Oh well now, this is getting silly. My phone rang a little after 5:00pm and I recognized the number from the Cancer Center. Like a good cancer patient, I ignored it, assuming it was the office confirming my appointment for tomorrow. When it rang again after only a few minutes, I knew I should probably see what was up. Sure enough, it was my oncologist. He was calling to let me know that he had reviewed my echocardiogram and it indicated that I have a blood clot in my heart.
I’m going to pause for a second and let that sink in. I have a freaking blood clot. In my heart. I’m sorry, what the heck is going on now?
This discovery requires pretty immediate attention and fortunately I only live five minutes from the hospital. My oncologist and his nurse were waiting for me after hours (how awesome is that, by the way?) to make sure I understood what was going on (I don’t really) and to walk me through the shots I now have to administer to myself.
Again, I need to pause. I have to do what now? Give myself two shots a day. Does it hurt? Oh yeah. Definitely. How long will I need to do this? For three months.
Are you kidding me?
At this point I feel like a Girl Scout with a full sash of side effect badges. From head to toe, inside and out, I am full on cancer queen. Despite dropping chemo like a bad habit three weeks ago, the goods keep coming my way. It’s like a bad breakup and I want to change my number and relocate because boy, I am so over you.
So now I am learning to work up the nerve to poke myself. I am starting to cut down on the amount of time I spend counting to three, sighing, then counting again, and I’m getting faster at jabbing myself on the first go. Like all things cancer, it gets a little easier after the initial shock wears off a bit. With all the practice I’m getting, I expect to be an expert poker in about a week.
Of course, Tom was sweet enough to offer to do my injections for me. However, for the sake of my marriage I think it is best if I am the one responsible for jabbing myself on a daily basis. It just seems like a good move to keep other people out of the misery that is Lovenox, which I am affectionately renaming Lovenot.
So on we go with the full circus act that is cancer. At some point I know I will look back on this and shake my head and smile. Today, I just look at my husband, raise my eyebrows and say, “Sure, why not.” We’ll get through this like everything else. One day at a time, two shots a day.
Give ‘Em Hell.