Before Dr. Van Veldhuizen prescribed yet another pill, this time a thyroid supplement, I had already been thinking about writing on the ambivalent feelings I (and I assume lots of people who take many medications) have with their pills--something like Patience/Patients and the Pill.  My routine looked like this: every morning 10 or 11 pills (there's one extra on Sundays), followed by an hour wait before I can eat anything and my daily shot in the stomach; two pills at lunch; four pills at 6:30; one last one before bed.  On the one hand, I trust that Dr. Van knows what he's doing, and certainly, given the initial prognosis, the pills are doing their job.  Still, there are mornings when I don't think I can face laying out the pills.  At this point, I hardly know or care which is which; I take them from the bottles in a certain, arbitrary order.  I take the biggest pill first, then the chemo, and then I just shove them in my mouth and gulp them down, two by two, with swallows of OJ.  And sometimes I just feel sheer frustration: what's wrong with my body anyway that it can't do its job and take care of itself on its own without needing calcium supplements, massive dosages of Vitamin D, extra iron.  And now a thyroid supplement.  Some mornings I want to skip the whole thing and just let my body have its will.  Patience and prudence (a good title for a British novel?) prevail.

The new pill has created a new schedule.  I have to take the thyroid medication first thing in the morning before I've eaten anything.  Now I have to wait an additional thirty minutes to an hour before taking any other meds or eating anything.  So this morning I waited 45 minutes and then laid out and gulped down the next ten pills.  Now I'm waiting an hour after the chemo before eating.  It's a pain.  In the meantime, Mohamed has given me my shot.  That's also a routine.  He tries to find a place on my middle that isn't too bruised or knotted, swabs it with alcohol, and says every morning, "This is going to hurt.  I'm sorry, sweetie."  Luckily, he does the injection smoothly and it almost never hurts.  I say, "Thank you, baby," and the day can begin.

Although everything went well at the consultation with Dr. Van on Friday, there was one exchange that was a bit disconcerting.  If I have a question or problem, I e-mail Dr. Van, and he always responds within 24 hours.  As I did with my students, I find this system a much more efficient method than playing phone tag, and I can cc Jennifer, the physician assistant, so she gets the info at the same time.  Dr. Van explains things thoroughly at consultations and will sometimes give his opinion twice--once to me and once to Mohamed.  But at the end of Friday's consultation, he said three separate times, "Now if anything happens or you have any problems, feel free to call me immediately.  You can e-mail but you can also call me directly."  Neither of us said anything at the time, but he was so insistent that in retrospect it sounded almost as if he expected something to happen.

All is going well, however.  I've taken all my pills, had my shot, and waited what  now is at least 90 minutes before the next step: eating breakfast.  Sounds good to me and my growling stomach.