My horrendous cough prompted a convo tonight that reminded me of something my employer sent out a while ago regarding company wide precautions against H1N1. And, in turn, I remembered the response a very talented co-worker wrote (for our little team's enjoyment). I thought I'd share.
Excerpt from the actual memo:
Best thing ever:Employees /contractors who become ill with flu like symptoms while at work must remain in their cube and contact their manager/sponsor and the Site Epidemic Disease Coordinator. Ill employees will be provided with a mask and taken to a designated area away from others until arrangements can be made to transport the employee home or to the doctor or to the hospital if symptoms are severe. If an employee becomes severely ill and in need emergency care, site emergency reporting procedures must be followed.
…should you become ill at work (from possibly opening an infected Outlook attachment), dial our special “Cooties Hotline” and stay where you are! For the love of GOD…stay put people, don’t mingle!!!
A specially equipped Government Biological-Hazard-Death-Squad will parachute in from above your cubicle and forcibly restrain you. They will remove your personal belongings, valuables, sentimental heirlooms, anything that proved you existed and even the clothes off your back and burn them with a flamethrower right in front of you. They will then hurl your naked and confused body into one of their specially constructed Haz-Mat Ziploc People Baggies, making sure it is well sealed (yellow and blue make green :) ) before dragging you through the office to be shamed and ridiculed by your condescending coworkers.
Remember, your eradication is for the betterment of the office community. Feel free to visit our website where you can get all the cheerful details and don’t forget to click the online coupon for a free tall artichoke soy latte from Starbucks!
Thanks and don’t get sick.
That's what I sound like.
I keep thinking I must be getting better by now. And then I have a coughing fit so powerful that I'm left shaking in bed or weak in the knees. I probably should have gone to the doctor sooner, but I really thought it was just a recurrence of what I had over Thanksgiving. Now I'm googling symptoms and wondering if I have TB or adult pertussis.
Kidding, but I definitely have something. Last night was the worst. I'd fall asleep and then wake up feeling like I couldn't breathe for an instant, but of course it was just a super cough rearing its ugly head. This went on for hours. When I finally woke up this morning I was exhausted, and opted to stay awake.
Maybe I'll hit up the local chain clinic. My own doc is all the way in Austin and I just don't feel like going that far out again today. Ugh.
She's ba-aaaaack.
Lilu that is...
The Humane Society called and said she wasn't doing well. Sad meowing all the time. Bolting every time they tried to clean her cage. Sleeping in and essentially not leaving her litter box. (Ewwww.) And she hadn't pooped since I dropped her off. (Well, wouldn't that make you grumpy?) They would have hoped to start to socialize her a bit with other kitties soon, but she was just too weirded out. So I collected her yesterday.
For the most part she's back to normal. A bit of hissing when one of the others accidentally cornered her once near the litter boxes, and a LOT of meowing last night, but she seems to have settled back in nicely.
I rubbed her down with bath wipes yesterday, but I'd like to give her a real bath today (sleeping in her litterbox at the Humane Society = groooosssss!) We'll see if I'm up to it though. I've been working from home all week with a cold and cough. Would it be wrong of me to put her in the shower and hose her down from above? The shampoo process would present a challenge though....
I kid.
Please cross your fingers that some folks will start appearing who want these guys. I HAVE to adopt them out. I don't know what I'm going to do otherwise. I'm going to start a round of contacting every rescue org I can think of to try to get them placed one at a time. I just need seven organizations or people willing to take one animal...
So I got the scan results as promised. As of 17 November 2009, the tumor in my neck was exactly the same size and no other lymph nodes showed any signs of invasion. There are some micronodules in my lungs, but a real experienced retired cancer nurse told me that, in 90% of cases, the second round of radioactive iodine does those in. Here's hoping!
My boss agreed to let me borrow the work laptop to telecommute on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I am really hoping that this will help my body rest a bit so that the nasty effects of the hormone treatment will be less of an issue. I'm really glad that this overdose of hormones has kept the cancer from metastasizing because being forced into hyperthyroidism has been absolute shit.
A busy Thanksgiving week of work led straight into yet another, and a good thing too.
Now in the wee hours of Saturday morning with just the hum of my little space heater for distraction, I've really only one thought in my head.
Lilu is gone.
I owner surrendered her to the Austin Humane Society on Thursday. She had to go alone. Leopold, who was supposed to go with her, was diagnosed with a heart murmur on Wednesday and so he was removed from the 'adoptable' category.
I've tried very hard not to think about this since yesterday. I have to be careful. I don't want to get stuck here. But I do rather keep remembering how she looked in her little cage...curled up in the bed I took for her. She looked right out through the bars and across the room at me. I wonder how she's doing tonight. I wonder how warm they keep that little room for the new surrenders.
See? I'll make myself sick with that line of thinking.
They say that cats don't remember their owners the way dogs do. That they don't remember much of anything because of how small their brains are...part of me hopes so. I don't want her to remember what I've done. I want her slate to be wiped clean so that she's can be her chirpy sweet self and attract some new person or family to take her home. I don't want her to be distrustful of the next hands who go to pet her.
Perhaps it's silly of me to anthropomorphize her that way. She was just so very sweet. I called her Piglet for the way she squeaked as a kitten. She was quite possibly my favorite. She and Leo certainly were a tie.
I was rereading the craigslist ad I posted for her and stopped at the line that said she'd curl up for a nap with you. When I used to lie down on the living room sofa she would quietly pad over and look up at me. I'd pull the little throw onto the cushion which was her cue to jump up. Then she'd let me adjust her in my arms and hold her while I slept. I loved how she'd purr.
I hope someone finds her to be just the perfect cat for them. I hope they love her at least as much as I did. And that they never let her go.
As for Leo, it's a waiting game for him. The vet thinks his murmur is pretty bad, just based off the sound of his non-heartbeat and the rigidity in his chest. He seemed mostly normal to me and not much changed from the day he walked into my old office out of the rain. That quite possibly means he's had the murmur the whole time and it's just been steadily worsening. An xray and ultrasound would tell us how bad things are, but treating him wouldn't be any different--it would just let me know a ballpark timeframe of when to look to euthanize him. The vet said it will be much better for us to determine that time than to let him die of massive heart failure. Actually, what he said was, 'There's nothing wrong with saying he's had a really good life with you, and letting him go peacefully to heaven...instead of the experience of drowning because his chest has filled with fluid.'
I'd say it's been a tough week for pets in my household.
The 3 remaining cats, Leo included, are all snoozing in their beds tonight. They cried and acted very strangely last night, but by today only Leo seemed out of sorts still. They must know--or they did know--that one of their number is gone. The dogs for the most part are unchanged. It's cold now, so I run the heater in the garage to keep the air above 60. Cold still, I know, but warmer than it would be otherwise. One of the girls--the oldest, Juney--is spending more time inside. I thought this was directly related to the cold, but after the Leo discovery I wonder if she's not manifesting some hidden illness. There's no way to really know.
I'll leave the finances out of this picture. It's enough to say they're dismal. Even as I think about Christmas presents I wish I could buy and trips I wish I could take, I need to remember that want and need are two different things. I wanted to be able to keep Lilu, but I needed to let her go. Of all the animals, she has the best shot at being adopted. I had to give her that chance.
(I didn't mean for this post to be such a downer. I guess I just really needed to vent. My apologies to all who made it through to the end, and thank you.)
My nuclear doctor called me back today to say that I could not see the surgeon before 5 Jan 2010. Actually, what she said was that the delay was perfectly normal for a surgery after meeting with him in late November. I explained that I did not meet with him in late November. She was surprised, she did not realise that the 5 January mtg was not my surgery but, in fact, the appointment to set the date. There is obviously some great communication going on between the members of my cancer team. This lack of organisation is beginning to worry me and make me lose faith in their competence. I demanded that I receive the results from my scan performed in mid-November. She said that she'd send them right to me, but insisted that I need not be worried about the delay.
If this metastasizes between now and then, they'll wish they'd been more careful. Because I will sue them, the secretary and the hospital to within an inch of their miserable little lives. Doctors like this should not be allowed to practice. They are a menace to every patient, not just to me.
I had to wait until 30 November to hear from my endocrinologist that my thyroglobulin antibody count (taken 15 October) had fallen from 69 (July) to 25 (October). Great news, right? I am happy because it should mean that my thyroid cancer is being contained. Why did I have to wait for good news that would have helped me stay positive about beating my cancer? What about all the sharp pains in my breasts and arm pits that none of my doctors want to hear about? Why do I have to fight tooth and nail to have results from my scan that would SHOW ME whether this has metastasized into my breasts, bones or lungs? I am obviously not a priority for this group of doctors. And I am afraid that none of their patients are important to them. It's a wonder anyone in France ever survives cancer.
So here's the recap:
No meeting with surgeon until 5 January 2009. Should be getting results of scan from hospital soon, which I will be forced to interpret myself because I cannot get in to see a doctor at the hospital. I still say thank goodness for national health because, if I were in America, I would be bankrupt and probably dead by now. With a pre-existing cancer, I would not have been eligible for insurance in the first place. That said, I pay out the ass in taxes for national health. As a cancer-afflicted tax payer, I deserve better. Every tax payer in France deserves better medical treatment than what is currently 'available'.
All the trappings of home and hearth, food and family, played out as they should. Verra happy sigh. I love when tradition doesn't disappoint.
I've also spent a wonderful week waking up snuggled in ____'s arms--from where I am writing you now--and starting each morning in awe at how easy and sweet my days are with him.
We've had our first holiday together. My family seems to be easing into the idea of 'us' nicely. I think they can see what I see. That he is a good man with a good heart and a gift for laughter among so many other things. That he listens to me, and thinks highly of me--being proud of, rather than threatened by, the things I do well.
Still the honeymoon you may say, and perhaps it is chronologically speaking, but goodness! Hospital stays, plane flights with wheelchair in tow, cross-country drives, whole weeks spent with my family, all the while working together from our 'office' in the dining room, buys us quite a bit more time. A lifetime it seems.
Hope your holiday was a good one, voxy world.
Now onto 30 days of singing along to Christmas songs! "It's the most wonderful time of the year!"
Sad news.
We had to give Perla back to the adoption people because she was literally tearing herself apart when we weren't with her. She manifested almost every sign of canine stress imaginable all the time except when sleeping. When she saw the foster home lady, she ran to the lady's car and didn't look back. At least, she'll be happier and safer there. We tried our best to let her know that she was safe and loved with us, but it didn't work.
We've decided that the next dog will be a Corgi puppy. Not sure when. I know and love the breed and their temperament suits ours perfectly. Besides that, I no longer trust rescue groups in France. After having been warned about them, I gave one the benefit of the doubt. They said that they had a feeling that it wouldn't work out after allowing us to adopt her! What a horrible thing to put a dog through! They have no business running a dog adoption association.
My next news is not so much sad as enraging. My surgeon had a death in his family so we received a last minute call to cancel my meeting with him tomorrow. Ok. I am sorry for his loss, etc. The secretary then forced us to take a date in January 2010 and said that my cancer wasn't serious. Isn't all cancer a little serious? I do plan to call back and ask if there is no way to be seen earlier and to ask for my results. I do have the right to see my results at least and talk them over with one of my doctors. Don't I? Just another example of my fuckwit cancer team. I understand that this is a hard time for the surgeon, but his staff need to get training on their people skills. There is no psychological help in France for people who have cancer from what I can tell. I have asked about it at the hospital -- nothing! So not only do they deprive you of the psychological help you need, but they also belittle your cancer and send the message that they don't care if they cure you or not. Every chemo session my father had, he had to fill out a questionnaire about how he was feeling emotionally as well as physically. Questions included, 'How often do you contemplate suicide?' It was all taken very seriously. Not in France, though. You're just another burden on the national health so they string you along. I almost have the feeling that they want it to metastasize further or are hoping that I'll off myself so that they make a dent in their case load. There are other surgeons who could see me at the hospital to at least give me my results. That would be the professional thing to do. But when one is in this situation and one has the sense that none of the doctors care about one's case? Guess what that does for a cancer patient's morale, fucktards? One day, you will also have cancer. I guarantee it with the poor management of nuclear waste in France. Then you'll get to feel this pain and this fear and this rage. I'll probably be dead so I won't even get the chance to gloat.
lest my report of today's tears implies otherwise, i feel the need to remind the world that i am, in fact, very joyful and in love with my life. not that there aren't blue moments here and there, but mine are small tribulations compared with those of so many others and i really, truly am thankful for what is still a considerably bougie existence.
there's a freeze predicted for tonight, the first of the season, but the day will warm up considerably even with the breeze that's expected to blow. i've a lot of work ahead of me in the next several hours. time to tidy up the house and finish a few odd jobs, time to make room, make room! in this house for the love and laughter that arrives tomorrow night. it seems he's bringing the cold with him, a taste of my home away from home, and i can't wait to snuggle down into sleep next to him, buried under warm blankets and against his side.
in a few more days we'll be off on that long west texas drive. i hope we can leave early enough to do the whole drive in daylight and still take in the long and dusty, but still very beautiful desert landscape that will stretch out for hours and hours. wish we had time to side trip to marfa, big bend, etc. but alas that will have to wait for another holiday. if this roadtrip is anything like others this time of year, it will be cold, clear, and blustery the whole way. and my little car will feel every gust and bump in the road.
but we'll be together! huzzah! (i'm positively wriggling my toes with excitement.)
and so it is that i'm looking forward to the next week and a half as if it's christmas day that's coming and not thanksgiving. sigh. a whole ten days...
can you imagine what the approach of an actual christmas day will be like when we can spend it together...?
pardon the reuse of this picture, but i expect i shall look something like this...
only taller.
leo supposedly has as an upper respiratory infection--i've always thought it was allergies--and they won't take him till he's been treated. i didn't want to leave lilu without leo; i felt they'd acclimate better if their first days there, and by themselves, were together. staff agreed. so i brought them both back home and picked up meds from the vet for my sick boy. as if playing up the part, he's been sneeze hacking more tonight.
i cried a lot today. i feel pretty lame. doesn't mean i won't cry again when i take them back the week after thanksgiving. i'm hoping, though, that i'll be better prepared by then and will be able to find more peace with the decision.
