Good News on the Remicade Front
Whatever brought on this morning’s thick dream, it was not yesterday’s good news. In the late afternoon, I walked down the the Hospital for Special Surgery to see Dr Steven K Magid, rheumatologist to the stars but also to me, so that he could examine the surgical incisions (the operation was a month ago today) to make sure that they were completely “closed up.” Only then might I schedule my next Remicade infusioin. The odd thing about Remicade, sort of, is that you have to be in perfect health to absorb it – perfect, that is, except for the condition that sent you to the Infusion Therapy Unit in the first place.
Dr Magid pronounced the wound “beautiful,” a word that Kathleen has also used when changing bandages. (We’ve done without the bandages for about a week, but when she took a look on Wednesday and repeated herself, I got on the phone to make the doctor’s appointment.) The first item of business this morning is to make an appointment for the earliest possible opening. I’m slightly overdue for the next infusion, and I know from experience that going just a few days too long means turning from a coach into a pumpkin.
When I said this to Sarah, the nurse in the Infusion Therapy Unit who just told me a minute ago that infusion bookings will open at nine, she replied (with her quick Irish wit), “Well, now, that’ll be just in time for Hallowe’en.”