I'm supposed to be vacuuming my house right now. But *unfortunately* I flipped the switch gave it one shove and the thing went poof. I'm pretty sure poof is not a good sound. Even more sure because right after the poof, it stopped working. So I'm pretty sure that is a sign that I'm suppose to blog instead.
I had my regular every-three-week-appointment with my oncologist today. They are pretty uneventful. Except for once every 6 (or is it 8? I can't remember) weeks when I have my Cat scan and I get the results. I was pretty level headed this time. I feel GREAT and have no reason to suspect they would have found anything on the scan. I was pretty calm.
Except for the fact that I wasn't! For one, my dad is back in the hospital. He's been in and out for the past few months. He lives alone and I'm worried about him. I have a general angst about Turner, hoping today will be the day he gets over his distaste for the lunch room. Then there's the scan, which is nothing to worry about. Until I was getting my blood drawn. My nurse innocently asked if I was there alone today? Yep. Then it dawned on my, "Maybe she knows something. Maybe I shouldn't be here alone. I wonder if she's worried that I won't be able to drive home after I hear the bad news?" So I sat in the waiting room waiting to be called back, ready to receive the *news.*
They took my blood pressure. It made the machine ding. Apparently, much like poofs, dings are not good. The nurse's eyes bugged out of her head. I guess it was a little high. I explained about how I tend to get a little edgy on scan day. The other nurse told me I wear her out (in a kind/light hearted way?!?) My reply, "Girl... try being me!"
Of course, all was well. Nothing on the scan. In fact my doctor told me, "They must have found you boring. There's not much here." They really have a way with words around there don't they :).
I'll re-check my blood pressure tonight and if it is still high they may need to put me on blood pressure meds. Which is common with the chemo drug I'm still getting. But shoot, I was looking forward to being med free. I just went off my anti-depressant. It's going well. I only wanted to kill my dog several times yesterday. And I'm not sure the anti-depressant would have helped me there. However, it may have helped my breakdown in the bathroom after my Cat scan was over yesterday. I ran into my doctor in the hallway right after my scan. He commented that I looked good for someone who just got out of a scan. I ducked into the ladies room and took a 30 second cry. Mostly along the lines of, "How did I get here? What the heck?" Coo Koo.
So, now if I can just get my vacuum cleaner to work, all will be well. Why is it when you don't want it to, stuff sucks... and when you need it to, it won't?