You know when MJE said that after a few days with Albatross that I’d be looking forward to my chemo with a song in my heart. Well little did I know that it’d be a bit more Stravinsky’s “Rite Of Spring” than Sondheim’s “Bring in the Clowns.” Man oh man. The “infusion” (“lemonade with lavender anyone?”) was not too bad, it was the Neulasta shot to boost white blood cells the next day that through me for a loop. I went from up and at em, walking Bellarina in the am to dialing 911 to the CDC informing them that Ebola was back and to come medevac me out STAT.
Now MJE is made of pretty stern stuff, mainly rebar and rip rap, but even I was not prepared for this nasty piece of work. Poor sweet OB&C kept coming in and asking if there was anything he could do, rubbing his 3 day beard against my cheek. Why yes there is, love of my life, “SHUT UP AND GET OUT.” Yet despite what seemed a pretty clear directive, he felt compelled to sit beside me and brief me in excruciating detail not once but four times on every step of the recipe for baby back ribs that he was cooking up. Back off Bobby Flay. Way off.
But I seem to be past the worst of it, learning to juggle meds just below the overdose thresh hold and sleeping like a drooler in an assisted living facility.
Should be right as acid rain by tomorrow.