Same ear worm, different verse ...
Through early morning fog I see
Visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see...
Another morning of tests and drinking odd fluids and having holes punctured in my arm. Today it was not-too-nasty kool-aid, then the iodine injection and that freaky warmth. This time I also had a distinct burning on the left side of my left breast, right where I'd had the fibroadenoma removed and replaced with a shiny metal clip. Close my eyes, arms up, breathe deep and hold, breathe (as if I'd forget) and then nothing to show for the experience but a psychedelic pink bandage wrapped around my arm. Why don't we get cats after a CAT scan? Sort of a door prize.
I needed much more than a door prize ... I have never had a reaction to iodine before, and I don't think this would qualify as an allergic reaction, but about an hour after I left the lab, I started to feel sick. I had stopped at the lake on my way home and even got some good pictures of ducks, but then I rather suddenly had to head home. Fortunately it's only a five minute drive, and once I got home, I headed straight upstairs. I was in pain, and I cried. The details are unnecessary, but the last thing I remember before getting into bed was a very worried Romeo, checking to see if I was breathing.
I lost most of the day. I know I had bad dreams. When I finally did wake up, seven hours had passed and Romeo was still glued to my side. I realize now that the heat reaction from the iodine was much more intense than I have previously experienced.
I have another medical test on Thursday; this time I have to drink that disgusting barium goop. Good luck with that and I sincerely pray I don't throw it all up. In the meantime, while all these tests are being administered and precious blood drained from my body, I feel worse than ever. I want to eat, I want to taste food, I want to be able to swallow and grab some of the nutrients, but I can't.
We appear to be in a stand-off with the fleas. A step in the right direction.
And I am going back to sleep. It is the one thing I do really well.