It just hasn't been my summer so far. even though the war against the infected vein was won, the recovery was awful. I was pretty dozy at work the week I returned, and in retrospect, I probably shouldn't have bothered to even go. The following week I was back to form, but unfortunately I was only there for the first three days of that week. I think that I got some work done, though.
Here's where things start to go awry again. Last Thursday, August 2, I started my third and final round of chemo before surgery. It was more or less normal. Instead of a PICC line in my venously mangled left arm, they put one in my right arm. After all, it was to be the final treatment lasting only five days after which they would remove the line. However, on Sunday night I started feeling some discomfort in my right arm. Monday morning around 11 am, I decided to see what they could do at the hospital, although I didn't hold out much hope. I figured that I would be there a couple of hours, they would tell me that there wasn't much they could do (I was hoping maybe for an adjustment of the line) and I could go back to work and my Hamburger Helper which I had packed with me.
I was in emergency for 30 hours. During that time I learned that:
