So, lost in the minutia that I didn't mention of Baby's First Chemo, was the Needle-go-'Round when they did my blood draw. I want to stress that I personally didn't take medical trauma from this one, because my phlebotomist was aware that it was my first time, she explained everything, and I am resistant to needle-related trauma in a medical context because of some elements of my personal history (former frequent plasma donor, O+, with trick veins and a variable supply of plasma phlebotomists).

( Yeah, needles. )

"I bet that took about the same amount of time as last time," I said when I came out to Belovedest, and collected an additional compliment on my hat.


After that we went and got some images for Dr. Skelebones. Blood test results started to ping in. We saw Dr. Bitsblobs, who said that yeah, my red blood cell entire situation was going to suck for a while, and iron supplements wouldn't necessarily solve the problem. Since marrow is a fast-dividing place, natch. And wow, I had a lot of hair left despite the visible thinning on top and the new short cut; typically it's "all gone" by this time. I mentioned that the control site is significantly gone. Good to know that the cold cap, despite being expensive, is helping.

We had some time to wait between that appointment and the infusion. I played gems a lot. Belovedest retrieved the three chemo bags. (Bag 1: the cold cap gear. Bag 2: miscellaneous gear. Bag 3: a cold bag with mitts, socks, and specially shaped ice packs to protect my poor peripheral nerves. 3 sets each.)

The blood-smell of one of the pre-medications they gave me was kind of like yuzu-oatmeal-cookie macaron, which was weird. I called it citrus-oatmeal at first, but that wasn't specific enough; I went to orange, but that was wrong too; I finally landed at yuzu, because it was bitter; and then I happen to recall an oatmeal cookie flavored macaron and that was even closer to the starchy component of the smell. My chemo nurse was fascinated.

I think the programming of the cold cap chiller machine was Somewhat Off, because I could swear that they are capable of attending to a 3 hour infusion, and I shouldn't have had to remain in post-infusion mode for another 2 hours. It cut out finally when I ran to the bathroom (again) on account of my bladder has Questions about the total amount of liquid getting into my system over the course of those few hours. But by that time I was on to the final drug of the chemo cocktail, and the hat was still substantially frozen when I took it off.

The neck/chin brace did help with the cold cap strap attempting to throttle me, but I could probably use some clever, 3-d printed part that hooks exactly correctly to further help. It worked for about an hour, and I learned some lessons about the timing. Eventually Belovedest registered the mask strap that goes around the back of my head, so I didn't have to rely on my ears or a special glasses arrangement to wear the mask.

My social worker did stop in to see me in costume. Dulcinea from the Locked Tomb. Pale seafoam green frilly nightgown as a shirt, floofy white skirt made from salvaged panels of curtain lining, exceptionally frivolous hat (made some years back, in my California days), white lace parasol that sometimes opens on its own, oatmeal colored sweater. The tacky novels are on my phone. My phone is on a sticky telescoping grabber-stick that I can easily hold in my ice-mitted hand. The other hand has a pencil-length stylus, and an EazyHold strap (small hole kind, not Universal Cuff big hole kind) to secure it around the other mitt. I'd sworn that I wasn't going to engage with the Seventh House, but after the diagnosis came back I figured oh what the goddamn fuck I might as well be Dulcie. (Short hair, and my hair does curl when it's that short, and all I have to do is encourage it slightly. I could also have long curls but they will attempt to stick together, so I usually kept it braided.) For actual Halloween, I had red lipstick and put some on my face to simulate her blood situation.

Dr. Skelebones came through on her way home, and said that while I could still walk and swim, my days of trollhugging large men are pretty much over. As are my vigorous dancing days.
Balls.
... Ed Balls.

We're home now, I'm tired, I have my meds to deal with the side effects and also the meds to deal with the knock-on side effects caused by the side effects meds, and I will be falling over into bed shortly.

There was a Salad Incident this evening. I have yet to go to the corner drugstore for medical tape, but I probably should do this. Greenware is very dangerous to play around with. I was trying to extract a salad bowl from the cupboard. I grabbed the big blue-and-purple dollar store bowl, but wouldn't you know, it fouled with a coffee cup on the way out. I tried to juggle them both to a safe landing, and was completely taken by surprise when somewhere on the way down, the coffee cup came to no harm but the bowl shattered into quite a few million pieces.

"Oh dear," I said, or words to that effect. hcolleen rushed over to my aid.

It was about at this time that I noticed that there was a nice slice through the top of my right ring finger, at an angle so it was both leaking at a steady rate and also not hurting as much as a cut like that should.

I warned hcolleen that I was going to be pouring alcohol on this (fresh out of hydrogen peroxide), so to please not be alarmed if I screamed. She appreciated the warning. I didn't scream, and patched myself up with adhesive bandages to hand, hoping that I wouldn't need stitches. hcolleen fished the notable pieces out of the sink and into the trash can. Hooray for hcolleen!

In the shower tonight, when the bandages inevitably fell off (I'd hoped to keep them on and swap them out after, for maximum not-disturbing-the-wound) I saw to my surprise that the thing seems to have sealed itself. I see the semicircle of discoloration where the edges of the wound are, but it looks and feels not half as horrible as it was earlier. It's re-bandaged, and isn't doing anything alarming.

My foot, on the other hand, is still not happy. I seem to have picked up another bruise on the bottom of it. Are there routinely rocks that I step on wrong? I don't like limited mobility, especially when I have the energy but it just HURTS to walk on.