Today I had my first Herceptin infusion back at the SCCA. It was slightly more involved than previous times, because of the oxygen and the slowly growing strength. Mom took me and we went first to the patient load/unload zone and she unloaded me and my portable oxygen from the car into a wheelchair. Since we were a little late already, getting out of the house being slightly more involved as well, she took me straight upstairs (leaving her car in the load zone!) where they got me in immediately (is this a new trend? Because I like it much better than sitting in the waiting room for 30 minutes . . . ) to a bed where, just like in the hospital, there was oxygen conveniently coming out of the wall. Mom then went off to move her car.
I fell asleep soon after getting hooked up, ignoring the newspaper, ignoring my new Paul Theroux book, ignoring even my quad grande decaf latte. I slept hard, and until the strident alarm-clock beeping of the finished infuser rudely woke me up.
Back at home, I lay on my bed and read for a short time then had lunch. I don't think I slept before lunch. After lunch, however, I went immediately back to bed and I slept for most of the afternoon, until almost 6:30pm.
Since living in the city I've noticed a strange dichotomy in myself about sleeping. In the middle of the afternoon, I have no trouble sleeping through daytime noise, even with the windows open. For some reason, I seem to fundamentally understand that daytimes are noisy. In my world, however, nighttimes are not noisy, and I can't tolerate noise when I'm trying to sleep at night at all. The exception is when I'm in New York City, which evidently falls into the same category as "daytime", because I can sleep through sirens there.
Today tested even my daytime tolerance though, at least potentially, but I slept like a trouper through it all: the housekeepers vacuuming--I fell asleep while they were still in my bedroom, trying their best to make the Dyson quiet--and I continued to sleep even while the roofer power-nailed roofing tiles right above my head. I'm not kidding. I woke up once to go to the bathroom, and he was right above my head when I returned to bed, and gone home when I woke up the next time. I had some—not just one—dreams about Liv Tyler and me making pizza.
I believe it's the first time I've slept—really slept—in a month.