Welcome to my Pity Party

Wednesday's doctor's appointment should have been the low point of the day, but I had the bright idea to walk a bit with Miss Molly. It was a pleasant day, and I knew that another heat wave was on the way. On the second block, something horrible stung my hand. Stung the holycrapmotherofgoddess out of my hand. I didn't see it - just a dark flash zooming by - but a searing, excruciating pain was instantaneous and only continued to get worse. I'd gotten stung on my little finger, but it felt like I'd stuck my hand in a buzz saw. I've never imagined pain on this scale from a bug bite! I walked home with my hand up in the air, as if I were waiting to be called upon, and immediately went through my arsenal: ice, baking soda paste, benadryl pill, benadryl gel, hot compresses, calamine lotion. Nothing helped. I finally took some of my Big Guns pain killers, hoping that when I woke from the inevitable 2-hour nap, it would have improved. No such luck.

I managed a couple of errands yesterday morning, but the poison was spreading across my hand and the pain had only abated about 10%. I made it home and repeated the pain pill routine, again without any relief. My pitiful little hand had turned into a fat, angry red blowfish.

Today, I had to go for my monthly Zometa and another CT Scan. I was grateful that Supernurse G had planned my visit carefully so that I would only need one stick: I would get my IV and blood draw at the infusatorium (they always check creatinine before giving Zometa), then off to radiation where the same IV would be used for the contrast stuff, and after the scan, back to the infusatorium for Zometa. Hooray, good plan! Except... it's still my turn. So the scanner wasn't working and I had to drive somewhere else for the scan, and then drive back for the infusion. They wrapped my IV for the trip, unwrapped it, rewrapped it, and re-unwrapped it. It wasn't that bad, and I was grateful that I didn't have to drive further, but it was just One. More. Thing. Oh, and our blistering heat has returned and has anyone, EVER thought of planting trees to provide some shade in parking lots?

The nurses at the infusatorium were all very impressed with my pufferclaw, but didn't agree on what to do. Two felt that I could wait another day before seeking help, and two thought I shouldn't wait. (It does look like cellulitis, and I was hospitalized for that once in high school.) But I think I can tough it out one more day, and if it still looks this bad tomorrow, I'll go to a Doc-in-the-Box and start on an antibiotic.

Any day now, it's going to be someone else's turn for life to suck. And when that happens, look out! Until then, I guess I'm still The One.