Today I am enjoying a post-echocardiogram reward for flashing an MA before 9 am (yes, Gina, I thought of you!) It has been a while since I’ve had any medical shenanigans, so I was overdue for a cheap medical thrill. And what better way to celebrate than with a decaf Americano? Okay, I admit it…I also had a blueberry muffin. But it was totally still breakfast time. Never mind the fact that I had already had breakfast.
The echo was part of a routine set of pre- and post-treatment tests. Since I’ve only got one more chemotherapy to go (hooray!), I’ve started doing the post tests. My pulmonary function looked good (take that, Bleomycin!) and the ultrasound of my port looked good, so I expect nothing but stellar cardiac function. Adriamycin ain’t got nothin’ on me. Okay, the English teacher in me just cringed a little bit. But then the Georgia girl in me said there’s nothing wrong with that there sentence. Never fear, Florida friends. I’m still mostly a Florida girl at heart. But the pasty white parts of me have gone over to the Georgia side of the state line. Anyway…my next test will be another PET scan after my final chemo, which I expect to be clear based on my most recent PET results. (Dangling modifier! Another nerd alert!) I must say, I’m not a fan of the PET. It’s not the scan part, it’s the needle full of radioactive stuff and the cup full of nasty fake Kool-aid stuff. Last time the nurse insisted on doing an IV instead of using my port, and let’s just say that when your veins have turned to crap after nine months of constant poking, things can get ugly pretty quickly. Next time I’m going to see if I can get my port accessed ahead of time by the fabulous Tay at GCS (shout out to my girl!). That would make life much easier.
On a lighter note, I apparently had my hand on my phone for my entire seven-hour post-chemo nap yesterday. Ahhh, there’s nothing so blissful as uninterrupted drug-induced sleep, especially after a week of insomnia. But apparently I sleep-texted and called several people. So I apologize if you got a text full of gibberish or a voice mail of me snoring. When I woke up for my nighttime meds and a pre-bedtime episode of Downton Abbey (the one where William and Daisy got married…sniff, sniff), I had apparently been looking for Afghanistan on Google maps. At least I didn’t make any exhorbitant electricity or credit card payments.
Also, can you guys see the tiny mohawk in the picture above? I’ve still got some male-pattern baldness going on up front, but I’ve got fuzz growing in up top and in the back. I’m trying to train it into a mohawk so I can avoid the awkward growing-back-in phase and go straight to the how-badass-do-I-look phase. It’s funny, in my dreams I still have really long hair, so it’s always a bit of a shock when I wake up and I’m bald. The only really bad part is walking outside and instantly feeling like my scalp is on fire. Sunlight is not my friend these days. Just one of the many fun side effects of all the drugs. And between the constant sweating from the steroids, extra fat, and menopause, it’s too damn hot to wear a hat! That’s a song title from an old musical, Mom…Kiss Me, Kate. Look it up :). By the way, menopause at 33…awesome. Actually, it wouldn’t be too bad if it weren’t for the hot flashes. I’m used to the Crazy, and so is Bobby. I’ve had the Crazy for quite some time. Like my whole life. I think it runs in the family. 😉