Just Peachy: Part 2

Apparently a vacation four days after chemo is ill advised.  However, it is great way to spend some time at the Kaiser ER in San Diego.  If that place isn’t in the travel guides, it really should be. 

I'm awakened at 6:00 am to the harshest pain I’ve ever experienced in my life the day we’re headed to the beach and a baseball game.  Okay, worst pain ever might be a slight exaggeration but I’ve been with Tiff for the past week so all I know is embellishment – she’s rubbed off on me.  I couldn’t lie down, I couldn’t sit up, I couldn’t do anything.  I was overcome by sharp, driving pains in my abdomen.  I literally cried out every time one shot through my midsection.  It was awful. 

I called my oncologist’s office.  I explained to a nurse what is going on and after finding my oncologist she says,  “You should go to the emergency room.”  I'm astonished.  She retorts, “You sound surprised.”  Uhh, yeah I’m surprised!  I’m on vacation, I don't want to spend any of it in a hospital, and I don’t want to pay for a trip to the ER.  I decide to see if the pain worsens and if it does, go to the ER.  I also call Rene, nurse extraordinaire from my Interventional Radiologist’s office and leave a voicemail.

My pain meds have some adverse side effects so I avoid them.  In my fifth hour of "toughing it out," Tiff and I are bikini-clad and headed to the beach.  I cave and take a pain pill to make it through the rest of our fun-filled day.  We’re mere moments from the beach, sand in sight, and I feel too awful to continue.  Tiff flips a U-turn and we're headed to the ER.  

When in the ER with cancer, you get one of those blue, surgical masks to wear.  So as I sit in the ER, still wearing my swimming suit (plus cute cover-up... I wasn't 95% nude in the waiting room), looking like someone from the SARS epidemic that never happened, Rene calls back.  She informs me these pains are to be expected and I will have them for up to a year.  Ah, yes, sounds great.  So, should we leave?  No, stay and be sure everything is okay.  Alright.  

My name is finally called, I'm taken back into the abyss, blood is drawn, and I'm placed in a bed.  I'm given an IV and some more of my pain medication intravenously.  It makes me feel icky and I don't like it but the pain ebbs.  I receive my 90th CT scan of the past 4 months.  Minutes or hours pass, I'm too drugged to understand time.  Around 8pm I'm of the philosophy I'll stay in this hospital room forever, continue to receive pain meds and live a happy life in the San Diego Kaiser.  The doctor returns to report the pain I’m experiencing is from the tumors emobilizing or breaking down.  The chemo is working.  (The next person who says, "That's great!" is getting punched in the face.  Not really but you get my point.  I'll agree that it is in fact good news, but the pain these dissolving tumors are causing me is otherworldly.)   We are to pick up a prescription for Percocet at the pharmacy before we leave and I'm going to get some intravenous morphine before they discharge me.  I think these are greatest the things I've heard in my life, shake his hand, and smile as he leaves me forever.  I wonder as the nurse enters shortly there after and takes out my IV but about but I just let it happen.  He returns with some paperswork apologizes,  "The doctor ordered some morphine but I didn't see it.  Sorry, I took out your IV too soon."  No morphine for me.  Sad face.  

As Tiff wheels me down the hall towards the pharmacy, I'm feeling terribly ill.  The pain meds are making me nauseas and incredibly dizzy.   When we finally arrive at the car, it's dark outside.  I ask Tiff where the time went.  Upon arriving at the hotel, I notice the Percocet bottle reads:  contains acetaminophen.  I'm not allowed acetaminophen because it metabolizes in the liver and clearly my liver is already in distress.  My trip to the ER yielded these results:  pain meds that made me sicker.... a pain script I can't take.... another bill…. an entire day of my vacation wasted.  Double sad face.   

Lesson learned from my mistakes: don't travel immediately after chemo.  Who knew?  Guess this blonde didn't get the memo.  All was not lost in the end.  We still went to the beach and a Padres game, just 24 hours late.  Then we drove to Vegas to say with our third sister, Jenn.  Day after ER=success! 

Cancer/Chemo, you can't keep this girl down.  So stop trying.   

This post is dedicated to my sister, Tiffany.  Best Sherpa Ever.  Thank you will never be enough for hauling around my luggage, taking care of me, and generally ignoring how crazy I am.  Also, for putting up with cancer-hieghtened OCD for an AMAZING trip.  I love you more than you'll ever know.