One Week

Today is +7

Big day, calendar-wise. It has been a week since the transplant, but it wouldn't take much for someone to convince me that it has been a month, or a year, or a day. Seven days seems like a very long and/or short time. (Again, I know this makes no sense, just smile and nod as if you understand.)

I bought Pam an aerobics step, since she is confined to her room.  She was able to use it for six minutes this afternoon, which I thought was outstanding, considering her blood counts. 

She is using a little piece of sponge in her mouth to keep her tongue from rubbing against the inside of her teeth.  Still puking, fatigued, lethargic, etc, etc, etc, BUT no temperature and lungs remain clear.  She had a red cell transfusion yesterday.  Platelets are now VERY low, so she will get platelets tomorrow.

Cafeteria Ladies

Little piece of advice... when hanging around hospitals for ridiculous days on end, make nice with the little ladies who are cashiers at the hospital cafeteria. It is ridiculously easy and very entertaining. Here are some of my tested lines:

• "Are you still here?  Don't you get any time off?"
• "I swear  this is better food than El Gaucho, how do you do it?"
• "Do I get frequent flyer miles with this?"
• "Are these maple bars healthy?"

 Based on my scientific sample of two cashiers, the little Hispanic lady cashier at Good Sam and the little Asian lady cashier at OHSU, you will develop a warm relationship in about 2 weeks.  Here is how it works:

• After they have seen you every day for a week, curiosity sets in:  "Is everything going OK?" means "Wow, you have been coming in here for a long time, what the hell is going on?"  Play coy at this point, and just say "Everything is great, thanks!"
• After 2 weeks, they really can't stand it: "Is your wife in the hospital?" See, they can't really ask you why the hell you are eating in the cafeteria every day, but they are a little more curious now and are beginning to become a little sympathetic. They don't know if it is your wife or your kid, but they know that you are there because there is something serious going on.  It drives them crazy.  Respond with "My sweetie has been really sick, but it is getting better. We are so lucky." (They love the optimistic ending.)
• In 3 weeks, they will ask more questions trying to figure out why you are still there. You are golden at this point. They begin to think you are some sort of saint.  Start laying it on as thick as you can stomach it yourself:  "It has been pretty rough, my sweetheart has been in ICU for 5 days" or "My sweetie is here for a stem cell transplant" or "it was touch and go, but we made it!" You get the idea. 

Now, VERY IMPORTANT... do not say "my wife" even if you are married. You see, "my sweetheart" just adds to the intrigue, and paints you as being a sensitive, caring man.  And, as a bonus, the Cafeteria Lady doesn't know if you are married, or you are referring to your gay lover.

If you follow these steps exactly as I have outlined above, the Cafeteria Lady will absolutely beam as you approach the cash register.  It is fantastic.

Word of warning:  None of this will work if you are a jerk in any way.  Cafeteria Ladies can sniff out a jerk two steam tables away. I have seen it.

The Payoff

I am proud to say that following my tested techniques previously at Good Sam and yesterday at OHSU, I have gotten coffee from two different Cafeteria Ladies "on the house" . Twice.  Without asking. Two different hospitals and very unofficial. With a wink. Awesome. Huge. Fun. Victory.

Saving all of my humorous anecdotes for later... as soon as I think of some.