I am one unhappy puppy.
It is one thing to get up early to make an 8:00 blood test.
It is another to get a call asking me to come back a second time, because they had done the wrong test.
At least both times we missed the traffic. We live about 20 minutes away or an hour if it is rush hour.
The one good thing was that they were able to hit the vein the first time. On the trip back into the city I was dreading it because of the times it took four or five times. This was not any nurse's fault. It is my veins.
However, I do not want to delay the implant of the port-a-cath nor my next chemo. The faster I can go thru the program the faster I can get on with my normal life.
Rick was wonderful as usual, a calming influence. He never negates my feelings and at the same time puts them in perspective.
I am not a refugee. I am not like some of my friends in Damascus living under bombings. Despite the mix up, the care is wonderful and it will not bankrupt me thanks to the Swiss insurance system.
Now, if they would only call and tell me what time Monday, I will probably start wagging my tail
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