Resistance is Futile

Happy New Year!

Glad to report that I am entering 2012 no longer part of the collective. My little IV adaptor (Power Port) has been removed and I am almost feeling normal again. All I need is some hair and eyebrows, but it seems like the more I want them the slower they grow. For those of you curious about or debating the port, I do have to admit I am glad that I went through with it and have no regrets. It really saved my poor little arms from vein hunting during blood draws and treatment sessions. The downsides were that it is super ugly, made a little scar and I could't wear a shoulder strap (seat belt or satchel). I whined and moaned about it a lot but it made going into the Dr. office a breeze. Having it installed and then eventually  removed was no biggie either. Of course I was nervous as hell and had to up the Ativan, but I made a big deal for nothing. Here is a picture of what the port looks like under the skin:

The scar looks pretty bad I know, but the Dr. who removed it said she thinned it out with the new stitch job to make it less noticeable (I hope she did but it's still under steri-strips so I have no idea). The three bumps are metal beads so the nurse can feel around a make a straight target for the middle. The port is attached to a long hollow tube which during installation is inserted surgically into a big vein. The tube went up into my neck for some reason and was sometimes a little uncomfortable, but not enough to complain. If you're expecting to receive multiple infusions or blood draws, don't worry about being assimilated, it's really the best thing you can do for yourself. I am a huge bawling baby when it comes to needles. If I can do it, anyone can.

Jan 9th starts the next chapter of treatment for me: Radiation. I am so grateful to no longer have to deal with needles and hair loss and stomach aches, but I'm also not looking forward to burning and aching. Thankfully it's just 6 weeks and I will only be working part time through that part. 

This whole ordeal (so far) has changed me somehow and I can't quite put it into words. I feel mournful for the time I lost being sick, but also liberated in a weird way. I know that I have to change my way of thinking in order to make my life more enjoyable and meaningful. I care a little bit less about what people think and a little bit more about what makes me happy. It may seem selfish, but who cares? Life is too short to please everyone all of the time. Change happens whether you like it or not. Life happens to everyone. I'm choosing to see my experience as an eye opener to my bad habits and bad choices. I have to do something different from now on so this never ever happens again. I got lucky, but next time maybe not. Its time to re-evaluate my priorities and make a change. New diet, more exercise, less stress. Resistance is futile!