I have to say that (what's in the subject line) because only God is certain, only God is stable, only God is unmoving. And I need that right now. I may sound repetitious because I mentioned this in my post below, but it's a mantra I've been chanting quite often this last week. I've been so sick. They said this round of chemo would be "light." HA! What a joke! The "harsh" chemo was the one that was "light." I went home last Thursday, and only now (Monday) do I have even a little bit of energy to write this post.
It got so bad on Saturday, they had me come into the hospital to check my blood. So, instead of my hubby hanging up Christmas lights on the house with the kids, he and I were left sitting in a waiting room for four hours, only to learn later that the nurse went home and forgot about me! After hunting them down, another nurse came (clearly embarrassed), said my blood levels were fine, and I was just short on potassium, so she gave me two horse pills. Needless to say, I was so UPSET on top of feeling miserable! I wanted Saturday to be a nice day for my kids, and this ruined it. But after talking to my mom, she reminded me it's not going to do any good to get upset. So . . . we cancelled some things on Sunday and Karsten (my hubby) hung lights on the house with the kids and decorated the porch, and I'm happy.
As miserable as I feel, I can understand why patients get nasty. I could have gotten nasty on Saturday. I certainly felt like it. But I reigned it all in and slapped a smile on my face, not wanting to be difficult. But I'm still angry. I can understand that nursing is just a job, where you punch in your hours on the time-clock and go home. But when you're a nurse, helping dying, sick people, how can you afford to be careless? How can you forget someone who's suffering? Why can't we take this type of job as seriously as if they were in the army? I mean, think about all the protocol that has to be met before one can move forward to the next "project." Think of how perfectly a bed has to be made, how perfectly the shoes have to be polished, how perfectly pressed the uniform has to be. Boy, if it's not perfect, there's trouble. Why can't a nurse have a check-list that they have to run through to make sure they saw all the patients they were supposed to see before they LEAVE the building? And this was the head nurse, the one in charge, the "big boss" so to speak! Whatever you call them. I'm not familiar with the terminology.
I understand nurses are busy, and probably even short-staffed. Who knows. But if you're going to have this type of a job, please take it seriously. Please don't forget us sick people who would much rather be home (like you) spending quality time with their family.
One nurse came in to my room the other day last week (these are all young girls, early to late twenties): she had been wondering when she was gonna get her lunch break. It was going on 2 pm. Well, I don't blame her! By the time she did take her lunch, she pranced into my room later, saying, "I can't believe my life." Apparently, she had to cut into her lunch break to help a patient who was having an emergency. I asked her, "Oh, is he all right?" She stopped and hesitated, then proceeded to tell me that the patient was doing a little better now. sigh
Hmm, missing lunch over feeling like you just might literally DIE, which is worse? Forgive the sarcasm. I hold nothing against this sweet nurse. She was wonderful. I just feel like something is "wrong" or "off" about all this. Please don't misunderstand. I know I'm at the best hospital there is for treating this type of cancer. I'm just sad that we can't do a better job at these things.
Anyway, I hope to post something more pleasant in the upcoming days. All I know is right now, I can't seem to get on top of this latest chemo trip. My sis keeps telling me about Medicinal Marjowana (see, I don't even know how to spell the word. This is so NOT ME). I used to roll my eyes. But now I'm wondering if it might be worth looking in to. All I can wonder is how long I'm going to have to feel so miserable.
I know, I know. One day at a time. One day at a time.
It gives me hope to talk to other cancer survivors who are living normal lives. Makes me believe my life will one day be normal.