbers to Georgetown, and I knew St. Mary's would screw it up somehow. So I decided that Robbie and I needed a road trip--we were going to Georgetown. He was great. We drove the two hours to Georgetown, singing songs and making each other laugh. He came into the ER with me and watched with fascination (and endless questions) as they took my vitals. We went back to a observation room in the working area of the ER, where we were visited by an admitting nurse, a fourth year med student, a phlebotomist, the 4th year and the head of ER, another nurse, and finally (and to my delight) Dr. Fitzpatrick herself, who delivered the news that my blood numbers were fine and that I had a chest cold. We were sent home with cautions to monitor and report.

One story--as the second nurse came into the room, Robbie (who knows a cute nurse when he sees one) said, "Hi, my name's Robbie! You had a plesiosaurus behind you!" When she asked "What's a plesiosaurus?", he replied "It's a dinosaur with a long neck and four paddles for legs that lives in the ocean!" She was charmed. I think he could have gotten a phone number. I'll work with him.

Today my temp was fine, and I'm sure it's up around 99.3 right now. I'm taking Robitussin to break up the chest congestion. I'll be going to bed after I post this.

All things considered, a busy two weeks.