I'm actually writing this a day late because around 8 pm last night I started getting a headache and tried to relax it away, but couldn't. And by the time I tried to get something for it, they had to call the doctors and discuss what I could be given in terms of pain relief that wouldn't mess with my chemo, and it took two hours for them to decide that a dose of Tylenol would be ok. By that time it'd moved into migrane-zone, somewhere that I'd been able to avoid since before I got sick, and it meant that it had become one of those headaches where my body decides that whatever I ate for my last meal was the issue and I had to throw up.
Which caused all sorts of issues because the nurses were all like "oh, you're nauseous, we need to give you some drugs to stop that since it's obviously from the chemo!" No, it's because it takes you two hours to give someone Tylenol, but whatever.
The pediatric activities coordinator lady doesn't know what to do with me. She keeps coming by to ask if I want any games or movies, or bringing me art projects to do. I think the fact that I told her I was technically "at work" and working from the hospital threw her. Possibly because I'm the only patient in pediatrics that has a job at all, much less a job that they're actively performing. Patrick and I are pretty technologically savvy, and we've got netflix running on his tablet and the iPad I got from work, I've got my netbook for work and for Examiner/CBS writing, and lots of other various things and gadgets to occupy me.
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