Portacath Day

So yesterday my port was installed, inserted, implanted, or whatever the proper medical term is. This is the device that will facilitate delivery of my chemo drugs that I hope will not make me sick, or at least not too sick. I was supposed to go at 10:30 but my surgeon was behind. I wasn’t allowed anything by mouth so by 11:45 I was sure I would die of dehydration (I did suck on a few ice cubes on the down low.) I had to squelch my irritation though because what if it were me that needed extra time, I would not want my doctor zipping through my procedure to get back on track. Someone in the pre-op room next to me had like 15 people crammed in their little 8 x 10 room (you know the tiny rooms separated by a shower curtain), for like 2 hours, talking about the weirdest stuff (before anyone gets judgy, I tried not to listen but they were LOUD.) Am I the only one who doesn’t want to be surrounded by a large crowd cheering me on right before surgery? All I wanted was to rest and read my book in peace. Tomas came with me but it was better that I be left alone because really we would just end up trying to think of non-surgery, non-cancer related things to discuss, and end up gossiping about the freakshow happening next door. Everything went as planned, although my throat still hurts from the tube stuck in there during the surgery. And my neck and chest are sore too because there is a little plastic thing with a tube under my skin. It sticks out. Tomas touched it and immediately snatched his hand away saying “ew!” Like it’s a parasitic twin or something.

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