Maldiction!

I got a call at 4:15 Friday afternoon that I am supposed to show up for round two of ESHAP chemotherapy at 9:00 Monday morning. Am I alone in regarding this as desperately short notice? Now I have to call work with basically no advance warning at all and tell them that I won't be working at all next week, which I'm sure will go over extremely well indeed. Sigh.

And since the ducks are not properly aligned for the stem cell harvest to take place, this is going to be a "placeholder" chemo. The plan was to do the harvest a few days after the chemo, but I don't have a cost contract from the hospital yet, I haven't had my Hickman line installed, and things just aren't ready, so I'm probably going to have to wait till the third chemo for the stem cell transplant to begin. Sigh. Again.

ESHAP made me feel so bad the last time that the prospect of having to go through it three times instead of just two fills me with an urge to blurt a long series of bad words. A while back we went to the Mexican Riviera on vacation (somewhere south of Playa del Carmen, but I forget the name of the resort) where my nephew and I shared a hotel room. One night we watched Kill Bill on cable. I think it was Kill Bill. I don't honestly remember. But whatever it was, it was in English with Spanish subtitles, and there was a lot of cussing in the movie. Every time someone in the movie wound up and spat out a meaningless empty curse, usually of the reproductive sort, the subtitle merely read Maldiction! That means "bad word", doesn't it?

So here I am, reviewing my limited options, and muttering maldiction! Maldiction! Oh, maldiction!