May no new thing arise

I said a fond goodbye today to my oldest, dearest, go-to sweatpants, a Target purchase circa 2005. They have been called into service even more often than usual these past weeks, and today they came out of the dryer basically in shreds. As I stood over the waste basket to commune with them one last time, I stuck my fingers through holes until I ran out of fingers. The redhead said a few words – specifically, “You’re not throwing those away, are you? They’re still good! – to which I made a mental note to monitor his leisure wardrobe more carefully.

We had some drama this past week though. I woke up Monday morning with signs and symptoms of an infection, which for a chemo patient is a medical emergency. I duly presented myself to my doctor, who within the hour had slapped me into the hospital and hooked me up to two broad-spectrum intravenous antibiotics. Turns out, my implanted mediport – yes, the same mediport of blood clot fame – had developed a bacterial infection, as 26% of them do over time. Luckily, we caught it and avoided sepsis. The docs removed the port, and I may have fired off an obscenity in its general direction as they carried it from the room.

While in the hospital, I received a variety of tests and treatments, including a blood transfusion. Getting a blood transfusion is an odd feeling. As it began running, I wondered aloud who the blood might have belonged to; and my wonderful redhead reassured me that it probably came from some meth addict. He (the redhead, not the meth addict) spent every night on the couch in my hospital room and worked during the day; and by the time they sent us home Thursday night, he looked worse than I did.

The Spanish have a saying: “Que no haya novedad.” May no new thing arise. It is now my mantra.

In the unlikely event you did not get the memo, October is breast cancer awareness month. Girlfriends, please get your mammogram no matter what your age, even if you have to pay for it out of pocket; and while you’re at it, swing by your gynecology specialist – and if you don’t have one, get one – for a quick cervical cancer test and a discussion of any risk factors you may have for ovarian cancer. Please.