So Much for 40 Hours

This is the week I was going to work 40 hours.  All I had to do today was seven hours and 45 minutes.  No biggie.  I've felt fine most of this week, and I got in early, so it should have been smooth sailing.  Should have been.

About an hour in, my nose just started gushing blood with no warning.  Well, what an interesting development.  And I was glad I had a spare shirt in my car.  It took over ten minutes to get it to stop, and the whole time I was thinking, "I think this is on the list."   There is a list of side effects that, if they  happen, I am to call any time, day or night.  When I finally got it stopped, I checked the list.

Yup.  It's on the list.  I didn't call right away, though.  I knew the office would be open in less than an hour, and it had stopped bleeding, so I waited until the office opened at eight and called.  I had to leave a message, but I got a call back in under five minutes.  The told me to come in for a blood draw.  I may need a platelet transfusion.  Shit.

They flushed my port, drew the blood, and left the port accessed, just in case they needed to do something, and then the wait started.  The nurse, whom I love, told me they'd put a "stat request" on the blood work with the lab.  I had electronics to entertain me, so I was fine.  After 30 minutes, I heard her ripping into someone in the lab.  It was funny.  She is grandmotherly and sweet and it was funny to hear that side of her.,

After 45 minutes, the results came back and she said all was OK.  I went back to work, knowing I could still get that 40 hours I was seeking.  I worked about an hour and a half and started feeling kinda crummy.  My headache was a bit worse, and then my face felt hot.  I checked my temp and it was 99, so I decided that it wasn't in the cards to get 40 hours this week.  I left at the 38 hour mark.

Now I'm home, in the recliner again, and just tired.  I hope I feel better for the weekend, since this process starts all over again on Wednesday.  I am relieved to know that my blood counts are in an acceptable range. That will make me feel better if any other weirdness pops up this weekend.

(Just so there is no confusion, nobody but me is pushing for 40 hours.  My employer is being amazing about letting me work whatever I can, and Kevin can't believe I'm getting in the number of hours that I am.  I just want to do 40 on the off week, since I'll always be short on the chemo weeks.)