 ©1999-1999 ICFTP What're you, kidding? |
4 June 1999: Transplant Day
WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!
I've spent two weeks of almost total peace, concetrating on getting myself through the chemo, through this process. It's gone more smoothly than I would have thought possible. I've been surrounded by professionals, people who's prime concern has been my comfort and my health and taking care of me, and who are GOOD at it. The people of the UAB Med Center Bone Marrow Transplant Unit are some of the greatest folks I've ever met. They have taken GREAT care of me.
These OTHER fucks, on the other hand...
What the HELL??!?!?
Ok, today's my transplant day. Big fucking deal. I'm going to get what amounts to a blood transfusion. It will probably take about an hour, an hour and a half. After that, I'm still gonna be here for a couple of weeks at least. I'm only midway through the very beginning.
EVERYBODY IS FREAKING OUT TODAY AND I DO NOT NEED THIS.
I'm calm. I'm cool. Or I was. I feel the same way I have for weeks. At least I did last night.
Why the hell did Tanya freak out and get all insecure this morning, mutter something about how she "knows she's not the center of my universe...", hang her head and slink away? What, because there are other people besides you here, suddenly you're worthless? WHAT? Where the FUCK did that come from?
Why can't my mother just simply act decently towards me? My dad managed it just fine! I thought mom was gonna be alright with this. We've HAD the talks. We've confronted the issues. She's had time to get herself in some kind of order. She's made the effort. It's gonna be alright when she gets here, right? WRONG. She left my room crying after asking my PERMISSION to go back to the hotel and change clothes. She's fifty-fucking-two years old! I do NOT think she needs the permission of her 28 year old son to change her clothes no matter WHERE I am. She was alternately smothering me and acting as if I would break if she came within five feet of me. And if I hear someone say "She's your mother, it's understandable" one more time I will fucking scream. It is NOT understandable, and it is NOT acceptable. I am SICK of it. Have some fucking backbone! Where did hers GO?!?!?! She's been an amazingly strong woman all my life! Sometimes bordering on a hard-ass. What's different now?
Why is everyone amazed that I can DEAL with my situation? What is the big fucking deal? We are doing everything we CAN to beat this thing, and it's going great! CALM THE FUCK DOWN!
Ok, ya'll ready for this? Oooooh, this one gets me riled.
When I was first admitted, I got a visit from a lady that lives in Mobile whose husband is in the outpatient part of this process. He's not doing too well. He's had a rough time of it. I'm sorry. She told me ALL about it, much as I would have rather have not heard the details of his pain, especially as it's something that I myself might have to go through. But hey, I listened, she was just trying to be nice, be friendly.
Well she kept showing up, doing the same thing. She was constantly amazed at how well I was doing. Yet instead of being happy about it, she felt she HAD to remind me that it's gonna get worse! That HER husband had a HORRIBLE time of it.
They call transplant day your birthday here. So she brought me a balloon this morning. When she walked in, I was only semi-sorta glad to see her, frankly. I was already stressing because my mom had left the room crying not too long ago. There were too many people in my room. I had a million people beeping me on IM, and people who are actually here tend to feel like you're being rude to them if you talk on IM while they're in the room. But the people on IM, with whom I've been faithfully corresponding, don't understand why it's taking me so long to respond. Anyway - so this woman walks in and stops in her tracks, eyes wide, and says "Wow, you look great! You must be doing really well!" And I said yeah, I felt good, and this dumb cunt proceeds to say "Well, you may feel good now, but just wait until after your transplant" with this simpering little smile on her overly made-up face.
WHAT?!?!?!!?!?!? Oh, THAT'S just what I want to hear!!! Excuse me, you bitch, but I am quite aware of how well (or not) I'm doing and what I can expect, and I do not need your uneducated comments on MY condition. Bitch. Scabrous cunt.
She had by this time walked over, handed ne the balloon, and put her hands on my back. I shrugged her off and brushed her hands away and told her "Look lady, STEP OFF. I am sick and tired of hearing this kind of crap from you" or something to that effect. There were lots of people in the room, and it actually took a minute for her to register that I was PISSED. Then she got all embrassed and backed away, while I just kept repeating "Step OFF, get out of my room" until she left. I was shaking with anger. I got the nurse to put a sign on the door that says "No visitors at patient's request, please check in with doctor" and now I am finally getting some peace. At least the BMT people understand. Hell, they're great, it's just the people who are supposed to be here for support that are fucking me up.
Why is it that I'm calm and cool during this, and everyone ELSE is freaking out? I'M the one with the fucking disease! You guys chill! Chill, motherfuckers, CHILL!! What, does it bother you that you can't do anything? You're not doctors! Are you so fucking arrogant to think you can be doing something they're not, except offer calm care and support? DEAL with it! I AM!
I don't get it, ya'll!
The online community has been great to me. Without ya'll I would've been stir-crazy in this room, and instead I've been surrounded by love, uncomplicated and undemanding. It has made me smile even when I felt like total shit. Now, why would strangers give me surcrease from this pain and my own mother and people from my "real life" cause me more anxiety than I've felt in weeks?
I don't know, but I don't like it. So everyone can just stay the fuck out of my room until this is over. 'Cept ya'll out there in the online world, you guys've been cool. Thanks.
Grrrrrrrrr.