A little for you, a little for me...

November 25

"So a funny thing happened today....." 

Ever notice how when people say that, it doesnt necessarily mean that the "thing" that happened was actually funny?  Well imagine me saying that, but adding "at the chemo clinic" to the end of that sentence....I bet you're thinking, there is no possible way this story is actually funny....but just wait...

Evie and I were at the hospital, just like any typical Friday.  It was a "long" day, and by 10:30am Evelyn had been accessed, and hooked up to her IV, and we were placed in our room for the duration.  Now it was time to wait for her chemo to actually arrive.  Sometimes this takes an hour, sometimes 2 or 3.  It's actually a little frustrating at the discrepencies week to week, but when it's totally out of your control.....you just get comfy, bring more snacks, more toys, more books. 

Evelyn is much more active now....in fact she is more active with each passing week, be it at the hospital or at home.  This is a good thing of course, except it means that I have to chase after her with her IV pole close behind so that it doesnt pull too tightly, otherwise her needle could pull out.  This has happened before, and if can be quite serious, especially if it happens during the chemo infusion.  It stresses me out to be honest, so much so I've often found myself trying to figure out a better way to get this done.  At the same time, I'm sure it is hilarious to watch.  This woman running around a small hospital room, or worse the hallyway, after a toddler who's new trick is not only walking, but "unn" - arms waving hysterically in the air, an stricking resemblance to ET the extraterrestrial.  

So there we are, taking a break from "unning" and sitting nicely on our hospital bed, quietly looking at some books.  Finishing the stack I had brought, Evie quickly stood up.  She quickly turned to look at me, horror in her little face, and then tears and cries.  I looked frantically to try and figure out what had upset her.....and that's when I saw it. Evie's line was pulled very tightly, she had stood up on it, and it was yanked right out, the needle in her port falling out of her shirt.  As this was not the first time, I knew that it was not good, especially as her chemo drip was not yet finished.  I immediately lurched forward on the bed and grabbed the "CALL" button, paging the nurse to our room.  I could hear them in the hallway coming to see what was needed...I snuggled Evie so she would settle down, which is when I noticed....Evelyn's needle, still connected to her IV drip, was in my shin.  I was now hooked up to the machine, getting my very own dose of chemo.  Without even thinking I pulled it out.  Almost instantly a nurse was in the room, and as I attempted to explain the situation I saw the confusion and likely a bit of hilarity hiding somewhere in there too. 

Within about 20 minutes everything was back to normal; Evie had been checked out, cleared to go home, and I had a chat with one of the neuro-oncologists to ensure me that my tiny dose of chemo would leave me generally unscathed....still shaken up, coming down from a bit of an anxiety attack, and slightly mortified, I couldnt wait to leave.

I guess it's more one of those, funny now that it's over.......so it's over, and it's fine....we can all share a laugh.....god knows the nursing staff at 8D likely are.