Monday morning it all hit me like a ton of bricks.
I recognized I was having a slight panic attack.
That's the odd thing about being a nurse. You see the symptoms. You recognize them. You know what you should be doing.....but then you don't.
I had to force myself to phone up my MD to have her slip me in first thing in the am. One hour from my phonecall I was in her office, blubbering away.
I told her I was feeling out of control and wasn't coping.
This MD is a wonderful caring woman. She actually was the sub-in doc while mine was on vacation. If I wasn't so distraught, her Caribbean accent would have mesmerized me.
She sat and listened and then offered suggestions, stated she couldn't make any promises that everything was going to be fine, but assured me that everything was being done, that could, right now....and I should concentrate on that. She had already faxed the path report to the dermatologist at the Cancer Clinic and also the Plastic surgeon, but she made a point of phoning his office again while I sat there to ensure an appointment for this week.
She suggested taking a couple weeks off work and gave me some zopiclone 7.5mg - and told me to take 1/2 at bedtime as needed.
I told her I was going to take one as soon as I got home.
By the time I filled my RX and picked up some food at the butcher/deli so I didn't have to bother cooking.... there was a message waiting for me on my answering service.
I have an appointment to see the Plastic Surgeon this coming Thursday. Two days from now.
Nurse habits die hard, and I have created a binder with all my bloodwork, path report, melanoma information/charts, mileage tracking (tax deductible), Proof of illness forms for work and a whole list of questions for the doc. If nothing else, I will be very organized.
Meanwhile, I am talking with my girlfriends and getting lots of support.
Of course, the zopiclone helps.
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