Thursday, February 26, 2015

In the wee, small, hours of the morning.

While the whole, wide, world is fast asleep. I lie awake  and think about the chemo, and never, ever think of counting sheep.

(Just cracked myself up with that, btw.)

Here's the haps on the craps:

My ativan was ordered for every 8 hours in error. Oh, no. That's an every 6 hours med. Wanna know how I can tell? I had one at 10 and slept straight to 4:00, at which point, I woke up thinking I needed to pee. (Which, duh, I did. They're pushing fluids through me like crazy banshees.) But before I could even get back to bed, my brain was running in circles. Awesome. So far, I've walked the entire floor twice, trying to wear myself out. (Usually, this would work. Nooooot when I'm all hopped up on anxiety. Oh, no.) Had a total meltdown on my sweet night nurse who thought I was so pleasant when she came on shift last night at 7:00 (duh... I was medicated). She was totally awesome - and even told me stories  to prove that I am not the crazy one. She's got a call in to the doctor to get the order changed, and then we just have to wait on pharmacy. Fingers crossed we've got some early risers out there!

In the meanwhile, I look up and this is what I see:

Other (hilarious) things that the chemo does to me? I've gained three pounds since my pre-bedtime weigh in. How nuts is that?! Three pounds in roughly eight hours. I'm looking at you, Mesna and Ifosfamide!

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