Bionic Woman

Having a "Port" inserted is a very weird feeling. It's a small plastic box that sits under your skin in the chest and two small tubes connect to a vein in your neck and another in your chest.  Chemotherapy and Herceptin will be delivered via the port as opposed to turning my veins into railroad tracks.  Right now, there is a tube or two that hangs outside since I am starting therapy on Thursday but I understand it will eventually be removed.  Thank God it's taped up because with my luck, my cat would think it was a new toy.

I'm trying not to be a baby but...Jesus - I think this hurts more than the lumpectomy.

The whole contraption reminds me of my Jamie Sommers doll (AKA Bionic Woman) I had as a kid.  You removed a panel on her arm and leg to reveal she was a machine.  Although I have no moving parts, it's still an odd sensation knowing this sits under your skin.

Fasting began at midnight and when we arrived at the hospital, the directions provided by the nurse was about as clear as my father giving me directions.  Arriving at the wrong entrance, Meta took the maze beneath the Civic.  With no food or coffee, I felt like a slug in a labyrinth.

As I checked in, I turned around to a woman, invading my space.  She looked at me quite angrily and said "I had an appointment over an hour ago." 

Why is she telling me?  I made it on time.

Turns out she went to the wrong hospital to have her port removed and by the time she arrived at the Civic was on a tangent.  What could the nurses do?  They were going to squeeze her in but that would require waiting.  She expressed her frustration to anyone within earshot.  I was told all "port removals" are done at the Civic Hospital.  She wrote down the wrong hospital.  Obviously she has finished Chemotherapy and still hasn't figured out glitches occur.  I learned last week before even starting, that I will be moving from hospital to hospital, there will always be waiting and nothing goes according to plan - And she hasn't figured this out yet???

I recognized her from another period of my life (perhaps retail) and I had a flashback to her condescending voice.  As the nurses were changes shifts, one said to the other "Oh, and disregard"  I know exactly what that code meant.

I made a promise right on the spot that I won't become "That Lady"

I don't understand why surgeons go into graphic detail about any procedure they are going to do for you.  I showed up for my scheduled appointment.  I'm lying in a gurney in a backless gown.  I'm likely not going to back out that point...So why tell me you are going to tug on my veins and attach a tube?  Do they want me to say "Oh wait. On second thought, I don't think I am going to do this..." 

Just do it and tell me what I have to do afterwards to take care of it.

The problem with conscious sedation is that I think I am a stand up comedian at a night club during any procedure.  I've had plenty of colonoscopies in my time to know its best for all parties involved to render me speechless.  Although I can't remember any of my jokes, I certainly remember chatting every one's ear off and discovered one of the nurses is married to a lad from Shawville.

I am starting to think I have built a tolerance to freezings and sedations.  Two freezings didn't kick in during the needle biopsies, which resulted in me grabbing the edge of the table, while the nurse held my legs down.  I brought new meaning to whiter shade of pale - apparently my lips turned white.

Again yesterday, whatever drugs they gave me didn't work and I think I took everything they had available in the end to reach my happy place.  We didn't start off on the best foot when I felt them rooting around inside me.

Afterwards, a lovely continental breakfast was served in the recovery room.  Thank God Meta showed up with coffee and real food.

But there was no rest for the wicked and we were off to the General for a final visit with the Oncologist and company.  By the end of the day, the freezing wore off and life was not so good.

This week is in true spirit of a rock star - Performing at various hospitals.  I need a black Tshirt with concert dates written on the back

Not as pretty as Laura's work but  you get the idea.  Now if only I could make the same sound when I run and jump as the Bionic Woman