Security Breach

A good day, in the grand scheme of things, because we're here at home and not in the hospital. That's always a measure of success--going to the treatment center and coming home afterward.

We got there in plenty of time for his 10:00 appointment, yet we had an impossible time finding a parking spot. I finally parked somewhere that was only sort of a parking spot, not knowing that such a maneuver would come back to bite me.

Got in for the blood draw relatively quickly, and I said that we'd go get a few groceries while we waited for the results. They assured me that they'd call as soon as they got the counts, so that in case The Boy needed anything, such as red cells or platelets or OH CRAP I forgot the neupogen.

(I interrupt that story to tell you what just happened: The Boy was just about asleep, settling down in his bed. I left to get the Neupogen. He cried. I came back prepared, put him on my lap, and minor hell broke lose. He squirmed. It hurt way more than it should, I'm sure, when he got the injection, and I managed to stick myself. Fun times. Not doing THAT again without help.)

Anyhow...so back to this morning. We left for the grocery store at 10:30, thinking that surely by the time we were done, they'd call us with the counts and tell us when to come back. But we couldn't get very far, because a gigantic SUV was blocking me in. I talked to the security guard/valet, who proceeded to yell at me. He wouldn't even let me finish telling him what was wrong, just yelled at me in mostly incomprehensible English. Finally, I understood him enough to tell him that no, I did not just come from the ER with The Boy, but rather, from the outpatient center, in the other direction. I still didn't understand why it was relevant until finally he indicated the ID bracelet on The Boy's ankle. We proceeded back to the outpatient center, with him still yelling at me, and me now yelling back that we couldn't leave because he had blocked me in.

Our buddy at the front desk explained to the guard that all of the outpatients also had to wear ID bands to match up with any medications that they were receiving and he explained that he didn't want just anyone to walk out with a patient. Fine. I can see how such vigilance would be useful. But not only was he obnoxious, but I could also not really understand him most of the time. Furthermore, pediatrics patients wear little security tags, like kiddie low-jack. And, to boot, we had been coming to this center for about 7 months, with The Boy wearing an ID band every time, and walking out with it every time. So either the entire security staff had been clueless for that long and longer, or this one guy had just decided to give me a hard time.

The receptionist cut off The Boy's ID tag, and our buddy moved the giant SUV so that we could leave. 10:45, by this point.

A trip to the store takes about 45 minutes, give or take. We didn't get that much food at the store, but we did take our time. Fortunately, I had brought a bagel from the treatment center (they do take care of us in that regard...lots of snacks because we spend lots of time there) so that The Boy wouldn't be too hungry. He usually has a snack in the middle of the day, and he usually has a later lunch. By 11:30, which was an hour after we originally planned to leave the center, we were done shopping, so I called over to the center to see if The Boy's counts were back. Supposedly, it takes about half an hour, maybe a little more...but no matter, I was unable to get a hold of them.

For some unexplainable reason, there are times when the phone doesn't actually get answered and goes instead to the answering service. But the answering service doesn't actually answer anything. They do take emergency messages to page the doctors, usually during off-hours, but other than that...nothing. Sometimes the answering service takes over when everyone is at lunch, but I know that they don't eat lunch at 11:30. No answer...and at this point I should have headed back there anyway, but in my stupidity and in my rage leftover from the run-in with the guard, I went home.

I got The Boy and the groceries in the house, and I gave The Boy some juice. No sooner did I do that than I got a call that yes, we did need to go back to the center. I changed The Boy's diaper, got us back on the road, and took The Boy's juice because I didn't really want him drinking it while we were moving. Didn't want the mess. Fitfitfitfitfit...

We returned to the center, having had no lunch, and got through the preliminaries for the platelet transfusion with surprising swiftness. There were sandwiches, which The Boy wasn't sure about...but fortunately, he ate a big piece of turkey, and some bread. He also finished the juice that I had taken from him as well as about half a cup more.

The platelet transfusion went just fine. The Boy slept for most of it, because he gets Benadryl and Tylenol before his transfusions, in case of a reaction. I watched TV with The Boy snuggled up to me. It is a nice feeling, even though I prefer bed, at home, to the recliner at the treatment center.

Musical Daddy got a little over an hour with The Boy before he had to leave for a meeting and a rehearsal. No fun for him. Good dinner, some playtime, a bath, some snuggles, and bedtime things. And then forgetting the Neupogen. Literally, as I was writing this blog, thinking about platelets, red cells, and white cells, I realized that I had forgotten Neupogen (which triggers white cell production).

I'm beat.