This morning I woke up to the very annoying sound of my alarm clock (for the record, I have never encountered a pleasant-sounding alarm clock) and I started my daily morning routine:
- Slam the snooze button (many, many, many times)
- Have the following thoughts: “Why am I still so tired?!”, “Did I even sleep?!”, and “Damn it, I can’t move!”
- Accept that I will be tired regardless of sleeping many hours.
- Debate the reasons why I need to get out of bed (i.e., can I miss work today?)
- Start slowly moving every digit, joint and muscle so that I can get out of bed- 30 minutes will go by.
- Say “#&$^@!” as soon as I start to attempt to walk
This morning was a bit different… I felt a bit more on the crappier side than usual. This feeling was a continuance from the day before. Yesterday was the first time in many weeks that I called in sick to work. I could not get out of bed and I felt like pure shit… AND I was coughing. This morning I had to get out of bed because I had an appointment with my wonderful, tough loving rheumatologist, who has become my primary doctor and faithful leader of my team of doctors (hence forward will be known as Dr. Lupus). I knew I could not give up this appointment- even if I felt like caca-on-the-sole-of-a-shoe. I was so short of breath, my chest was tight, achy joints, and had a nice rash going (the solution to all: 2-parts steroids; 1-part vicodin).
Dr. Lupus was not too happy to see me coughing. While examining me, he asked me the most profound question: “Do you feel like you are sick or like a flare?” WHAT?!? MY DOCTOR IS THE RIDDLER! I looked at him and responded with “umm… like I am sick?” A relief came over him: “Good. I would rather you be sick than having a flare.” He is a caring physician. As per usual, The Riddler approaches my case with several possible explanations. Today’s explanation: 1) I may be experiencing some lung toxicity from the methotrexate (… another side effect?!?!?…) or 2) I am sick with some virus- I caught a bug from someone else (agghhh!). He thinks it is most likely option 2 and there is nothing I can do about it. He gave me a soft, caring smile and said: “Expect to experience some crappy days.” Here are the good news that comes out this: a) I won’t get a fever because of the loads of tyelonol/vicodin I take daily and b) I get to skip the methotrexate tonight! HOORAY! I just freed up my weekend of vomiting, nausea and overall feeling of death caused by this lovely form of chemo. Too bad, I am sick with some bug. So pretty much, I will be feeling the therapeutic benefit of the drug without the side effect. THIS WAS NEVER A POSSIBILITY BEFORE! Side note: How about this concept- a drug that can be prescribed where we can just feel the benefits.
After getting poked (twice) by the phlebotomist who was not happy that it was Friday, I was on my way back to my bed. I woke up from the vicodine-haze and immediately thought “someone is to blame for my crappy feelings“- but who? Who was coughing at the office? Did that cute Barista have the sniffles? More importantly, do I need to carry a can of Lysol everywhere?
I can imagine the typical scenario:
The culprit: *Cough* *Cough*
The Diva lifts her head in fear and looks around (imagine the scene from Jurassic Park- where the water in the glass starts to move with every stomp)
The culprit: *Cough* *Cough* *Achoo* *Sniffle*
The Diva finds the source of destruction and slowly takes out the can of Lysol from her over-sized purse. She shakes the can as she slowly approaches the culprit.
Diva: Excuse me.
Culprit: Wow! Let me just say that you are gorgeous. I can tell you are fabulous
Diva: Stand still, you bastard! How dare you cough around me!
Diva sprays the culprit from head to toe. Once the can becomes empty, she turns, drops the can on the floor, and walks away leaving the culprit dead to any germs.