Dr. Oncologist's nurse just called. Pick line will be placed in my arm today. This is an extra long catheter that gets threaded through a vein, all the way up my arm. They are doing this instead of a port (for now) because I am on blood thinners for my jugular clot. Perhaps in a few weeks, once the clot is gone, I will stop blood thinners and then we can put a port in.
My oldest daughter and I woke up with fevers. Because of this, Dr. Oncologist wants me to take antibiotics to prevent a secondary bacterial infection. I HATE the principle of prophylactic antibiotics, but I suppose if ever there was a person who needed them it's the person who's about to start chemotherapy. She said that we will start chemotherapy tomorrow. That said, the "chemo on Friday" conversation occurred before the pick line conversation, so it's entirely possible that with the pick line in today I could start chemo today. I have no idea. They've been calling every 20 minutes with updates.
Also because of the fevers, Dr. Oncologist wants me to take the girls to see a pediatrician. Their symptoms are not the type that would normally inspire a doctor's visit, but again because of my impending immunocompromised state she wants me to make sure that the kids aren't sicker than they appear.
I've already called in the troops. My dad and my mother-in-law are both on their way over. She will take the kids to their appointment, he will come with me to mine. Normal things that are supposed to also happen today is kindergarten registration for my youngest, and gymnastics for both girls. Ian will rock out the normal things.
This is really happening.