It’s been raining cats and dogs, which is good. We needed it. What a grueling week, trying to iron out everything for the trial in Colorado. I admit, I should’ve taken care of this the week before last, before the doc went on vacation. Unfortunately I felt unwell. I’m better under pressure but it’s been nuts, trying to get medical records on such short notice. A very mean woman at the Oakland KP Cancer Center really got on my last nerve. Fortunately a supervisor (strangely, I think his name was Maximilian Bacon) happened to come up behind her to look for something, heard the interchange and intervened on my behalf. I left, completely dissatisfied, called the actual “medical secretary”, who then asked me to return. After a few minutes, a private door opened, my name was called, and a woman handed me a thick envelope (her name was Cielo, which means “heaven” or sky). Not sure if it was the pressure of the past weeks or the great sadness reawakened by reading early descriptions of my condition – I burst into tears. I became very emotional – from the relief? – and I hugged the woman. We chatted for a moment, she hugged me again, the supervisor came out and saw me in tears…and then I left. The following day she called back to say she’d received my paper file from storage and found a diagram from my original bronchoscopy with handwritten notes by the pulmonologist who performed the procedures. I assured her I wasn’t normally emotional but thanked her profusely for her kindness. Some sort of reward is forthcoming.
Had a ct scan Friday, non-contrast, followed by a terrific Thai lunch. Exhausting week. Tomorrow I have to shop for warm clothes.
Tried to walk today – it was windy & cold. No dice, couldn’t breathe. Time for a bike trainer. I can’t take not exercising. I feel crappy, and mimicking moves from “Dancing with the stars” isn’t really my style. I do a few stretches, but it’s not enough. Maybe I’m just not trying hard enough…
Anyway, I feel a bit disoriented. Poor M, he brought me apples and cheese in bed, made lobster ravioli for dinner. I feel awful, making him do that, but it’s probably good practice for the future. Sad to say.
Two more days to take off. I just need to start some kind of treatment SOON. This waiting is murder.