hi ho hi ho
Back to Rochester we go.
You'd think that a 10 am appointment to have somebody show you how to put on an ace bandage would be no big deal - especially since I am the queen of sprained ankles. (Don't take my word for it, ask Rico - or better yet ask the Mayo doctor who looked at my wrapping job and said it was "awesome - really wonderful - superb actually". Yeah she did. And she didn't even have to demonstrate, I just did it.)
So you'd plan for your 10 am appointment. You'd leave at 8 in the morning, making sure you had a babysitter until 2:00 - because my god, how long can it take to confirm that my 8th grade first aid training still stands? You'd think six hours should be sufficient.
And that friends, is where your whole plan would go to hell.
Because here 10 am, means at least 10:15, which is when they "room" you. At 10:30 the doctor may (or may not) come in. When they do, you realize that while you have a very competent PA, it is not the surgeon you had an appointment with because he is busy, well, surgeoning. And because Rico's case is rare, of course there are things that only said surgeon could address. So after an examination, the PA attempts to call the surgeon, but of course he's repairing the spleen of the Queen of England or something, so he can't get back to us until after surgery, which will be another two hours.
But we can't leave the room to have lunch, because if by chance he's free, (He won't be, this guy never sleeps - it's inhuman how hard he works) we don't want to miss him. So you sit in the exam room, half disrobed, freezing, waiting. About an hour and a half later, PA returns saying the surgeon's not coming after all, but she's sending you for an ultrasound, just to check things out.
It's 1:30. Your ultrasound can't be scheduled until 2:45. And the whole thing starts again. But now your babysitter is gone. (Thank heavens for fairy godfathers who step in at a moments notice.) But P.S. you need to come back to Mayo on Monday because this place is so big that you can't even wheel to the other office before they close.
We really are grateful for the care Rico is getting. It really is the best. But it's very easy to see how people, how whole families can just "become" the disease.
Because cancer is a health suck, and an energy suck, and a happiness suck and a time suck.
Because today it took 8 hours for us to go to Rochester so I could put on Rico's ace bandage and we could pick up a prescription.
Because every minute of every day is spent fighting the good fight.
But he's worth it.
So worth it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
You'd think that a 10 am appointment to have somebody show you how to put on an ace bandage would be no big deal - especially since I am the queen of sprained ankles. (Don't take my word for it, ask Rico - or better yet ask the Mayo doctor who looked at my wrapping job and said it was "awesome - really wonderful - superb actually". Yeah she did. And she didn't even have to demonstrate, I just did it.)
So you'd plan for your 10 am appointment. You'd leave at 8 in the morning, making sure you had a babysitter until 2:00 - because my god, how long can it take to confirm that my 8th grade first aid training still stands? You'd think six hours should be sufficient.
And that friends, is where your whole plan would go to hell.
Because here 10 am, means at least 10:15, which is when they "room" you. At 10:30 the doctor may (or may not) come in. When they do, you realize that while you have a very competent PA, it is not the surgeon you had an appointment with because he is busy, well, surgeoning. And because Rico's case is rare, of course there are things that only said surgeon could address. So after an examination, the PA attempts to call the surgeon, but of course he's repairing the spleen of the Queen of England or something, so he can't get back to us until after surgery, which will be another two hours.
But we can't leave the room to have lunch, because if by chance he's free, (He won't be, this guy never sleeps - it's inhuman how hard he works) we don't want to miss him. So you sit in the exam room, half disrobed, freezing, waiting. About an hour and a half later, PA returns saying the surgeon's not coming after all, but she's sending you for an ultrasound, just to check things out.
It's 1:30. Your ultrasound can't be scheduled until 2:45. And the whole thing starts again. But now your babysitter is gone. (Thank heavens for fairy godfathers who step in at a moments notice.) But P.S. you need to come back to Mayo on Monday because this place is so big that you can't even wheel to the other office before they close.
We really are grateful for the care Rico is getting. It really is the best. But it's very easy to see how people, how whole families can just "become" the disease.
Because cancer is a health suck, and an energy suck, and a happiness suck and a time suck.
Because today it took 8 hours for us to go to Rochester so I could put on Rico's ace bandage and we could pick up a prescription.
Because every minute of every day is spent fighting the good fight.
But he's worth it.
So worth it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
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