Screw it, I have cancer. I'm going to go all HGTV on my hospital room.
Adrian had an interesting 5th birthday yesterday. The first part of his day was lovely until he started running 103.5 fevers. Strep throat time!
Uh oh. Luckily, my helicopter mothering wasn't interrupted due to the simple practice of hand sanitizer and face masks at the walk in clinic. And yes, my doctor said it was okay to be around him. Which is good because there's not much that can separate me from my sick child. I'm like a momma grizzly bear.
I'm not sure this is a good look for me. I'd rather have the bubble. Would it be like a hover craft? That'd be awesome. Cancer people and germs don't mix. Which is inconvenient since I am a mother. That really does not compute.
And just because I can and you kids totally want to see them. I am going to share the GROSS PICTURES of my chemo port surgical wound.
Recap: this port was put in for the chemo so they don't have to destroy my regular veins. So instead of opening up some juicy veins for chemo time, they'll just stab me in the chest to make it more comfortable. Wait, what?
For some reason this port has been killing me with intense pain. I think everyone is different but a quick Google brought up other cancer patients saying that their hysterectomy hurt less than their chemo port recovery. So that's always nice.
Well then. I am just thrilled to get a big needle stabbed in this bad boy tomorrow.
WARNING: GROSS ZOMBIE PICTURES AFTER THIS POINTTURN BACK NOW IF YOU'RE SQUEAMISH
OH MY GAWD. WHY. THE ZOMBIES ARE HERE!
Was I bitten by a zombie? Is this all part of the zombie apocalypse? Maybe being a liberal hippie wasn't such a good idea because I have no weapons.
Zombie jokes aside, that's the picture of the next day after the surgery. Gross, isn't it? EWWW.
This next one isn't so bad.
And this was yesterday. So it's healing. Now it's turning into a big zombie bump bruise. If you look closely you can see the white line which is the little tube running into my heart vein. Kinda cool if you're not me. This thing sucks.
Pro tip: if you ever have one of these put in you- prepare for intense pain, just in case. I was not prepared. I would have at least done the laundry first before having this done if I would have known it was going to reduce me to a whining man child.*
I report for chemotherapy tomorrow at 10AM sharp (they decided to let me sleep in) so I will keep you all updated. The endless opportunities for inappropriate grumpy cat selfies in the hospital are going to be great.
*Disclaimer: I have nothing against man children. Most of the time.
Owie!
ReplyDelete- Kimm :)