Throwing Your Retainer in the Lunchroom Trash

Who let Uncle Fester in this house?! 

 

Oh, it's me.  Without makeup.  Or hair.

 

I might be ready to revisit a wig.  Thank God for eyebrows.

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Stop me if I told you this already.  My primary weekly chemo drug is Taxol. Every 4th treatment week I get an added bonus boost of another chemo drug, Carboplatin.  I call that "T&C Week". While Taxol is sucking the life from my joints, took most of my hair and makes me sleepy, it fortunately doesn't make me nauseas.  Oh, but Carboplatin. 

Carboplatin's most common side effects are "nausea, vomiting, unusual tiredness or weakness".  "Unusual" is an interesting word.  If by "unusual" they mean "a 5 day nap on the mattress of your choice" consider that definition nailed.

As one could well imagine, T&C Week isn't my favorite.  It's the week I experience the greatest emotional, physical and spiritual battles.   It's also the week I'm prescribed $400 in anti-nausea drugs and you better believe I'm using them.   

The in-house pharmacy at Sloan is fantastic - they deliver your take home, post-chemo meds during your treatment in a small paper bag.  I typically open the bag during chemo and review its contents to ensure I have everything I need, saving the receipts in my purse.  You know what else comes in a small paper bag?  Lunch. 

Immediately following treatment, after the nurse unhooks me from the chemo machine, I take a minute or two to sit up and shake off the Benadryl.  Lou and I gather our belongings, make sure our space is as clean as we found it, wish our nurses a great week and make our escape.   

Off to the elevator and down to the main floor we went last week, happy the day's treatment was over and eager to go home.  I had already taken my first dose of the super drug Emend and...where's my Emend?  Hold on a minute - Where's my Emend and where's the Zofran? 

Me:  Lou, do you have my meds?

Lou:  I thought you put them in your purse?

Me:  I didn't put them in my purse.  They were in the paper bag.  Honey, did you throw the bag away?

The look of horror on his face said it all.  His eyes screamed "I can't believe I threw the meds away".

You haven't witnessed efficiency and professionalism in the world of hospital cleanup until you've experienced the environmental team at Sloan.  Faster than you can blink these quiet men and women swoop in on their territory to completely clean and sanitize an area for the next patient's use.  In the time it took us to get on the elevator, travel a few floors, realize our error, exit the elevator and enter another elevator to go back up to the GYN floor, my chemo cubby's trash could be halfway to a landfill; they're just that ninja. 

As quickly as the rush of frustration came over me of having potentially lost $400 worth of covered drugs - the adult equivalent of throwing your retainer in the lunchroom trash - I had to calm down, take a breath and put reality in perspective.

1. God has it under control.  I've had 11th hour pharmacy crisis experiences before and God always made a way.  One way or another, we'll get the meds back.
2. Do I have a right to let loose on my husband?  After all, I'm not 100% when I'm immediately done with chemo and he threw the meds away.  The answer is no!  This cancer crap sucks and like many medical problems, can test the limits of a marriage.  When you have a stellar spouse by your side who wipes your tears and sacrifices sleep so you're never alone, you shut your mouth over the petty stuff. 

Having returned to my treatment floor, we flew back into the chemo area, two determined tornadoes.  Sure enough, my chemo cubby was clean and the trash was missing.

"UM.  WE ACCIDENTALLY THREW AWAY MY MEDS"

I nicely yelled to the nurse's station. 

Immediately two fantastic staff members shot around us and across the floor, through hallways and back corridors, determined to track down our trash and the environmental staffer moving it.  Lou followed as I shuffled slowly behind.  "Lord, I'm sorry we were careless with the medicine.  Please help us find it." The clock was ticking.  One hall after another came up empty.  Within a few minutes, however, the staff found our man, along with his massive rolling trash bin, headed toward the service elevator.  This kind gentleman was more than happy to stop and assist.  I was never so grateful for clear trash bags in my life. He laid bag after bag on the floor until I was able to spot my small paper bag right next to my empty 20 oz hot tea cup and discarded lunch.  As much as we insisted on helping him retrieve our items from the filthy bag, he wouldn't hear of it.  Staff at other hospitals might have rolled their eyes and mumbled to themselves as we inconvenienced their day, but not these folks and not this very sweet guy. 

I'm going to switch gears here for a minute because it's on my heart.  It doesn't matter what title you have at work or what tasks you're required to perform.  Of all the compassionate people, fancy job titles and prestigious positions at Sloan, it was the cheerful, gracious cleaning guy who blessed our day the most last week.  Not because he saved us hundreds of dollars, but because he was so happy, from his heart, to help.

Colossians 3:23-24 - Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward.