Yesterday was quite a day. We moved out of our Upper East Side apartment to our house in the Catskills. Yup, we're starting a new life in greener, less stressful acres.
Fortunately, I was not involved in moving day because I had to have my 3rd Vidaza shot of the week. By some miracle, I was able to meet my friend Connie for lunch. Then I had the walk-through of my apartment by the agent. After that, I schlepped my luggage on the subway to Brooklyn where I'm staying at Sandy and Dianne's.
Sleeping in an unfamiliar room is a challenge for me. I wake up and have no idea where I am. I'm under the influence of ativan. Add to that no night light and there was a disaster waiting to happen.
At some point, I made my way into the bathroom to find that blood was dripping from an old wound on my right arm. I must have bumped into something. There were drops of blood everywhere. First, I tried to staunch the bleeding. I looked in various drawers for bandaids, to no avail. Finally, I wrapped my arm in toilet paper, moistening it to create a plaster of paris effect. This worked pretty well. Then I cleaned up the blood as best as I could and went back to my room.
Falling is one of my specialties. Once in the room, I tripped over something on the floor, probably my suitcase, anf fell on my right side. I seem to be made out of rubber, because whenever I fall, I never get seriously injured. Last night was the same. I went to bed, with a sore shoulder.
In the morning, I tried to do a better job with my arm wound. I found a gauze pad in my suitcase and some surgical tape. I think I did a good job with it because it's still intact and the bleeding has stopped. That's when I in looked in the mirror and saw the bruises on my shoulder and face. I put some cover-up on the long grayish mark and was ready to face another day filled with appointments, medical and otherwise.