WHAT AN ANTICLIMAX, HOORAY!

This is a poster on a street that I passed returning from the doctor's office one day. 


I had the first RAI infusion yesterday, really no big deal. Really. After I slept off the Benadryl I felt fine, not an ache, no chills and no visible glow. No super powers either I'm afraid. 


I walked over to the hospital through a light drizzle which at 8 AM sends the city into a frenzy, hands out up and down the streets flagging taxis, a tangle of umbrellas and people (especially the unwise in fancy shoes) facing hurdles of puddles at every corner. I enjoyed my stroll along Central Park in borrowed boots, no makeup, no medal on my person readying myself for this event and then...


The usual long wait in the lounge while they found my paperwork and processed it, then put an ID bracelet on me, another wait while the lab "prepared" and then I was in a room so small the lazyboy chair and a rolling tray with the wires and hookups to a monitor barely fit inside. A pretty poster of a park scene was on one wall- I straightened it. A prettier nurse, Aeesha, hooked me all up and began the first "cold" infusion of the protein, gave me my tylenol and benadryl and, honestly, after that they could have taken a kidney and I wouldn't have known.


I woke for the second "hot" infusion as they tried to wheel in the lead shield. Okay now, this looks a little more serious I thought.  Aeesha had to suck in and squirm past the shield to prep for the next infusion which was administered by Dr. Goldsmith who pushed before him a cart with a lead box on it, special tubing and a geiger counter. He said it was all "overkill", my concern for Aeesha and the staff was sweet but unnecessary (they wear a button  monitor that checks their exposure weekly) and in fact the needle on the geiger counter never even twitched. The "hot" stuff was in me in less than half an hour. The next infusion will be longer and more potent after they study the effects of this one and make their calculations for my customized dosage.


Then I waited an hour for a nuclear scan which was the worst part (I kept my eyes closed): I was strapped into a machine that rises to meet cylindrical cameras at the top and another camera cylinder rises to take pictures below and they are very, very close, brushing my fingers and my nose. But it was all over in 15 minutes and I was sent on my way. Me, this threat to the public, unloosed just like that. No awe, no fear, no respect, some threat.


I think it's false advertising, a very zealous team of lawyers and FDA agents must have written the Bexxar protocol. 


I am quite well, I'm happy to report. I'm sure that the lucky talismans (a mermaid, humming birds, my wedding band and my "love" shoes) I carried with me and everyone's healing wishes are responsible. Thank you all.


I watched TV and didn't have the focus for much else yesterday. I had a hearty soup, glass of wine and ice cream and I slept soundly. It's a beautiful day outside, the sun is shining and I shall plan a walk through the park at some point, otherwise a quiet day with a book and a downloaded movie. 


I get another nuclear scan tomorrow at 11:00, again on Monday and on Wednesday they give me the next and final infusion. 3 days later I am free to resume a normal, public life and it's just in time as the family congregates for Christmas in NYC and we need to decorate, sing, eat drink and be merry.