Thursday, April 16, 2020
I rode a limousine to and from my wound care appointment. Okay, it was the city bus, but it felt like a limousine. Today was the first day I have ridden on the bus for four weeks. Approximately two weeks ago, physical space for bus drivers was implemented. Our transit system had announced, in an effort to keep riders at least six feet from drivers, riders were requested to board the bus from the back door and fares would be waived. Today, I was able to see physical space for bus drivers in action.
Even with physical space for bus drivers implemented, I still board the bus through the front door because I use a wheelchair and the ramp is located inside the front door. When I rolled on the bus, both sets of seats were already raised, so I could roll right into the wheelchair space of my choosing. There was caution tape wrapped across the aisle directly behind the two wheelchair spaces to prevent the patrons from getting too close to the driver and the few riders allowed to travel in the front.
I felt like a very important passenger. I did not even see other passengers because nobody else boarded from the front while I was riding, and I cannot turn my face around enough to see people behind me. I could learn to like physical space on buses. The driver told me the routes were still pretty full because people were taking advantage of the free rides. Personally, I am not going to risk my life to save 85 cents, but I am happy to save 85 cents (times two) for a medically necessary appointment.
I had a good would care appointment today. I was wearing a mask since when I left the house because it is difficult for me to put a mask on by myself. I decided I would leave the mask on until I got off the bus back in my neighborhood. Breathing into a mask can restrict oxygen flow a little. My blood pressure was 63/30 when I was first checked. The nurses cheated and took my blood pressure after I was transferred into the bed because your blood pressure is generally higher lying down. It was. I managed to gain anther three pounds during the past four weeks even without steroids. I rock! I am kicking cancer’s bootie!
One of the nurses has not been around on Thursdays since August because of a conflict with one of her master’s degree classes, so she inquired about my health. I gave the nurse a quick synopsis of my terminal diagnosis and she asked, “Are you journaling?” I laughed and told the nurse I started my journal two days after my terminal diagnosis, and I have been writing more than 600 words a day. I decided when I bundle the first 100 days into a book, I will gift a copy to the nurses to pass around if they like.
When Dr. Dash came into my room to check my wounds, she told me my tailbone still had a very tiny open spot under a skin flap, but it was healed enough to restart chemotherapy treatments again. Lucky me, I get to poison myself again. I am not going to lie; it has been genuinely nice not thinking about cancer killing me lately. Of course, I have been thinking about COVID-19 killing me instead. Same problem, different day. I rode my limousine home and gratefully took off my mask when the bus pulled away after letting me off.
My older daughter, Megan, told me the chiropractor she does massages for let her know he qualified for a Paycheck Protection Program loan. Megan and his other two employees will start getting paychecks next week. I do not know about the doctor’s other employees, but Megan does not qualify for unemployment because she takes care of me, so that money is very appreciated by Megan. Megan lost at least half her income when she lost her other two jobs and had not yet built her emergency fund after buying her house, so she has not had much spending money the past month.
My piece of advice to you is to enjoy your limousine, even when it is truly a bus. I am sure a lot of us have been beaten down by our current circumstances. The rainbow is forming, take the time to look for it.
Until next time,
Susanne
Please check out my GoFundMe page.
I rode a limousine to and from my wound care appointment. Okay, it was the city bus, but it felt like a limousine. Today was the first day I have ridden on the bus for four weeks. Approximately two weeks ago, physical space for bus drivers was implemented. Our transit system had announced, in an effort to keep riders at least six feet from drivers, riders were requested to board the bus from the back door and fares would be waived. Today, I was able to see physical space for bus drivers in action.
Even with physical space for bus drivers implemented, I still board the bus through the front door because I use a wheelchair and the ramp is located inside the front door. When I rolled on the bus, both sets of seats were already raised, so I could roll right into the wheelchair space of my choosing. There was caution tape wrapped across the aisle directly behind the two wheelchair spaces to prevent the patrons from getting too close to the driver and the few riders allowed to travel in the front.
I felt like a very important passenger. I did not even see other passengers because nobody else boarded from the front while I was riding, and I cannot turn my face around enough to see people behind me. I could learn to like physical space on buses. The driver told me the routes were still pretty full because people were taking advantage of the free rides. Personally, I am not going to risk my life to save 85 cents, but I am happy to save 85 cents (times two) for a medically necessary appointment.
I had a good would care appointment today. I was wearing a mask since when I left the house because it is difficult for me to put a mask on by myself. I decided I would leave the mask on until I got off the bus back in my neighborhood. Breathing into a mask can restrict oxygen flow a little. My blood pressure was 63/30 when I was first checked. The nurses cheated and took my blood pressure after I was transferred into the bed because your blood pressure is generally higher lying down. It was. I managed to gain anther three pounds during the past four weeks even without steroids. I rock! I am kicking cancer’s bootie!
One of the nurses has not been around on Thursdays since August because of a conflict with one of her master’s degree classes, so she inquired about my health. I gave the nurse a quick synopsis of my terminal diagnosis and she asked, “Are you journaling?” I laughed and told the nurse I started my journal two days after my terminal diagnosis, and I have been writing more than 600 words a day. I decided when I bundle the first 100 days into a book, I will gift a copy to the nurses to pass around if they like.
When Dr. Dash came into my room to check my wounds, she told me my tailbone still had a very tiny open spot under a skin flap, but it was healed enough to restart chemotherapy treatments again. Lucky me, I get to poison myself again. I am not going to lie; it has been genuinely nice not thinking about cancer killing me lately. Of course, I have been thinking about COVID-19 killing me instead. Same problem, different day. I rode my limousine home and gratefully took off my mask when the bus pulled away after letting me off.
My older daughter, Megan, told me the chiropractor she does massages for let her know he qualified for a Paycheck Protection Program loan. Megan and his other two employees will start getting paychecks next week. I do not know about the doctor’s other employees, but Megan does not qualify for unemployment because she takes care of me, so that money is very appreciated by Megan. Megan lost at least half her income when she lost her other two jobs and had not yet built her emergency fund after buying her house, so she has not had much spending money the past month.
My piece of advice to you is to enjoy your limousine, even when it is truly a bus. I am sure a lot of us have been beaten down by our current circumstances. The rainbow is forming, take the time to look for it.
Until next time,
Susanne
Please check out my GoFundMe page.