Well, that was fun....

Yesterday, while feeling particularly awful during this round, I started getting weird visual disturbances in my eyes. That went away, so I blew it off thinking I needed to eat. So, I went into the kitchen and almost fell to the floor. I realized that I could feel my leg. The sensation was quickly going up my body on the right side. I got to a phone and called Grant. I wasn't making sense and he called my oncologist. The nurse from the oncologist called me, talked to me for a minute and said, "Ang, hang up the phone and call 911. NOW." I wasn't really processing, so I hung up and thought, it will just pass. I wasn't going to call and then Africa appeared, knocked me in the head three times HARD, and pushed the phone toward me. Didn't I just post about that cat? I looked at her and she stared right back. I called and she was gone. I wasn't really explaining myself properly on the phone and could not get the words out. Finally, I got out that I was alone and the 911 guy said, "Angela, we are coming. Hold tight." I hung up the phone and they were here. The phone was ringing, they were saying things like, "...the chemo drugs she is on can cause stoke....what is her oxygen level...can you smile and me (is he kidding???)" All the sudden my Mom was there, Grant was on the way to the hospital, I was in my PJ's in the back of an ambulance, and I realized that the first thing you should do is brush your teeth in the morning just in case you have a stroke and can't do it before firemen show up. At least my PJ's matched, but I had on not so okay underwear. Let that be a lesson to you! By the time, I got to the hospital, I was known as my oncologist's favorite patient, I got a private room, they had all my information, and they were ready to do blood work, EKG, and MRI. I certainly appreciate the system. The blood work and EKG went fast and were normal. The MRI however took six hours to get into. They were a bit backed up. The good news is that I had a private room and, if you wait, that means you are probably okay. The MRI was awful. I hadn't eaten in 10 hours, not that I wasn't offered food, I was just not hungry and kept thinking, "Great, now it is in my brain." Funny when you JUST want to have Stage Four Rectal Cancer. Grant had gone home to get the kids and Mom stayed with me. My oncologist came into the room at 7:30pm (I got there at 12:30). He said with a smile, "You are fine. It was a migraine. Why have you been here all day?" And, then, I cried. I cried from relief, for feeling stupid, for hunger, for missing my boys before they went to bed, for not showering, for dirty teeth, but most of all because I was really happy I could go home and just had cancer on my plate. There is a day I choose not to repeat, but in the end it was fine and I came home to my shower, tooth brush, and instant breakfast, but those are just comforts. More importantly, I came home to my husband and two precious, very asleep, boys. Whew. Love, Ang