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2002-10-09
10:43 a.m.
Frustrating dreams aren�t letting up. I spent most of last night thinking I was going to be put in jail for a shooting. My main concern in the dream was interrupting grad school and all the violence in prison. I was so glad to wake up and find that I wasn�t going to be thrown in the clink and that I was just you average twenty-something with cancer and some grad school reading long overdue. Unfortunately I was pulled out of my shitty dream by a real- life crappenstance. The phone call was from B, the secretary at the surgeon�s office. She said she had to reschedule my port removal for next week. I think B is a kind and helpful lady but I kinda wasn�t taking that shit today so I told her that was unacceptable. I have daily radiation appointments, work, school, an HMO and careful monitoring for clottage by the coumadin people and I was god damned ready to get my port out as it has been scheduled for the past month. How can they change this up on patients? Well because it�s not like I can go to the port removal drive-through. I am glad that most people don�t know what a port is. For those who would like a description or a friendly reminder here is mine:
So cute. B and I think of it as an enormous stethoscope stuck in the upper chest. I call it my chemo delivery system. It is supposedly to save your veins from all the IVs and chemo harshness. It�s given me a blood clot and nothing but problems. That�s why I was glad to hear that secretary B was going to see what she could do about squeezing me in tomorrow morning. Being a patient is torture. You are at the mercy of schedulers and insurance companies and your own very dangerous mood swings. I don�t know if I am going to go ahead and get the procedure done tomorrow because I was calm and collected or because I screamed something about how I would tear the fucker out myself. I don�t think I said that out-loud. huh? - 2004-01-15 resolutions - 2004-01-09 video reason - 2003-12-30 sik - 2003-12-06 voiceless - 2003-11-19
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