Not today Isis!!
Right before all this mess started, our company, Texas Teachers, sent a text blast to all our potential teachers we had in our data base urging them to get ready to teach, that schools needed them now. We got the most random reply from someone in Texas -"Not today ISIS!!"
It cracked me up on both levels - either the guy was serious or he wasn't. Either way, for a few weeks any time Lee asked if I wanted to do something, I replied, Not today ISIS.
So getting attached to the fucker and all the drugs for Chemo #3 even though I am remission reminds me of that phrase. We can't let cancer get started again so as they turn on the annoying pumps and harsh drugs, I say - "Not today Cancer".
So what's it like coming to the hospital Dave? Is it a model of efficiency that adheres to the tenets of getting lots of great nutrition, exercise and sleep. No - not at all.
We got orders to the hospital at 4:00 and run down to try and get a room. We are told there will be some discharges (we hope just patients) later that afternoon and they take my cell number. We go out to eat and come back at 6:00 and are told the room is being cleaned. At 8:00 I get my room! Yay.
Then the arduous check-in process that I have to complete every time. 50 questions to make sure I am not dying, don't have skin problems, poop, what meds I am taking, do I need a priest, am I suicidal etc. Then they bring a second nurse to do an awkward skin check to make sure I don't have any sores that could become massive bed sores. Then the first of one million vital checks - blood pressure, temp, pulse and oxygen.
Then pre-meds before the meds before the chemo. The chemo takes 3 hours to make so we will get the Rituxan at 11:30 PM. At 11:00 I get another set of meds, vitals and wait the 30 minutes for the Rituxan. 11:30 Rituxan! Yay -
But there is always something - this time my resting pulse is too low - WTF - how did that happen. Am I in the zen of remission now. If you go below 60 they have to slow the Rituxan and I keep hitting 58 - so when they come in I push my feet together to get the pulse up a little so we can move on to the main course of chemo.
With Rituxan they have to check vitals every 15 minutes for the first hour and every 30 minutes for the rest of the 3-4 hour bag of goodies. So this goes on from 11:30 to 3:30 when the bag is finally done. Then they come in to hook up the next set of bags which gets done by 5:00. Then a set of vitals. These bags are the 24 hour set and this is the first of 4 to complete. So if all goes well - we are out by Saturday.
Now usually the blood ghouls come at 4-5:00 to get a sample and they haven't been here yet. I assume they are waiting outside the door for me to hit REM before pouncing and I was correct. I hit sleep hard and by 5:30 I am out - and the light comes on for blood draw.
Shift change at 7:00 so my oncoming nurse comes in and says hi and my night nurse says goodbye. So that's the level of sleep I get on first night. Will need a nap today.
But who cares after the great news we had all I can think about is NOT TODAY CANCER!!
It cracked me up on both levels - either the guy was serious or he wasn't. Either way, for a few weeks any time Lee asked if I wanted to do something, I replied, Not today ISIS.
So getting attached to the fucker and all the drugs for Chemo #3 even though I am remission reminds me of that phrase. We can't let cancer get started again so as they turn on the annoying pumps and harsh drugs, I say - "Not today Cancer".
So what's it like coming to the hospital Dave? Is it a model of efficiency that adheres to the tenets of getting lots of great nutrition, exercise and sleep. No - not at all.
We got orders to the hospital at 4:00 and run down to try and get a room. We are told there will be some discharges (we hope just patients) later that afternoon and they take my cell number. We go out to eat and come back at 6:00 and are told the room is being cleaned. At 8:00 I get my room! Yay.
Then the arduous check-in process that I have to complete every time. 50 questions to make sure I am not dying, don't have skin problems, poop, what meds I am taking, do I need a priest, am I suicidal etc. Then they bring a second nurse to do an awkward skin check to make sure I don't have any sores that could become massive bed sores. Then the first of one million vital checks - blood pressure, temp, pulse and oxygen.
Then pre-meds before the meds before the chemo. The chemo takes 3 hours to make so we will get the Rituxan at 11:30 PM. At 11:00 I get another set of meds, vitals and wait the 30 minutes for the Rituxan. 11:30 Rituxan! Yay -
But there is always something - this time my resting pulse is too low - WTF - how did that happen. Am I in the zen of remission now. If you go below 60 they have to slow the Rituxan and I keep hitting 58 - so when they come in I push my feet together to get the pulse up a little so we can move on to the main course of chemo.
With Rituxan they have to check vitals every 15 minutes for the first hour and every 30 minutes for the rest of the 3-4 hour bag of goodies. So this goes on from 11:30 to 3:30 when the bag is finally done. Then they come in to hook up the next set of bags which gets done by 5:00. Then a set of vitals. These bags are the 24 hour set and this is the first of 4 to complete. So if all goes well - we are out by Saturday.
Now usually the blood ghouls come at 4-5:00 to get a sample and they haven't been here yet. I assume they are waiting outside the door for me to hit REM before pouncing and I was correct. I hit sleep hard and by 5:30 I am out - and the light comes on for blood draw.
Shift change at 7:00 so my oncoming nurse comes in and says hi and my night nurse says goodbye. So that's the level of sleep I get on first night. Will need a nap today.
But who cares after the great news we had all I can think about is NOT TODAY CANCER!!
Once you are finished kicking Cancer's Ass, you need to find something else to Blog about. You are a very entertaining writer even in times of distress. I love your attitude - Not Today Cancer! Love you Dave!
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