Maybe a Better Tomorrow

So here's the short of it,
Not such a good day after all.


And here's the long

Well, yesterday, I was just sure that I was experiencing all the signs of a better day coming. Boy, was I wrong! From about 6 this morning until nearly 11, I was either in the bathroom, the bed, or taking medicine. The bug man was coming today, and I wanted to be out of bed and dressed when he got here so I got a shower and started to get dressed - then that nausea that's been "just at the edge of my consciousness" hit me hard. I had tried to drink a strawberry glucerna (a diabetic instant breakfast option) and got down about 1/2 before I got in the shower. Well, it didn't stay down long at all.

The rest of the afternoon I was dressed but on the sofa in the den - really near the back bathroom. I took nausea medicine and sucked on ice. At one point I thought I'd drink some propel, but that was not a good idea.

Alan took me to my Herceptin treatment this afternoon and Mom met us there. My wonderful oncology nurse said "next time that happens, just call us and come in early, we'll get you taken care of". She gave me some nausea medicine through my port - they call it "pushing" - when they inject through the port instead of dripping. By the time I was finished with the drip, I was feeling well enough to eat a couple of saltines.

This evening I felt well enough to have a boiled egg, and I'm optimistic that tomorrow will be better. My blood counts are way down again, so I have to be really careful about exposing myself to any possible bad stuff. I'm also scheduled to go back to work on Monday. I'll have to figure that one out on Monday morning when I see how I feel and where I might be able to work in an isolated place.

My Mom and Dad's great little companion, Mollie Blue, died this morning. She could no longer walk and was not eating. Her congestive heart failure had filled most of her lungs. Mom went to the vet's office where Mollie spent the night, and held her while she was euthanized. She brought her home and buried her in a grave that Patrick, my nephew, had made ready. I know this was such a difficult decision for Mom, but I think she was very clear headed about how impossible it would be to care for Mollie, while spending the time she needs to take care of Dad's needs. I am quite sad about it as well. Sometimes it seems as if the whole landscape of my life is changing like a time lapse video.