Haha! One would think so! All the stars were aligned. I had arranged the day off. I had someone wathcing Ben. The appointment was made. We just needed to get there! Have you ever tried dragging a 250ish pound man out of bed? Good luck with that. Not only is he tired, he just flat out does NOT want to go. End of story.
In Forrest's defense, he was battling a nightmare headache and was throwing up last night. Why would you want to go do something the next day that will only make you feel worse? So, being the witty person I am, I dragged Forrest from bed. I put him in the shower. (Already 15 minutes late for the appointment at this time.) And, I texted on of his nurses. (Allow me to interject here! How nice is it to have personal numbers for several of his nurses? :)) Anyway, I asked if there was anyway he could get in a little later, as Forrest was being difficult this morning. She got back to me with two options... 12:45 or 1:15. Perfect! I went to tell Forrest the good news, but he said no, he'd go now. He was already up. Ug!
A few texts later, I assured the lovely nurse that we would be on our way asap. Ha! 45 minutes late for the appointment we strolled in... (That sounds nice, right? A casual stroll in the sun! More like hobbling up to the doorway, because Fo's legs and ankles have been hurting so bad...) We register and wait to have blood drawn. We wait. And wait... Finally, Fo says we're leaving in 5 minutes. I sneak off a text to warn the nurses, and just like that, Forrest is called back to have blood drawn.
Yada, yada, yada the next parts are similar to anyone who has been in a doctor's office, right? Doc comes in, chats, does all their doctor things, and goes. This time we were interrupted, though. A nurse popped in to say Fo's blood wasn't clotting in the gold tube. I groan. Same story as the last several minutes. This means they can't get a tumor marker on Fo. She asks about getting a new sample, and I'm all ready to volunteer Forrest over to the nurse. Then she says, but he doesn't have his needle in. What? What do you mean? You draw blood from the port. The needle stays in to deliver the lovely chemo drugs. Why is there no needle? Doc and I look at Forrest and he announces he's not getting treatment today. He feels too crappy. He's puking, tired, sore and his liver is swollen.
Now, I have to say, I'm okay with Fo not getting treatments. I'm not the one getting poison pumped into my body. Who am I to say what he should or shouldn't do? My only frustration is that I found out about it at this moment... He could have told me at any time... When he came back from getting blood drawn ~ with no needle, he could have told me. Or maybe while we were in the little room waiting for doc to show up? Another great option. Ugh. Now I'm just whining.
So, we wait another 2 weeks. We'll go back in and see how Forrest is feeling. We'll decide then if he'll do a treatment that day. Doc actually seems to think it's a good idea, as he has a lot of protein in his urine, and his liver is, in fact, swollen. It's swelling enough that it can be felt about 2-3 inches below his rib cage. Perhaps a little time off will give Forrest's body the opportunity to recover. A girl can hope!
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