I'm finally back on Pamidronate again; you might remember that I'd gone off of it while we figured out what was going on with my teeth. We now know that my teeth are fine - the problem was that the root of the tooth rested against the floor of the sinus cavity and I had a chronic sinus infection. So the sinus was inflamed and made the tooth hurt, and when the tooth was re-filled my face hurt. Antibiotics and a new filling that didn't extend as far out of the tooth took care of those problems.
I was lucky and thrilled to end up with such an awesome outcome. I could have ended up with a root canal or tooth extraction, and it was in anticipation of those possible outcomes that I went off the Pamidronate. Now that the tooth problem is all wrapped up I can go back on the Pamidronate - yay! It is part of my treatment, after all.
I was pretty stressed this afternoon before I received the Pamidronate - more so than I expected or would normally have been. My nurse was running super-late and I was nervous because the last time I was there, I ended up waiting forever because of a mis-communication between the front desk and the nurse. I asked the front desk twice (15- and 30-minutes after my scheduled appointment time) to check with the nurse, explaining that I was worried that the Pamidronate wouldn't happen on schedule and that it would interfere with their schedules. That's happened before as well.
Now, all of that is really no big deal but I found myself almost in tears because of all this; my eyes got all puffy and I was starting to shake. I ended up doing some breathing exercises and meditation so that I didn't freak out by crying or getting mad at anyone, and it worked. Even though I talked to the front desk twice (and explained to the nurse about why I'd done that), I didn't get mad or angry or say nasty things. I was quite proud of myself for using my meditation techniques to calm myself down and behave.
I'm pretty sure I was stressed because of these anniversary dates. This time last year is blurry; all I remember were trips to and from the hospital to see my dad. I know that we'd been called to come in on the Tuesday morning because my dad had another heart attack early that morning. My one sister and her family drove up from where they were living and she and I spent Tuesday night sleeping in the hospital, waking up every few hours to go and see him. I don't remember each visit - I just remember being scared.