BAD ATTITUDE DAYS

I woke up the next day very achy and despondent. Why me? Why now? All the gratitude, all the joy, and all the faith that had filled the last two days, seemed completely depleted. They were replaced by questioning, anger, and depression. The wake up call was there. My cousin’s sister-in-law, a nurse from MSKCC called to get some information so she could intervene in arranging a consultation with her favorite GYN ONC surgeon there.

Despite all the help, all the comfort supplied by my family, I felt very isolated, very alone. Like no one could feel how I felt. Like nobody cared. Which, of course wasn’t true. Had dinner in my bedroom with my bros and sister. Said Grace with the kids over the walkie talkies…

The next morning, I couldn’t believe how achy I still felt. Still hurts to cough? This is unbelievable. How much Iron should I be on? How much water? How much Gatorade? What were my electrolytes? Didn’t anybody care???

I called my PCP’s office. Had her order some labs to be drawn before our appointment on Friday. Then I called work to tell them I’d be out for at least another week. My boss, not feeling well himself, and shouldering the burden of my abandoned half of the practice, told me to take a look at my contract “While you are lying there,” to determine how I wanted to handle this disability. I took the liberty of taking his tone and his comments the wrong way and let myself feel hurt and indignant by whatever he was implying. I found out from my office manager later that he has no intention of paying me for any medical leave or disability term, and that I should take all my vacation time now, if I want to get paid. The syrupy sweetness of her voice could not hide the stress and anxiety she was feeling managing my absence.

My husband, meanwhile was working on issues of his own. Saving my life, raising the children, and running out of his blood pressure medicine all finally took their toll during my second Bad Attitude Day. He exploded at the condescending tone of my voice as I dictated which forms needed to go where to get the children enrolled in a private school next year. His BP was 180/110 and his head was about to shatter with ache.

In one fell-swoop, things started to get better. We went out to get his prescription refilled, and he brought me to the lab to have my bloodwork drawn. As the medicine kicked in, he grew calmer. I took his arm in the parking lot at the outpatient lab, my first trip out of the house since the day I bled. This lab, just 100 yards and across the street from my own office, where the bleeding started. I leaned on him as we took those first few steps out of the car. He laughed, and said, “ Look, were practicing being old!”