Cancer Makes Me Grumpy

Friday's procedure to insert the port for chemo went well. I had to leave my glasses behind with my clothes, so when I rolled into the surgery room I was fully alert but couldn't see clearly. I didn't care for that. The nurses were great at making small talk to keep me relaxed until the surgeon arrived but staring at those huge lights and listening to clanking metal instruments and knowing one of them is for slicing skin. Ugh.

This port is exceedingly uncomfortable. It itches, it aches, and it's just THERE. I suppose I'll get used to it eventually but right now I am incapable of forgetting about it. For the last few days it's been a little harder to stay in the moment. That's my stress-management strategy: focus only on what is happening today. I am mentally wandering off into the move, the next six months of poison drips, the side effects...

Cancer is stupid. If I saw cancer on the playground, I would push it down the slide head first. I would catch it on the monkey bars and pull its pants down. And I would not feel sorry.