The Meltdown Report

Well, my meltdown is now entering its fifth day, with a faint hope of clearing on the distant horizon.

It would help if I could breathe, but the combination of shortness of breath caused by my anemia PLUS bronchitis has me gasping for air. The pits. Can't even walk my dog.

Went to my doctor's clinic yesterday, although she wasn't there, and had a chest X-ray (to check for barely imaginable horrors, like a tumor in my lung) and then got a prescription for antibiotics.

Started those right away when I got home, and then whiled away the rest of a truly gorgeous afternoon cuddled in the backseat of my Corvair (1964, red, convertible. Yes, I know.) in the backyard with the top down to enjoy the sun and the doors open to enjoy the company of my dogs.

For my comfort, I equipped myself with two pillows, a book (Elizabeth George), a bottle of vitamin water (the kind with electrolytes that promises to make me PERFORM. Ha), and a pint of tapioca pudding.

I ate ALL of the pudding, thank you very much, except for the bites the dogs got, and made serious inroads into the book, all the while throwing tennis balls for Constant with my feet. Connie, like so many Lab mixes, seriously loves tennis balls. More than he loves me, perhaps. I think he sees me as an arm to throw those tennis balls, and a source of food.

Connie kept bringing the balls and dropping them on the floor of the backseat.

I stayed outside till after 7, then left the backseat while I still could.

The Whys and Wherefores of Meltdowns
A good meltdown doesn't really need a REASON. Of course, if you have cancer, and a life, there are always good reasons for a meltdown. But although they can be set off by an event, as mine was, they can also come out of nowhere.

Mine was set off by unresolved problems with the treatment room at my cancer center. Plus, a nurse who didn't wash her hands while going back and forth between me and another patient.

Plus another nurse who made totally off-the-wall comments to me about melanoma. Such as, "I'd rather have breast cancer than melanoma." (I have both, does she think I had a CHOICE?) And also, "Have you had PETs and MRIs to check for ..." I was feeling OK about the status and prognosis of my melanoma until this unwanted conversation.

Add to this, the second cancer, melanoma, on top of my metastatic breast cancer. A son who no longer lives with me (See Stepmom), and pending legal wrangles with his father. Anemia (Hematocrit of 27 and falling, last time we checked). And then getting sick with a cold that turned into bronchitis.

I'd say I was ripe for a meltdown.

The irony here is that I was planning, and still am planning, to write a post on meltdowns for my friend Beth, recently diagnosed with breast cancer. (I wrote the Bald posts for Beth.) Instead of me providing insight into this new world of cancer, Beth has been supporting me through this meltdown via e-mail during the past couple of days.

Thanks, Beth.

Still to come: Meltdowns I Have Known

Medical Note: Yes, I am going to see one of my two therapists today. (I have a spare, like the royal family of Britain. The heir and the spare. I am NOT, however, planning to send my spare to Iraq, like poor Prince Harry.)

Second Medical Note: This column is not medical advice. Consult your own doctor, and I hope you have an empathetic one, like Dr. L, to see you through the tough times.

@ Jeanne Sather 2007.

Comments

[jessica]

i don't know if i should cry or spit, jeanne. let me have a piece of the nurse lacking in a sense of humanity. she really said that to you? she couldn't possibly think that's appropriate. could she? i can't get my mouth to shut. i'm just stunned. i'm so sorry you were subjected to such insensitivity. in the grocery store would be one thing, although still certainly not admissible. but from an actual nurse at the cancer center? i just...wow. i'm so sorry. so, so sorry. if i could, i'd be right over with a homemade, iron-rich meal for you and a gentle word or two for nurse Ratched.

[jeanne]

Oh, yeah, she said all of this and more. Her sister apparently has melanoma and is not doing well, so she's upset about that.

But even so, do I need to know that? To bring that to work with her is so not OK.

If--and this is a big if--I continue to get treatment at this cancer center, I will just put that iPod in my ears and never take it out, even when people are talking to me.

I'm strategizing about how to sort this out with one of my therapists. So updates to come.

Jeanne

[Beryl]

Why don't you direct the nurse and her supervisor to this part of your blog?