Returning to Real Life

Deborah pointed out that I haven’t posted in weeks and that all that is really required is a paragraph. I got the job that I wrote about in the last posting. I went and taught a class there and had a great time doing it. There were 53 men in the class, so it was a much larger class than I had anticipated. However, I am enough of a ham to enjoy getting up in front of a bunch of people, especially since I was armed with a good curriculum. It was a lively session with lots of participation from the men. I got lots of good feedback afterwards.

I also sat in on a process group. It sort of ran itself. It was a small group, only four men, but I was impressed with the two that had been in treatment the longest. They obviously had learned a lot from the program. I was grateful to have had some grounding in Dialectical Behavioral Therapy since that is the basis of the program there.

Lots of people, staff and residents alike, said that they hoped that I would take the job. Once I got the formal offer, I took a day or two to really think it over, but the more that I thought it through, the more I realized that this was the right job for me. I called them last Thursday and let them know I’d take the job. The HR person said that what I needed to do next was to take a drug test in the next 24 hours. Piece of cake, I thought.

That afternoon I went in for a routine mammogram, only these days no mammogram is routine for me. After the first mammogram, they brought me back into the room for another series of mammograms, and then back again for more and it looked like the news wasn’t good. I’m not a radiologist, but even I could see that there was a problem on the mammogram. The radiologist wanted to do an ultrasound, but it was the end of the day and everyone was in the process of leaving, so she asked me to make an appointment for the next day. I went to the front desk and asked for an appointment but they had shut down their computers for the day. The receptionist gave me a number for “the scheduler” which I called. The scheduler said that the next appointment would be for the 13th of November, or 12 days hence. I was not happy at the prospect of waiting 12 days in fear of what might be another tumor percolating in my remaining breast. I put down the phone, went to the receptionist’s desk and in a steely voice said, “This is not acceptable. I need to be seen tomorrow. Please find a way to fit me in.” I probably looked dangerous, as if I were ready to dismantle the reception desk, because one of the doctors came out and said he would personally do the ultrasound and asked me when I could make it. I said first thing in the morning.

I decided not to fret all night and actually had a decent night’s sleep. I printed out the form for the drug test before I went to bed so that I could take it on my way back from the hospital. The ultrasound went well. The suspicious area turned out to be a cyst, which is a good thing, or at least nothing to worry about. They gave me a small glass of orange juice when I was done. I got in my car and drove over to get the UA for the drug test. However, I didn’t have the form with me for some reason, so I drove home. And I needed to take my vitamins since it was getting late. I had to get to a class, so I ran to the drug test place with a new form, peed in a cup and then ran to my class.

Monday I got a call that my drug test was invalid because it was too dilute. I had failed the drug test. It was pretty ridiculous, me, failing a drug test.

I had to go in for a new one in the next 24 hours. If this one was too dilute as well I wouldn’t get the job. Jeez Loueez. I spent the rest of the day not eating or drinking. By the time I had the next test, my pee was opaque.
It gave me a little more compassion for what my clients must go through with their drug tests, especially if a small glass of orange juice can through off the results like that. That was pretty ridiculous. At the time of the test I was asked if I had eaten anything with poppy seeds and I said no. The next morning I was making myself a piece of toast, as I had done the day before, with sprouted wheat seed bread. Hmm, seed bread. I looked at the ingredients and, sure enough, there were poppy seeds. I called the drug screen lab in a panic to let them know that I had eaten poppy seeds recently, the morning of the test. I mean, how sensitive are these tests? The person at the lab noted my poppy seed consumption in the chart.

Later in the day, when I was back at OHSU, but this time with Stephen who I drove to physical therapy, I got a call for HR. The drug screen was fine; could I start work on Monday? I was relieved. It would have been such a bummer to fail the drug test, especially since I don’t take drugs.

So, now I’m organizing my closets and drawers, trying to get myself ready to dive into a full time job. Actually, for the first month I will be working 32 hours per week. And I will have to take time off the first week of December for surgery. It’s the final piece of breast reconstruction, putting on the nipple. That will be my last surgery, so it will be a milestone for me.

I’m putting my life back together after one hell of a year. This time last year I was gearing for chemo. Now I feel like I'm done with cancer. It’s time to get on with my life.