Sunday, April 24, 2016

Grantley has applesauce on her head like some sort of crazy dog mousse gone wrong. It dripped coming out of the fridge because I had it turned upside down and I mention that because I just wanted to type the words: Grantley has applesauce on her head. 


Okay. We're there in Burr Ridge after having had all my vitals taken by John and in comes the doctor. She looks like she's maybe 23. If I said we were there for three hours, that might give you an idea of how thorough this was. I'm going to have to say, for me? Well, I tried to capture my facial expression(Do you know two of my work places have colored pencils readily available?) and I kinda sorta settled on this:

This is me-drowning in words. 

There was a very thorough physical exam behind a curtain so P-who has just about seen everything known to Ann-couldn't see. It kinda felt like how you'd greet an exuberant dog-like how she was checking out all my nodes-don't cha know-but it wasn't naked or robed or disrobed or whatever. 

That finished and it was time for the incredibly complicated talking part and I cannot tell you exactly when she lost me-there was something about possible genetic mutation and there was something bone marrow possibility and there was something autoimmune disorder possibility and my face looked like this:

And an American flag appeared over my right shoulder and a bad yellow tie-it was the craziest thing. 

I hope I am not imagining this, but I think, at one point I said to her: Is this fatal? And I also think her response was: no and maybe that's when I stopped listening and thought, okay then, get ON with it already, right? I got things to do. 

But my head just couldn't take any more words in. So, when they brought in this convienent, take-home, massively art-directed, big money, stupidly named, cardboard box, I knew there was trouble. Well, I actually sensed trouble when I even had to make this appointment but not this flavor of trouble. 

Wait wait. I can do better. 


Injections, at home, twice a day. Yipes. And of course, I'm like, uhhh I'm not doing that. Philip's doing it. And he thought it'd be the sort of a thing where you sorta just punch this tube thing into the skin like one of those epi pens? But nope, needles. Another young woman came in to sort of instruct us-like what angle to go in with and the schedule and stuff and eventually they released us back into the universe. Tanks be to jezuz(here I'm using my Irish accent acquired in my divorce settlement, you're welcome). 

There had been phone calls with my pharmacy and the insurance company and when we got to the Jewel to fetch the actual needles they told us that a months worth of this stuff is $3000 and that the insurance company wants you off of it pronto so they'll just release 7 days of it at a time for 15 bucks. 

Well, we started it, on the couch. The first one hurt more than the second one but by then we'd moved to a chair. Kind of a better angle maybe. Every 12 hours, in the belly. Not the same spot. Duh. 

Last night, Grantley got kind of interested and just when Philip had the needle in but not pushed the medicine through, she walked up to me and licked my leg. Twice. 

I laughed.

And then I got a stern talking to from Doctor O'Connor about the possibility of the needle breaking off and me ending up in the emergency room but I still think it was Really Funny. 
That same day, Friday was a flurry of hospital phone calls. Hernia doc backing out of combining hernia repair with thyroid removal.(Not good in my opinion but I'm not the doctor.) Trying to make an appointment to see a RheumatologistI(what?!?)when the next available is sometime in July. How was the Lovenox going? Oh by the way/we need to do more blood tests/what time can you get here? They close early. 

I tay you what(Chicago accent indicated here)if this had been 11 months ago? I would have dropped everything and run like the wind over to the hospital but this time? I decided I'd go, but first I'd finish my salad. That's what's different now. 

Now, on top of the nine vials Thursday, here are six more. The two with the purple tops? They told me that test costs $1456.00 so they'd have to call the insurance company for approval and if they didn't get it within 72 hours? Do-over. 

I also asked if I could take a photo because I'm braver and bolder and she was cool with it. 

Coming up this week: a whole lotta appointments which is why I must leave you now and get outside and play. Right after I try and clean off Grantleys head. 


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