The reality check is that the specialist knew and warned me. What was it that she said?
"I'm going to prescribe this to you, but you will have to remain at home, safe from everything that can compromise your immune system."
This is not something that I wanted to hear, but the pain was severe enough that I smiled politely with an "Okay, doctor. Whatever you say."
"Take as directed and call me in the morning." Actually she said call me "next week."
So, like a good girl which I was trying to be with Christmas right around the corner (I can always use a few extra points in the homestretch,) I did as instructed and called her the following week. I don't get to talk to her, instead I talk with the assistant. The conversation is a rerun of the conversation with the specialist until…
"I'm very impressed with your commitment," he said.
"Why?" I asked innocently.
He gives me the spiel that I must have tuned out the first time around. "…And that means you will not only have to forego any holiday shopping, but pretty much the whole holiday."
My brain stutters…I can hear the DJ drag the needle across the phonograph record…okay, no big Thanksgiving dinner with family and friends.
"For how long?" I feel my whole body shaking with dread. I really don't want to hear an answer to my question.
"At least until the procedures are completed…Your last appointment is mid January, right?"
I pull my chair closer to the couch. I need to lay down. In all honesty I had planned to cancel the January appointments due to a shortage of funds.
"Uhh…" I'm laying down now. My jaw is almost to the floor. I slap it back where it belongs. "My family isn't going to like this."
"Just remember," his soothing tone did nothing to put me at ease. "Next year you will feel all the better. Your family will thank you for taking care of this now."
Yeah, well he doesn't have my family to explain this to. This will mean a rather lean Christmas with Dad (my hubby) doing the shopping. He isn't a good shopper and I know there will be more than one gift card under the tree. Oh yeah, what tree? I won't be able to go with the family to cut a tree and my hubby, the wonderfully considerate man that he is, won't go without me.
…to be continued…when the vision clears…
6 comments:
oh no! I'm sorry. That was not fun news to hear. But you know what? In the long run, your family will appreciate that you are taking care of yourself, so that you can have magnificent celebrations down the road. My mom is experiencing similar medical stuff...she wanted to cancel Christmas entirely, but we will put up her tree this weekend and bring Christmas cheer to her.Hugs!
You can make it. In the long run it will be worth it. I was virtually bed-ridden for my last pregnancy, and that young woman is a real light in my life. I had a baby as a goal to do what I needed to do, which was nothing much. You also have a child to think of. A child of God. YOU.
Kari,
If I had the space and the functioning immune system, I would beg you to do the same at our place!
Donna,
You are a jewel! I don't have a baby on the way, not even a grandbaby but I am resorting to sharing this with what I hope is a bit of tongue-in-cheek.
What a challenge! Because it is different this will be a Christmas to remember. Praying for you that the treatments work as they should.
Thank you Nicole! I'll take all the prayers that may come my way or in my behalf.
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