*Updated* There Has To Be a Sitcom In Here Somewhere

Great things to update:

1. The initiation transfer was finalized with the new medical team today! Hooray! I see them on Tuesday of next week (3 hours in, 3 hours there, 3 hours back) but that's fine. They have taken over immediate jurisdiction of my supplies, so I can get the stuff I needed right away. This eliminates the issue of the current team here not approving those supplies for "business" reasons.

2. Although I won't see the actual Dr. until May, we will still do blood draws et al next week to make sure all is still stable. The fatigue and malaise do not appear to be related to the anemia, as my count was actually up to 10.4 (not quite 11, but better than 9.2 on the 19th). So, we are all just watching things for now and see how it plays out. Somehow, just knowing I have a responsive team behind me is doing wonders in itself for my mood.

3. We have learned how truly spoiled we were in Billings with being "in town" to the full hospital. We are now considered "rural clinic" based due to the initial choice to team with the local Dr. here (big, BIG mistake) - so being tied to another hospital based team will certainly have it's pluses ... even if we have to drive in. I always knew that my MT team covered all of Montana, Wyoming and South Dakota but never realized all those people had to drive in monthly for care. Now, I realize why it's worth the drive.

Things are swinging back to the better.

As always, though -

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot,

Thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blessed assurance control,

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,

And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,

Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,

It is well, with my soul,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let me preface this by saying, there is now another place on my list of "Places I Will Never Step Foot In". And that place? Our local Emergency Room.

See, we live in a Party Resort destination. We are currently enduring, er- enjoying, seven straight weeks of Spring Break heaven. Right here in our front yard. That should have given us some clue when packing up to the head to the ER On a Saturday night.

I normally dialize from 10pm - 10am, so at 8pm when we walked out the door I knew I had to be home by 2am. That's the longest I can carry my dialysis fluid in me at one time. So, off we went.

When I checked in (after waiting 20 minutes for someone to come off break to check us in), I let her know the situation. No problem!!

We had a seat, and got comfy. And then started the show.

Ladies and Gentleman, It's Saturday Niiiiight!

The first act of the evening was a group of, well, influenced teenagers who brought in a buddy with a bum ankle. Loud, swearing, er .. under-dressed even for our warm weather and rambunctious. We endured anatomy lessons from ill-fitting tops and short shorts (even on the matriach of the group who looked to be around 60) and wheelchair races in the lobby.

For.four.long.hours.

Finally, their friend came back with a splint and a pain killer- feeling better than when he came in. And we knew it all the way through the building and the parking lot.

Then, came "The Damsel in Distress" complete with one high heel shoe, and an ace bandage on the other ankle. Her knight carried her into the waiting room, the injured leg daintely lifted straight up, perfectly manicured toes pointed daintely. She mumbled something about falling over a beer bottle and her prince took of, once she was settled in a wheelchair. Throughout the next two hours we watched her charm various men in the waiting room to push her wheelchair to the Vending Area for sodas.

The rest was a mixture of the normal party injuries- wrists, ankles etc.

After 6 1/2 hours, I got called back to Triage, then moved to a room. Where I sat. And sat. And caught up on anything People or Entertainment Weekly related published in the last 8 months or so.

Two hours later? Nothing.

At this point, I was overdue to drain and dialize so we checked wit hthe nurse to get an ETA on the Dr. , Physicians Assistant or frnakly the Janitor coming in to say Hi.

Two.hours.

At least.

So, we chose to go home. I figured not dialyzing was worse than whatever is wrong with me- fever and all. We thought about going back today, and decided to wait.

The Dr. currently on call for my care doesn't take calls after hours. Really, he doesn't. According to the service and the nurse? If she can't help me, it's off to the ER.

The plan now? Hope like crazy the paperwork for my transfer to the new group goes through fast, and then drive 3 hours to see them this week. At worst, I think they would admit me for iron IV's. Since I have lost total faith in the medical community in our area, it's a gamble I'm willing to take.

I'm just thankful it's me that needed help and not one of the kids. That would have been a whole different kind of post.