Port accessed. Waiting for infusion. And that's how it will stay for the next 2 days while I'm hooked up to my pump.
Scored the private room with a bed because there were no chairs available. And getting to spend time with Nene Leakes? The icing on the cake.
Parenting from the bed. How one survives motherhood during an infusion. #parentingfromthecouch
Brand new infusion room. The nicest and most peaceful one I've passed through.
Brand new deluxe infusion chair. Am I here for a pedicure or an infusion?
The nausea patch (Sancuso) to end all nausea patches, that did nothing to end my nausea or vomiting.
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| Get a port, they said. It will hardly be noticeable, they said. |
It's staring right at you, so feel free to stare right back.
Just a girl, some chemo drip-drip-dripping, and a new memoir-of-the-week.
5 comments:
Let me try this again. One should not leave blog comments with canines jumping all over you.
I had Hodgkin Lymphoma at 28 and again at 33. Cancer has to suck the biggest wad EVER.
I'm glad your infusion chair had some creature comfort, at the very least.
Thanks, Karen. The only thing that's ever enhanced it more that a seat heater or a nail salon-worthy massager is the day I walked in and the local massage school was giving out hand and foot massages to those being infused. Don't mind if I do. And just ignore me if I fall asleep and start drooling while you do deep tissue on my big toe.
Hahaha! Well deserved too. :)
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