I blame my endocrinologist, the sadist, and his treatment plan for my upcoming RAI scan and dose which will take place this week. Here's a brief run-down of events to come:
- Monday: Leave work around 1pm to go to the sadist's office, get labwork drawn to confirm wacked out hormone levels, receive Iodide test dose. Return to work, but avoid the pregnant lady in reception.
- Tuesday: Continue to work, avoiding pregnant lady.
- Wednesday: Leave work around 1pm to go to the sadist's office, get scanned to determine the (real McCoy) Iodide ablation dose. Hope they have the dose on site. Receive dose, if appropriate, and return to prison, the pimped-out second bedroom home.
- Lay-low and entertain myself for the next several days. Take lots of showers. Drink lots of water. Suck on lots of sour candies. Talk to The Hater either on cell phones or through closed doors. Listen to Zoloft cry and watch her paw under said door. Feel generally cruddy and nauseated. Think about the long lists of to-dos that I've created in my head for being in seclusion; maybe do two of the things on the list. Dream crazy dreams.
- Dose-dependant: Getting out of prison. Returning to a normal diet (Joy!). Restarting thyroid hormone supplementation (Yay!).
- clean, clean, clean, super clean
- grocery shopping: then make some things to freeze for the week
- pimp the prison
- make sure all supplies needed for my to-do projects are inside
- love on the cat
- watch football
What's a girl to do when she can't sleep on Saturday morning? Wake up the cat, of course, and insist that we play. We did. Then I opened the laptop, and she's been sleeping next to me for the last 3 hours as I renewed my Chemotherapy/Biotherapy Administration certification online. They say I will receive my new card in the mail within 6-8 weeks. Ta-da, I have taken one of my to-dos off of my list. It wasn't the timing for which I'd hoped, but it's done, and that's really what matters.
The cat and I are now trying to decide exactly how long we should let The Hater sleep before we insist that he joins in our fun. I'm inclined to wake him now so that he can be my awake friend and help me print off the temporary certificate, but I'll probably give him the one thing I can't give myself until the sadist fixes my hormones: the gift of reclaiming Saturday morning in the name of sweet delta waves.