Take it Slow Saturday

Freckles is on the prowl this morning. He's stalking Barb's every move, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

He gets in his moods like this, where he will actually bite the hand that feeds him.

But Freckles has mellowed, at least slightly, through the years.

Had a good visit with the doctor yesterday, and treatment went, well, fairly smooth.

The nurse was just about to set-up the IV in the back of my left hand. All of a sudden a nurse on the phone shouted, "Hey! Hold it! Don't start yet."

The nurse on the phone trotted off while we waited and conversed with the nurse who was about to start the IV. After a few minutes the nurse said, "I'll see what's going on." She left and in a few minutes more came back.

"We don't have any of your chemo. We forgot to order it," she said. "But we're doing some horse trading to see if we can get some."

Calls were made. Alternative plans were discussed. The nurses found some Torisel at the other cancer center in the county and were sending a driver to pick it up immediately.

They got it. The driver must have scooted down Route 30 pretty fast, and before long the Torisel was dripping into my vein.

We didn't get home until about 5:30 p.m., driving home through Friday night rush hour traffic. It's the worst time to drive. Everyone's worked up from a week of working and fired up for the weekend. Everyone's driving with grit and aggression and little care for their own safety.

It wasn't long after I went through the backdoor that I went up and hit the sheets. The Benadryl really just knocks the wind out of you. And that's on top of the fatigue caused by the chemo, and the fatigue from my lingering head cold, and the fatigue caused by the medicine I take for the head cold.

Bam. Lights out.

I was up by 4 a.m., feeding a hungry Freckles.

He's given up on stalking Barb...for the moment. I've successfully distracted him with his toy mouse, which he is now cuddling with on the floor.