Just wrapped up a 4C healthcare week, with none of the "C's" involving CoVid (or even corona virus).
C#1: Chemo - finished max bonus round six a bit over a week ago. Took me to about the expected level of not feeling well. Nine days later, I'm about back to my "in between" self. All in all, not worse, which is still a good thing.
C#2: Cat. The cat was not the healthcare per se, but caused the need for healthcare. We still sequester one cat a night in our room, because when they are together, Elsie attacks Leo and Leo freaks. Last Tuesday morning, with Elsie in house arrest, I get up at 6 like normal to cat screeching from both sides of the door, and slip out of our bedroom to feed them. Elsie raced past me and went straight after Leo. I gave chase, and they screamed and ran until they were fighting loudly under Abby's bed. This was about seven hours before Abby normally awakens, so I reached under her bed to grab one cat and re-separate. Elsie, who had heretofore shown no taste for human flesh, bit the living hell out of me. I squealed, the cats kept fighting, Leo freaked and pooped, and I started bleeding profusely. Somehow, Abby rolled over and went back to sleep. So no worries there. Jill cleaned me up and bandaged my SEVERAL puncture wounds. A bit later, fearing that I might be at higher risk for Cat Stevens Fever, I called my doctor just to check. The scheduler set me up with a tele-appointment that afternoon. It was a new doctor who was replacing the doctor I never see anyway (who apparently retired, sometime in the last, say five years maybe). New Dr. Replacement (I really have no idea his actual name) tele-met me and went over the situation. Dr. Replacement, to his credit, had read my file, and knew about the chemo. He told me that cats are, in fact, dirty, bacteria-infected monsters. He said there were several things that were risk factors for infection: 1) a deep bite. Check. 2) Close to a bone. Check. 3) on the hands or feet. Check. or 4) on the genitals. Um, not sure who spends a lot of time commando with their cats, but no check there. And to be clear, that would have been the end of Elsie. And Leo, just for good measure. But still, three out of four. So antibiotics it is! I asked Dr. Replacement:
"So, would it be your recommendation that we get rid of one or both of the cats?"
Dr. Replacement: "No, with the antibiotics, you should be fine."
Me: "But, to be safe, wouldn't you say, on the record, that we need to divest ourselves of cats?"
Dr. Replacement: "I wouldn't go that far."
Me: "How far would you go?"
Dr. Replacement: "I'll send over the prescription."
Me: "For something that humanely fixes our problem, especially if one of the little bastards tries to bite me on my genitals?"
Dr. Replacement: "For the antibiotic."
Fine.
C#3: Counseling. I gave up on Sanjeep. I called him about the cat trauma, and he tried to upsell me to psychiatric meds. I'm already taking Leo's cat prozac, which admittedly may be part of the problem. So I went back to the nice LCSW who I talked with months ago who does not take my insurance or anything like it. But I like her. She and I had one tele-therapy session, which was not great, so we decided to meet in the greenspace between the buildings at her office. It was BYO Chair. It worked well enough, but for the next visit I am bringing a blow-up couch.
I told my new outdoor therapist about my cat trauma. [the fact that she is helping me with cat trauma may be one reason Blue Cross Blue Shield did not empanel her, but that's just a guess].
I told her about how the cat problem was this close to being solved. When Alex goes back to Loyola, she is moving into an apartment. And wants to take Leo. Laissez le bon cat roulez! But that apartment fell through, and she got one that does not allow pets. I asked my outdoor therapist if she could write a letter attesting that Leo was Alex's comfort animal, or conversely that it would be a bad idea for me to have any cats. Not sure who I would give that to. Maybe Jill? And yes, this is certainly a bad use of my therapy time, but I am 100% out of pocket, so I can do what I want.
C#4: Crowns. Spent 4 hours on Thursday finishing up some dental work I started, I don't know, back in 2016 maybe? Getting into the dentist office was like accessing a speak-easy during Prohibition. Certainly I was grateful to the attention to safety. but I left really needing a drink. Maybe I'll bring that up with Sanjeep. They scheduled me for my final follow-up, and then tried to schedule a cleaning. Oh hell no. If I am going to live with Christopher Lloyd Back-to-the-Future Doc Hair to avoid needless human contact, certainly my teeth can go a bit longer in their dirty mode.
