I Didn’t Mean to Get Cancer on the Weekend

SEPTEMBER 26, 2020

cancer on weekend.jpeg

If you believe in Murphy, then you know Murphy’s Law rules. It just never fails. A weird symptom, a fever, not feeling well or a UTI always show up after normal business hours. “If this is an emergency please hang up and dial 911. Otherwise, please press one and a doctor will be paged.”

3-day weekends used to be a source of pleasure, anticipation and delight. Three days off in a row! An extra day to just relax. Or maybe 72 hours for a quick getaway.

Now 3-day weekends fill me with anxiety. Which of my doctors might be going out of town? Who might I call in an emergency? Can I go three whole days without needing medicine or medical guidance?  3-day weekend? No thank you. I’ll take extra weekdays along with more business hours; then maybe I can relax. 

I never let symptoms or side effects build up. I don’t like to wait till it’s three in the morning, two in the morning or Saturday morning. Like today. Today, The Weekend, I wake up not feeling okay. UTI relapse? It sure feels like that. Ugh. I’ve only been off antibiotics for 24 hours. Do I resume for a few more days or do I need to switch?

 I wait another hour for 9 AM, not wanting to bother anyone too early.  I spend time reading online, pacing around my house, trying to think what I should do.  What I need is medical advice; it’s not a life-threatening situation but a definite urgent situation. And I don’t want things to get systemic, into my kidneys. I’m still recovering from a rough chemo cycle and am worried about my counts. And while I may not have had a lot of (UTI) colonies, the settlers I did have wreaked havoc and I felt cruddy.

Finally at 9:00AM I make peace with the fact that I’m going to text my nurse practitioner.  I make peace with the fact that I hate to bother her but I’m going to bother her. I am so fortunate and grateful for her guidance and support. She’s been helping me for over 10 years.

We go back and forth with an information exchange.  And decide to resume the antibiotics that I just stopped, hoping a few more days will kill the remaining colonists.  Or at least discourage them from staying.  I’m back pushing fluids, trying to flush my system.  It’s exhausting.

I hate Murphy and his law. And I hate having a disease that doesn’t care about business hours.  And while I am playing whack-a-mole with smacking down metastatic breast cancer, I can’t afford to lose time to a UTI.  Hoping Murphey and his law leave me alone until Monday! For now it’s me against those settlers.

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