The big rebound is gaining velocity. It took a solid hour early, early this morning for the desperation Zantac to make a difference in my system, but once it did, I was able to sleep deeply, all the way until 9 am. Once I woke, I practically vaulted out of bed, ready to be a real human. (Disclaimer: my version of waking with energy is very different than all y’all who don’t live with chronic illness.) I got a few things done, and left a few things for later. I’m learning to pace myself. I made it the whole day without noticeable backtracking. This is worth celebrating.
The way I shall celebrate breaking through the last down week will be getting up way earlier than usual tomorrow and going back to the hospital to have my port removed. My show time is 7, and unless there is a schedule goof like last time, I should be released before 11. I won’t be allowed to do a whole lot of stuff during the rest of the day, because I will have just had a tube removed from my jugular vein, and I am pretty sure there is a fair bit of scar tissue that makes this a delicate procedure. I also have begged them not to let me be as wide awake as I was last time. The operating room was seriously frigid, and the table they put me on was hard as a rock. I shook the whole time. But they said it takes only half an hour, start to finish, so they don’t do full sedation. Damn.
I know it was incredibly useful, this port, but I have hated it from the moment it went in. I can’t wait to get it out. It gives me the heebie jeebies all the time, especially when I’m trying to sleep on my side and it gets tugged. It stopped actually hurting after about three weeks, but I never stopped feeling it, even when I wasn’t thinking about it. Removing it will be a huge symbol of putting chemo behind me, and I rejoice that the day is almost upon me when it goes away.
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