Vein of my Existence

We’ll call her Mary (Not her real name) She was something out of Mr. Rogers neighborhood. She was my nurse today. I had two. A pre-op/post-op nurse and an operating room nurse.

Mary was a great mixture of Miss Rachel and Mr. Rogers, probably more Miss Rachel.

You know what? I’m gonna call her Miss Rachel. And I mean that with utmost respect. She was kind, upbeat and perfect disposition.

Today went well, usually I write my blogs around midnight, but I am writing this now, because at 9:00 pm, the numbing agent is starting to finally wear off and I can feel the irritation and pull now. I had a good go. They said 4-6 hours, I got ten. Then again, I took a two hour nap.

I had a hard time sleeping last night, as you can guess.

I fell asleep around 330 and was up at 5:30. I wasn’t nervous or filled with anxiety, I think I just wanted to get it over.

I had to drive into the city and be there by nine. My sister came with me

When it was time, I was greeted by Miss Rachel, and not just a friendly hello, she smiled widely and hugged me. She took me and my sister back into another waiting and changing room, asked if I needed help undressing. I said no.

Then to an exam room. Where she did the vitals thing, put an IV line in my arm, then cheerfully explained the procedure. She told me that I would get a local and mild sedation, then said in the up voice. “You’ll be awake but not remember the procedure.”

“Does that mean I won’t be sleeping, I can be talking.”

“Yes, but no worries, you won’t remember what you said.”

UG. No. Immediately thoughts from my writer’s mind took off. Would I talk about Beginnings, Frank and Joe. Good God, I mean, I am always thinking about what I am writing. What if I spew out I am planning of destroying Steubenville, and wake up to FBI staring me down.

Um, no. I’ll pass on the sedation, thanks.

She then said if I want they can give me pain medication.

“Will it make me loopy?”

“Possibly.”

“I’ll pass.”

She seriously looked at me and said, “Don’t be a martyr.”

“Oh, I’m not, I just don’t trust what will come out of my mouth. After about 40 minutes in that room I went to the OR. It was like sci fi, the table moved, this machine above me circles me. They painted me with this blue stuff. The tech complimented that I was the easiest vein to find in his career. Cool.

I was awake during the procedure, not sedated. And I still talked the entire time. I could feel the pressure of the procedure, no pain. They told me to pick my port music. I of course picked my favorite country/Cristian singer. They never heard of him. My OR nurse loved his voice and looked him up. She commented, “Wow he’s attractive.”

“Yeah, he’s hot. I met him,” I told her. “But he’s surprisingly skinny, like borderline crackhead skinny. No offence to anyone in the room that may be a crackhead.”

At that point I felt the doctor pause and she laughed loudly.

Damn filter on me again.

Anyhow it finished, I had more problems with laying on that table for an hour. My back hurt for at least an hour.

Leaving the OR, I took off my blue hat and decided to make my hair look crazy for my sister (Reenactment picture),
but Miss Rachel saw me first, looked horrified and was like oh, you poor thing, Let me help you.

She grabbed my arm to escorted me back to the waiting area where she fed me crackers and Pepsi. She said, “Sit here, when you feel steady, get dressed, but not before you feel steady.”

“Ok.”

“When I walk out of here you’re gonna leave aren’t you?”

I just smiled and thanked her.

Now to relax. I’m gonna kick back on my reclining couch,  I was told that was probably for the best so I don’t roll in my sleep. Binge watch From Season 4 and if I fall asleep, so be it. AC is pumping, I’m set up all cozy with pillows and a blanket.

Growing a Pair

 

It was a good day. I had lunch with my aunt and it was nice to spend that time with her, my daughter came too. It took my mind off of things.

Lots of phone calls from the hospital today.

The Port nurse called with questions and instructions. She seemed rather flighty to me.

My oncologist called to discuss next week’s treatments and said, “How about how great those Echo results were.”

My nurse oncologist navigator called to prep me with information for treatment. Apparently, I am going to be there this first time for HOURS.

And then I got the courage to call Steve. He had reached out to me but I just couldn’t talk to him. It was hard. It was Steve. Those of you who know me know how hard that was. He was also co-writer of my new theme song and said he would happily help record it.

I thought a lot about Ron Brown today, my kids’ father. How close we were and of course, how competitive we were. How he was such a huge creative influence in my life.

Today was the day for saying things out of the blue, I told my daughter, “I am going to live longer than your father.”

To which she replied, “Why are you still competing with Dad?”

“Because he’d want it that way. We always competed.  In everything.”

He was fifteen years older than me. That’s my goal at least!

Anyhow, I went to my son’s show tonight. I didn’t do stand up, I was in the mood to just watch. It was wonderful. Strangers, no social anxiety. A friend I’ve known for decades was there he had no idea what was going on with me and it was so awesome to get a hug that wasn’t sympathetic if that makes sense. Glad to see you sort of thing.

I realized tonight that my social anxiety has to do with facing people with my disease.

Family functions, church.

Speaking of church.

I think cancer removed my filter.

Not that I had much of a filter as it was, but now it’s gone. Almost as if I can’t control what comes out of my mouth. We were at church staff meeting and when asked my thoughts on the new, young Associate pastors’ sermon, it just rolled from my mouth in honesty. She looked at me with daggers and shock. I was being honest. I apologized for being blunt. But it was already said.

Before I could stop myself … I just started ranting.

I don’t like that side of me. Maybe subconsciously I am thinking life’s too short to not be honest.

I’m tired. I hope I can get some rest. 6 am comes early. I did write tonight as well.

Tomorrow … port of de insertion. Am I nervous? Heck yeah. I’ll fill you in.