Kicking Breast Cancer's Butt

Port installed, the procedure itself was not as bad as I thought it would be, but was still more involved that I expected.  Incision in my chest, right under my collar bone, and a “pocket” built for my cute little port.  Also an incision in my jugular – yikes! – to install the tubing that goes from the port to my jugular vein.  The connection allows the chemotherapy drugs to go through my heart, and be distributed throughout my system with each beat of my heart.  Pretty cool, huh?

The three heroes of today’s drama are as follows:

I LOVED my nurse, Kathy.  She watched over me like a mother hen, and seemed to know what I needed, before I needed it.  Not only as regards medication, but when I had an absolute meltdown right after the procedure, and in the hall to xray.  She says it’s just “what I do” but I say “Kathy, you are an angel.  I could not have gotten through today without you.”

My loving husband, who takes care of EVERYTHING, with barely a thank you from me, who benefits the most from all that hard, thankless work.  I don’t have to worry about a thing, and I don’t have to think about a thing.  He does it all, and still pulls a mean espresso shot.  I was so miserable after the procedure, and a whiny baby in recovery.  I complained ALL the way home about my headache, I was tired, I hurt, etc.  Home now, still sore, but feeling so much better.  A Dick’s Deluxe burger and a lovingly prepared espresso con panna from my wonderful and intuitive husband has kicked out my headache, and regulated my emotions, which were on a roller coaster today, as well as my blood sugar.

Making up the trifecta of heroes and heroines, my amazing and wonderful sister.  I was to have testified in a trial Tuesday morning, and had no way to know if I was still needed in the morning.  My sister took extra time and effort today, when she was good and tired herself, to clarify with the parties involved, and rescued me from a 4 hour  car ride,  5 short hours after minor surgery.  I don’t know how she does it – she just DOES.  She is our father’s daughter, 100%.  She’s got a plate load of drama, crapola, and shit she is dealing with, more than any single person should have to deal with in a lifetime, and she only thinks of what everyone else needs.  And that includes me.

I thank God for these people.  My courage is heavily borrowed from my husband, and my sister.

We all depend on the compassion and dedication of the professionals at Seattle Cancer Care.

This post feels a little all over the place, but it comes by it naturally, as that is what’s in my head and my heart today.

I am SO missing my dad today, and his appropriately corny jokes.

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