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sg1 poke

Day 2 of the ordeal...

It is like coming up from being too long under water--you are gulping air and wishing that you were somewhere else. And yet the kids have to be sent off to school, laundry needs doing, kitchen needs sweeping, and so forth and so on. The medi-port aches at my jugular vein and at the port itself and I'm low-level nauseous and weak as a kitten. This sucks big time. Yet, I'm told I'm brave. I don't feel that way. Mom is still feeling sorry for herself for not being able to help more (because we don't need it due to strings involved.) For example, Mom comes to pick me up on Wednesday morning to go for the medi-port operation at 7 am. She came 20 minutes early and refused to come into the house. Sat in her cold car while I finished getting L ready for school. I will never understand her.

Wednesday was hellacious--medi-port goes in under sedation with a wire pulled down through the jugular vein through my heart and up to guide the catheter of the medi-port into the proper vein. It entails two cuts and a lot of strong pulling and pushing while the Radiologist is singing oldies in a very scratchy voice and the techs teasing him and we're talking about our kids in elementary school (turns out the Radiologist lives near me). Very surreal. Then Lunch and then off to oncologist who sets me up with gobs of anti-nausea meds and steriods in the cocktail of chemotherapy drugs via the medi-port and I sit for three hours alternately dozing off the sedation from the morning and listening to the nurse tell her fascinating (I mean it) life story. What a day.

So here I drag my self around trying to be normal and basically functioning but really really weak and yechy. I don't want an aww baby--I'm just counting the days.

Peter, Paul & Mary - Album 1700 - If I Had Wings