Friday. Chemo Day. Yay! Dani & I arrive at 7 West at 0815 for blood draw. It's a beautiful stick. Near perfect. The Nurse draws 3 tubes, tapes the port to my arm, and we head over to Lombardi to see my Doc.
BP 138/98. Fuck-an-A.
I tell my Doc about my tongue/mouth woes and she takes a look. "Herpes" she says. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. And a big Fuckin' hindsight "DOH"! Two of my tongue sores seemed to be getting worse the last few days. They couldn't be due to chemo. DOH! DOH! DOH! She writes me a script for Famvir (Famciclovir: anti-viral specific for herpesviridae family) and more "magic mouthwash". We go back to the waiting room. Labs aren't in yet. And no, it 'taint HSV-2, smart asses. Had an outbreak of HSV-1 once, back in Highschool. Fucker was just waiting.
We sit and wait. I'm not sure which way it's gonna go. I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of hoping. I wanna just go with the flow. The Nurse comes out:
WBC - 2.5
ANC - 900.
Chemo delayed until Wednesday. Doc says to enjoy the weekend. Probably nothing more detrimental to chemo therapy than delaying treatment once its started. But they can't risk treatment. WTF? I go back to have my port removed and we leave. Dani's quite upset. I don't know if I care anymore.
Fuck it.
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