They put me in the room with the hood again.

"Is this room okay?  Some people get a little anxious in here, but it's mostly just used for storage," says the helpful nurse.

Yeah, yeah, whatever.  I'm sure all the biohazard signs and the medical hood put everyone at ease.  Seriously, I don't care.  It was a fun picture op once I got bored of WAITING.  I did chat with my doc, who seems concerned about my rectal wound.  Apparently the Avastin could cause the wound to open more, and then he would want to stop chemo until it heals.  I explained that it has never been healed.  He said we'll wait and see what happens.  I asked again for a referral to a wound care nurse (and an ostomy nurse) because I think whatever the wound care nurse has to say might put the doc's mind at ease.  At this point, I really doubt that this bugger is healing.

Then I waited and waited for the doc's nurse.  At one point I opened the exam room door because I was kind of lonely.  The doc breezed by, then poked his head in and asked if his nurse had been by.  No, no, she hadn't, which is why I'm still here.

I talked to the nurse who said she would get the social worker to help me with the whole wound care thing.  Waiting, waiting...and please note that I really had to pee because usually the lab wants a urine sample so I chugged a cup of coffee, and well, you know.  I snuck out to the bathroom, and while I was in there, I heard voices looking for me.  A woman was hovering around Exam Room 2 and I said cheerfully, "That's me!"

We talked about what my needs are (wound care nurse/ostomy nurse).  She also had information about a support group for the kids.  I'll check it out, but I'm kind of sad that the name had "cancer" in it.  It's called Cancer Support Community.  What, that's the best name they could come up with?  Anyhoo, I'll look it up and see if it's something we can use. 

Then I headed to the chemo lounge.  That whole experience was pretty uneventful.  I asked for the ativan to help me calm down.  No problem there, and I was able to relax and take a nap. 

At pump connect time, the nurse handed me the bottom part of a pump and a bag with chemo liquid in it.  "What's the deal with this?" I asked.  "Oh, your dose is too big for the canister, so we use this bag."

Oh really?  I then asked how I get a real pump, and the nurse admitted that about 1 in 5 patients get this set up.  I eyed the bag and asked how strong it was.  He goes, "Oh it's pretty strong."  I was exhausted and not thinking, but later I thought that this set up is probably not the best for a mama with two active kids.  No, we haven't had issues with the pump or the tubing, I'm careful.  But I'd feel a lot better with a pump where the chemo liquid is safely in a canister and not in a bag.  I'll be hassling someone about this.

Cold sensitivity started right away.  Blah.  I know it could be worse.

I'm tired, but these kids need to get out of the house.  We're headed to the library so I can sit down and they can do kid things.  I'm hoping that new books will keep them busy this afternoon.

Prayers and positive thoughts gladly accepted!