|My Sloan-Kettering peeps: Dr. Sauter's nurse, Heather,|
Dr. Moskowitz, me, and Dr. Sauter - the dream team.
I got the sign off by the medical, oncology and infectious disease teams that were overseeing my inpatient care and was sent home with instructions to call if chills and fevers again broke in. Despite trying to get out of my previously scheduled appointment, my doctors at Sloan really wanted to see me in New York City on Friday. I was desperately tired on Thursday after finally getting home and couldn’t even fathom a trip to the city, but they assured me that they could see me at whatever time I could get there. They are ultimately the ones who I’ll be working with to decide my next steps – and the ones who watch me so closely and frequently, so I knew that in the end it’d be worth the trek for them to inspect me and weigh in on what might be happening.
My parents took the day off of work and my dad drove us into the city so that I could catch up on all the lost sleep coming off of my hospital stay. I didn’t really sleep, though. I was more cranky and delusional, kind of like when I used to ride in the back seat as a toddler I imagine. We sat in a lot of traffic, which only made me angrier. But we got there, as we always do. I was too impatient to wait to park the car so jumped out on York Ave and made my way into the hospital and up to the physician suites grumbling.