Thursday, June 6, 2013

The five (and/or seven) finger countdown

So, I got up bright and early this morning. Didn't eat any breakfast. Brushed my teeth, threw on some clothes, grabbed a bottle of water and high-tailed it across town for my blood work and scan.

I'm pleased to report that the phlebotomist who pulled my name this morning got five vials of blood out of me with just one stick. I sort of love her. I would hire her to be my personal blood sucker and have her follow me from appointment to appointment, she was so good at her job! Seriously. Loved. That. Woman.

Blood work over and done with, I moseyed upstairs to get in line for my PET. ... In retrospect, I should have taken it as a sign when the elevator doors wouldn't stay closed. (They would almost close and then fly back open. And then gradually come back to a close, and then inch apart again. It was pretty funny.)

When I got up to the registration desk to sign in, my girl Stella (yup, I know the staff by name, I go there that often) couldn't find me in the computer.

And then she did find me.

Well, sort of.

She found my canceled appointment.

Adorable.

It seems that my appointment was canceled through a combination of miscommunication and internal errors. I had multiple people give me different stories, but the general gist of it is that the initial scan was ordered as a full body PET. Once the error was discovered, the fully body PET was canceled - but my standard skull-to-thighs scan wasn't scheduled in its place. Add to that the issue that, until 4:00 yesterday afternoon, my insurance hadn't approved the PET, and it was a full-blown comedy of errors. By the time the approval came in and my scheduler realized that she COULD get me in this morning, another scheduler had slid one of their patients into my slot.

My sole consolation is that whoever got my early morning PET scan is another patient who's needing to know if their cancer is still gone, if it's back, if it's better, or if it's worse.

I can't be too upset when I know that my scan went to someone who needed it every bit as much as I need it.

The soonest they could get me in - first thing in the morning, because I am an anxiety-riddled crazy person who does not need to wait longer than she has to, esp when she's fasting - is next Tuesday.

Blech.

I'll go in Tuesday at 7:00 for my PET, and then go back to work for the rest of the day. My follow up with Dr. H will be Friday afternoon.

So much for having a definitive answer tomorrow to the question of whether my pants don't fit due (and due only) to over consumption of Hershey's Kisses. I'll have to wait 'til next week for that intel. ... In the meanwhile, I'll keep watching Numb3rs every night until I fall asleep on the couch.

As my sweet cousin Rachel would say, "Adventures!"

2 comments:

Rachel said...

Mark has decided there's some cosmic law against cancer patients having things go as scheduled... :)

I'm sorry you have to wait (and Mark is especially sorry you have to fast again) to get your test and results. I'm convinced that the reason Mark's pants don't fit is due to too many snacks, so we're hoping yours is too! :)

Sabrina Gardner said...

Oh man, what a pain, especially having to fast for nothing!

And, I've recently discovered something called Bacon Soda. Have you heard of it?