Know that song? You may or may not. It's the opening line to a song called One written by a man named Harry and performed by a band called Three Dog Night. A long time ago. It still rings true and popped into my head recently.
I received a little care package last week. From the very lovely people I work with. Instead of just my paycheck, which is enough to send by itself and I'm so thankful for by the way, also came a bunch of other little goodies.
A lovely card with lots of wishes signed by several people. This cute little tiara with a fancy black fun feather that sticks up, this pink pencil with some candy attached to the end (WHO doesn't need a pencil like that in their life??) some little trinkets and a few cute rubber duckies. Oh AND aaannndd twenty dollas. That's right, I got twenty dollas. You see, earlier in the week a few amazing generous people from my office actually bought me a fridge. And a microwave. Yes you are reading this correctly. The doorbell rings- ding dong. I open it and there's a box with a brand new mini fridge. Next day. Ding dong-there is a microwave! Amazing really. It was so I could have my own set up close to me (my house is kinda big with two floors). So the twenty dollars has a note attached that said: for snacks to put in your fridge with a smiley face.
When I tell you not to feel sorry for me I mean it. It's because I could share with you 25 stories about amazing generosity like this that comes to me every single day. What?? Who is that blessed or lucky? Well me. I am. These little acts of generosity I receive may not always be quite as large as a fridge or cute as little notes or funny little ducks but it's generosity all the same. And I'm humbled and awed into a state of grace.
Here's a funny thing about what thoughtful gestures mean to people and it's interesting coincidence on timing. This little package? It came to me on my "crash" day. They tell you all about it up at the chemo cocktail place. They sure do. Like this (talking like my sweet high voiced oncologist nurse Cynthia) "Well honey early next week after this first chemo you are gonna feel tired. Ok? Usually around Tuesday. And you are gonna want to stay in bed all day. But remember you need to be sure to try to get up a little and absolutely make sure you drink water and eat something. Even if it's ice cream. Okkkaayy?" She tells me this all the while looking over her glasses and nodding her head encouragingly. Looking at me first and then at nurse muneca. She says to nurse muneca "she's gonna feel tired honey."
Really I said while I raised my eyebrow a little suspiciously. Like that tired? Even though I haven't done that one day ever. Even after allllllll my surgeries? Ok, thanks for the advice my dear, I will watch for it, be ready and do my best to beg for ice cream if needed. She laughs and says oh good. And off I go.
So here I was all last week waiting for the crash. It was mmeeehhhh not great but not like I gotta stay in bed all day tired and weakly call out for ice cream please with a dry scratchy throat because I can't drink water. Tempting as that vision is that didn't happen. I was just doing my thing, moving around a little and well slowly ya know cuz If I don't it makes me nauusseeooouuusss (singing that word all operary like). This was tested several times when I acted like a stupida thinking I'm all normal moving at a normal pace then oooo boo, that queasy feeling comes on. So I chilled. And I def moved slow. Def slower while holding my nose during the FML I gotta open the fridge and possibly catch a stink drift that might be floating outta there. It seemed to be working. Except for once I forgot about the smells that wafts out and lingers there after you close the fridge and I walked right into it after. Calmate-no throwing up here, I got skills but I'll admit it was a close call.
All that was before I got my very own non smelly fridge. To place my non smelly items and not have to hold my nose or carefully strategically place my shirt over the top of my nose and do this awkward hold pattern. See timing? I didn't know I was going to need that.
It was during this week of wait for the crash time I thought to myself: weeeeellll this sure isn't the funniest time I had but it sure isn't----heeeellppp I can't get up, bring ice cream.
Thursday afternoon rolls around and I start feeling kinda chilly. I put some layers on. I feel more cold. I even put socks on. I never wear socks. Hercules gets home and I suggest maaaayybee we turn on the heat. Then I suggest (really I begged) he bring me a 4th blanket to go with my other three and maaaayyybeee he can tuck them around me like a burrito? You know to be sure that no heat escapes anywhere, up to my chin please I tell him. While he is doing that calling me his mami burrito he kisses me. Before I could smile and say thank you my teeth start chattering and my body too. I start to do some simple 2+2 math and realize.
Oh. Crash. This is the day. We call my doc who has me start taking some Tylenol right away and alternate with Advil every four hours. Usually when this happen with chills and low grade fever you are to go directly to hospital, do not pass go, do not collect $200 for an immediate IV antibiotic drip. Being that the Tylenol would stop my chills and I was to see my doctor the next morning anyway he said he will take care of me. I don't like hospitals and I was too freezing cold to move so I said fine with me doc. Except when your teeth are chattering it sounds different. Ooookkaay doooccc gooodd niightt while Hercules is going for the Tylenol.
So that's the day my package came. Earlier in the day. I could not open it when I was by myself. Cuz I was tiirirrrreeeddddd and weak in my arms (rolling my eyes) -no joke. When Hercules opens it there comes tumbling out those cute little things along with a card and a little play money. Well now, even a girl going through a crash day with some horrible chills wrapped up like a burrito would smile. So I did.
Thank you ever so kindly lovely ladies for thinking of me and by coincidence happens to be on one of my lowest days in a long time I tell my manager when I send an email thanking them.
To finish my story and give you some closure (as if you needed any but your getting it anyway, I ain't got anything else to do) the next day I dragged my aching body up out of my comfy warm bed, threw a wig on and some cute scarf (I have hair it's just dull like, lack lustery) to get myself out the door while my parents drive me to my oncologist. It's there they do my weekly blood draw that the culprit is found. And out of the closet for all to see and point at. My white blood cell count. It's supposed to be like 4.0 to 10.0. For me, for you, for anyone. Well mine is 1. Just one. A lonely number of one. Almost zero. Poor little guy. And absolutely the cause of my body aches chills rising temp and tired feeling, really tired like crash tired.
So I'm grounded now with restrictions. No raw food or touch dead things (raw chicken or fish) It could kill me if it had some nasty bacteria hanging around on it. No being around people, you know because they tend to breath and have germs. I have to wash my hands a lot. No problem there. Everyone else has to wash and sanitize their hands too and hold their breath around me. I'm put on a round of take two a day antibiotics to prevent infection. When I ask if I have any other restrictions my doc said nope, just try to be as normal as you can but be careful for at least 4 days. That neulasta shot they gave me after chemo to boost my white blood cell count is doing it's work, bringing on new immunity any day now. I know it's working because I was believing it to be and I was praying on it. But mostly I knew because the shot makes your bones hurt. Really bad. And my bones hurt. They tell me thats the marrow producing more of those lil suckas. Fine by me.
Here's what my dog mason thinks about the no white blood cell count situation. See pic below. Me? I got some words but they are not for the pious or young.
I received a little care package last week. From the very lovely people I work with. Instead of just my paycheck, which is enough to send by itself and I'm so thankful for by the way, also came a bunch of other little goodies.
A lovely card with lots of wishes signed by several people. This cute little tiara with a fancy black fun feather that sticks up, this pink pencil with some candy attached to the end (WHO doesn't need a pencil like that in their life??) some little trinkets and a few cute rubber duckies. Oh AND aaannndd twenty dollas. That's right, I got twenty dollas. You see, earlier in the week a few amazing generous people from my office actually bought me a fridge. And a microwave. Yes you are reading this correctly. The doorbell rings- ding dong. I open it and there's a box with a brand new mini fridge. Next day. Ding dong-there is a microwave! Amazing really. It was so I could have my own set up close to me (my house is kinda big with two floors). So the twenty dollars has a note attached that said: for snacks to put in your fridge with a smiley face.
When I tell you not to feel sorry for me I mean it. It's because I could share with you 25 stories about amazing generosity like this that comes to me every single day. What?? Who is that blessed or lucky? Well me. I am. These little acts of generosity I receive may not always be quite as large as a fridge or cute as little notes or funny little ducks but it's generosity all the same. And I'm humbled and awed into a state of grace.
Here's a funny thing about what thoughtful gestures mean to people and it's interesting coincidence on timing. This little package? It came to me on my "crash" day. They tell you all about it up at the chemo cocktail place. They sure do. Like this (talking like my sweet high voiced oncologist nurse Cynthia) "Well honey early next week after this first chemo you are gonna feel tired. Ok? Usually around Tuesday. And you are gonna want to stay in bed all day. But remember you need to be sure to try to get up a little and absolutely make sure you drink water and eat something. Even if it's ice cream. Okkkaayy?" She tells me this all the while looking over her glasses and nodding her head encouragingly. Looking at me first and then at nurse muneca. She says to nurse muneca "she's gonna feel tired honey."
Really I said while I raised my eyebrow a little suspiciously. Like that tired? Even though I haven't done that one day ever. Even after allllllll my surgeries? Ok, thanks for the advice my dear, I will watch for it, be ready and do my best to beg for ice cream if needed. She laughs and says oh good. And off I go.
So here I was all last week waiting for the crash. It was mmeeehhhh not great but not like I gotta stay in bed all day tired and weakly call out for ice cream please with a dry scratchy throat because I can't drink water. Tempting as that vision is that didn't happen. I was just doing my thing, moving around a little and well slowly ya know cuz If I don't it makes me nauusseeooouuusss (singing that word all operary like). This was tested several times when I acted like a stupida thinking I'm all normal moving at a normal pace then oooo boo, that queasy feeling comes on. So I chilled. And I def moved slow. Def slower while holding my nose during the FML I gotta open the fridge and possibly catch a stink drift that might be floating outta there. It seemed to be working. Except for once I forgot about the smells that wafts out and lingers there after you close the fridge and I walked right into it after. Calmate-no throwing up here, I got skills but I'll admit it was a close call.
All that was before I got my very own non smelly fridge. To place my non smelly items and not have to hold my nose or carefully strategically place my shirt over the top of my nose and do this awkward hold pattern. See timing? I didn't know I was going to need that.
It was during this week of wait for the crash time I thought to myself: weeeeellll this sure isn't the funniest time I had but it sure isn't----heeeellppp I can't get up, bring ice cream.
Thursday afternoon rolls around and I start feeling kinda chilly. I put some layers on. I feel more cold. I even put socks on. I never wear socks. Hercules gets home and I suggest maaaayybee we turn on the heat. Then I suggest (really I begged) he bring me a 4th blanket to go with my other three and maaaayyybeee he can tuck them around me like a burrito? You know to be sure that no heat escapes anywhere, up to my chin please I tell him. While he is doing that calling me his mami burrito he kisses me. Before I could smile and say thank you my teeth start chattering and my body too. I start to do some simple 2+2 math and realize.
Oh. Crash. This is the day. We call my doc who has me start taking some Tylenol right away and alternate with Advil every four hours. Usually when this happen with chills and low grade fever you are to go directly to hospital, do not pass go, do not collect $200 for an immediate IV antibiotic drip. Being that the Tylenol would stop my chills and I was to see my doctor the next morning anyway he said he will take care of me. I don't like hospitals and I was too freezing cold to move so I said fine with me doc. Except when your teeth are chattering it sounds different. Ooookkaay doooccc gooodd niightt while Hercules is going for the Tylenol.
So that's the day my package came. Earlier in the day. I could not open it when I was by myself. Cuz I was tiirirrrreeeddddd and weak in my arms (rolling my eyes) -no joke. When Hercules opens it there comes tumbling out those cute little things along with a card and a little play money. Well now, even a girl going through a crash day with some horrible chills wrapped up like a burrito would smile. So I did.
Thank you ever so kindly lovely ladies for thinking of me and by coincidence happens to be on one of my lowest days in a long time I tell my manager when I send an email thanking them.
To finish my story and give you some closure (as if you needed any but your getting it anyway, I ain't got anything else to do) the next day I dragged my aching body up out of my comfy warm bed, threw a wig on and some cute scarf (I have hair it's just dull like, lack lustery) to get myself out the door while my parents drive me to my oncologist. It's there they do my weekly blood draw that the culprit is found. And out of the closet for all to see and point at. My white blood cell count. It's supposed to be like 4.0 to 10.0. For me, for you, for anyone. Well mine is 1. Just one. A lonely number of one. Almost zero. Poor little guy. And absolutely the cause of my body aches chills rising temp and tired feeling, really tired like crash tired.
So I'm grounded now with restrictions. No raw food or touch dead things (raw chicken or fish) It could kill me if it had some nasty bacteria hanging around on it. No being around people, you know because they tend to breath and have germs. I have to wash my hands a lot. No problem there. Everyone else has to wash and sanitize their hands too and hold their breath around me. I'm put on a round of take two a day antibiotics to prevent infection. When I ask if I have any other restrictions my doc said nope, just try to be as normal as you can but be careful for at least 4 days. That neulasta shot they gave me after chemo to boost my white blood cell count is doing it's work, bringing on new immunity any day now. I know it's working because I was believing it to be and I was praying on it. But mostly I knew because the shot makes your bones hurt. Really bad. And my bones hurt. They tell me thats the marrow producing more of those lil suckas. Fine by me.
Here's what my dog mason thinks about the no white blood cell count situation. See pic below. Me? I got some words but they are not for the pious or young.
