I called on Wednesday morning and told my surgeon’s nurse I needed to get my port put in for chemotherapy and within the hour, they had me scheduled for the very next day. They told me to be there at 9 am and we would put the port in and have me ready by the next week for the chemo treatment.
I left work early on Wednesday, went by and picked up my orders, pre-registered for my surgery and did another set of labs. Then back to the house to gather the family for church services that night. I worked late into the night getting as much work done as I could since I would be losing another office day. Of course, I should have been resting, but who could!
The next morning, we went to the hospital, got our surgery package and began another day of surgery. This time I took books to read and it kept me entertained. One book I started was I’d Rather Do Chemo Than Clean Out The Garage by Giacomo. It was hysterical. It’s a very irreverent look at cancer and treatment. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Then it occurred to me, I had made it to the hospital with my contacts in, I had no case to take them out with and had left my glasses all together. My brain was already on fry! If it was already this bad, how would my feeble brain make it through chemo?
Bill called my mother who was already in town and she went by the pharmacy and picked me up a contact case and saline. She got there just before they came to take me away so I was able to put my contacts in the case and not in the little vial cups the nurses gave me incase she didn’t make it in time.
My surgeon spoke with me as they were bringing me into the OR. He wanted to know what treatments my oncologist suggested. I told him they gave me a choice and we were going with the AC treatments. He said he had hoped I would choose that route and was happy to help get me on the road. They put me under and I woke up with them prepping me for an additional x-ray to verify that the port was in place. I was more awake in recovery this time and even joked with the nurse that was calling Bill to tell him I was doing ok.
When I got back to my room, I had to do the regular routine, eat, drink, pee, and show my vitals were good and then they had me up and out the door. Bill asked me how I felt and I told him it felt like I had a chunk or metal in my chest. It didn’t exactly hurt, but it was not comfortable at all.
Sleeping the next couple of nights was difficult. I could not get comfortable and wound up sleeping in the recliner laid as far back as it would go. My arm and should were terribly sore, but I was starting to feel better and I began to worry about my chemo treatment the next week and was not sure it would at all be comfortable if it remained this sore. But I decided not to borrow trouble before it came my way. So on I went.
