Not a Port, Not a PICC Line But a Midline

July is here and I can't believe that it has now been 6 months since I started my cancer journey.  Had I just let my cancer eat me alive and refuse chemotherapy, I would have been dead within 6-12 months.  My cancer is a sneaky little bastard but with the help of chemo, I'm showing it who is boss.  July is also a very special month because it is my 31st birthday on the 29th.  And I'm very pleased to announce that many of my siblings from Seattle (including my mom) will be traveling down for my birthday.  It really means a lot to me to have them here and help me celebrate since we don't know how many more birthdays I will get.

It's Monday, July 2nd, and I'm waiting for a call from radiology with a new appointment time to have my midline catheter placed.  I'm super anxious as my next chemo is set for July 11th and since we have a holiday this week, 4th of July, I'm not sure if I will get my midline done before my next treatment.  I guess I could keep getting needle pokes for a little while longer but my veins have really had it.  I call radiology all day but I keep getting voicemail.  I don't leave a message, hoping that if I call again in half an hour that I would get a real person.  Finally at about 3pm, I decide to leave a message.  I tell Jackie, the woman who's voicemail it is, that I'm wondering if I can get my midline placed before July 11th and ask her to call me back.  Luckily within 10 minutes, I get a call back.  Derek tells me Jackie is on vacation this week and that he'll look at the schedule for me.  There is an opening at 10:30am tomorrow if I'm available.  Of course I'm available, I tell him.  I ask him if I should stop Lovenox for the night and he tells him he'll call me back after he asks the radiologist.  I get off the phone and tell my sister about my new appointment and tell her that we need to be at the hospital at 9:30am.  I'm so happy.  Derek calls me back, confirming that I need to stop Lovenox just for tonight.  He says that no blood work is needed before hand and that they'll only be using local anesthesia.

I wake up on Tuesday and report to Kaiser in South San Francisco at 9:30am.  I didn't have anything to eat or drink since the night before and the only pill I took was my oral chemo pill.  My sister is with me and we valet the car.  We see that they are having a Farmer's Market today and take a look at the tables before heading towards admitting.  There is a lady selling beautiful orchids and I want to make sure I get one on the way out.  At admitting, I meet Virginia again.  I tell her about how I wasn't able to get my port last week because the doctor had found blood clots as I was on the table.  She told me she would cross her fingers for me, hoping that the midline placement would be a success.  She places a lovely wristband on me and sends me over to radiology with paperwork, where I turn it in to the receptionist.  We sit down in the chairs and wait to be called back.  Within a few minutes, a nurse calls me over and I tell me sister to come with me.  I'm insistent up this.  We head back to the room but my sister waits outside for a minute as the nurse, Donna, gets me into my bed and hands me a gown.  I see Igor and Yolanda from last week and Yolanda greets me.  I tell her how I'm back hoping that I can get a midline today.  Donna takes my vitals and places stickers on my body that are attached to some machine that will monitor my heart.  We go over my list of medications.  She goes and let's my sister into the room.  I ask Donna if she is going to start an IV on me but she tells me that it isn't necessary since they are only using local anesthesia.

Donna placing stickers on my body. 

Ready to get my midline!

I'm happy to see that Dr. Nelson is the radiologist who will be performing my procedure today.  She comes over to greet me and tells me more about what is going to happen today.  She tells me that they typically place the midline on the right arm but if I have a strong preference to place it on the left, they can.  I inform her about my blood clots that had presented themselves on my neck and right arm a couple of week ago and say that it's probably a good idea to use the left arm and she agrees.  It takes months for blood clots to dissolve so I didn't want to start the procedure on the right arm only to be stopped because she found blood clots.  Dr. Nelson tells me about the risks of the procedure and says that since I'm on blood thinners, the worst that will happen is that today the incision will seep blood.  She tells me how I will have the catheter hanging out of my arm and it will be covered by a dressing that will need to be changed once a week in addition to being flushed. They will give me a mesh sleeve to wear so that the catheter doesn't snag on anything.  I sign the consent form and tell her I'm all ready.  My sister leaves the room and waits outside as I'm wheeled into the procedure room.  The procedure will be done using sterile technique. I roll on over to the table and I lay there.  It is so cold.  I get one thin blanket to cover my body and I'm shivering. Yolanda places a big cap on my hair to cover it and they prep my left arm.  Yolanda holds my left arm up as Mayra uses a solution to sterilize my arm.  I look away so that the solution doesn't splash into my eyes.  They put a tent up around my head and I cannot see what they are doing.  I'm all ready to go and my left arm is extended out.  Dr. Nelson enters the room.  She announces what they are doing and it is all very organized.  There is a nurses assistant in the room and she stands behind a clear plastic partition that is specially put up to keep the procedure completely sterile.  Dr. Nelson injects my arm with Lidocaine to numb it up.  It doesn't hurt much but it does sting.  I always tell myself to suck it up and remind myself of all the tattoos on my body.  She uses an ultrasound to help identify where the catheter will go in and to help guide her.  She measures how long the catheter will be and I hear her saying that she's going to start inserting it.  I wasn't in any pain, it was just uncomfortable.  And then there was a part where she was placing a lot of pressure on my arm and it just felt weird.  I'm so glad I could not see what she was doing.  Within minutes, she was done.  My arm felt very strange and I think it was because of the Lidocaine.  I look at my arm and there is a plastic tube hanging out of it with a clear bandage on it.  She tells me that I can go ahead and move my arm around like normal.

My new midline!

They wheel me out of the procedure room and back to my bed.  My sister is allowed back in and she helps me get dressed.  I notice that there is bleeding just as Dr. Nelson said would happen and I tell Donna about this.  Igor comes over and cleans it up, putting a new dressing on.  Donna gives me a couple of bandages and other supplies just in case I have more problems with blood seeping out tonight. I'm handed a mesh sleeve to put over my midline to cover it up a little.  It reminds me of a hooker because it looks like a piece of white fishnet stockings.

What the mesh sleeve looks like.

They allow me to leave and we head on over to the cafe where I grab a smoothie.  We browse the tables at the Farmer's Market before retrieving my car from valet.  I'm able to buy my purple and white orchid and some kettle corn.  I make my sister drive home since my arm is still numb from the Lidocaine.  We arrive at home and I change into my pajamas.  I plan on resting up and sleeping.  I announce on my Facebook that my midline was a success.  I got a tip from another cancer warrior about taking tube socks and cutting them up to make sleeves for my midline.  I check my sock drawer and find a pair of fancy knee length socks.  I cut them up and it made a very nice sleeve.  Much more stylish than the one I got from the hospital.  

My homemade sleeve. 

It's now the 4th of July and I decide to stay home and rest.  The property management at my apartment informs us that the pool that has been under renovations for months is now open.  I am super bummed out because I was looking forward to using it and now that I have my midline, I can't submerge my arm under water.  When I take a shower, I now have to wrap my arm in Glad Press'n Seal so that it does not get wet.

What shower time will look like from now on.

I'll admit.  Sometimes I take a shower every other day because it's such a hassle wrapping my arm up.  And I've noticed a huge decrease in my energy level, too.  I'm always fatigued.  My appetite has been slowly disappearing and at one point, I just could not bring myself to eat anything.  It was towards the end of the night on the 4th when I noticed that I had hardly eaten anything. I felt like there was something stuck in my throat and my stomach felt full.  The next day, I emailed my doctor about my concerns with my loss of appetite.  I told her that I felt full when I woke up that morning and I had an empty stomach.  She told me that if the cancer in my stomach was growing, it could cause me to feel full.  I felt so discouraged.  Since we had done a CT scan on June 4th, my doctor wanted to wait two my chemo cycles before we did a PET scan to see what was going on.  I would do the scan in August and then we'll know if my cancer is growing or not.  But we were going to give chemo a chance to slow it down and perhaps even to shrink it.  She also asked me to feel my pelvic mass to see if it felt bigger.  Almost nightly, when I lay down to sleep, I always feel my pelvic mass. I knew that it felt bigger.  I was just in denial and had high hopes that my cancer is shrinking and I didn't want to admit that it felt bigger.  I told my oncologist about this.  For now, I was increasing my dosage of morphine to help with the pain.  When I wake up, I have a strange feeling in my stomach. It is a weird pain.  It makes me feel gross.  I take my liquid morphine and it kicks in fast.  It takes all this pain away and I feel completely normal.  I don't feel high or loopy.  Morphine doesn't make me sleepy anymore.  It has really been a miracle drug for me.  I also ask my oncologist if she can order a chest x-ray to see how much fluid is in my lungs.  I know that it's time for me to have another thoracentesis.  When I lay on my back, I feel as if there is something on my chest weighing it down.  And when I cough or sneeze, it feels weird.  I also caught myself wheezing one night.  At least now that I've had the procedure done before, I know what to expect and I'm not scared.  I'm just saddened that the fluid had returned.  The fluid in my belly, the ascites, has also returned.  I look in the mirror and I can see that my belly is sticking out.  I'm now on 80 mg of Lasix but I see that it is not increasing my need to urinate after a few days of taking it.  I decided to take one of my old 20 mg pills in addition to the 80 mg and I see a difference.  100 mg is what works to help me rid the ascites.  

 I attempt to eat every couple of hours, even if it's just a few bites. On Friday, I wake up craving Thai food.   It's noon already so I call in an order to my favorite Thai restaurant and go pick up the food.  I am happy that I eat a very good portion.  This eases my fear that the cancer in my stomach is growing.  If it was, how could I possibly fit that much food in it?  I'm now noticing that it's a daily struggle to wake up and manage my pain.  I cannot function without the liquid morphine. I am in bed hating life if I don't have it.  Once it kicks in, I'm more likely to want to get out of the apartment.  I'm not quite ready to get back into traveling since my lungs are not at their best right now.  And I'm still struggling to find my energy.  One night, I was having a lot of pain and the thoughts in my head just came crashing down on me.  I started to question why I was doing this.  I asked myself if this was it, was I coming to the end of my journey.  I'm always afraid that cancer is winning and that I'm lucky if I have a few more months to live.  But I have to trust that my doctor is treating me in the best way possible and that I can fight this. It's such a scary journey, but I'm happy to have connected with other friends in the cancer community that have helped me during the rough moments.  They help get me through them and encourage me to stand up to cancer and keep fighting.  I'm also grateful to have a lot of people cheering me on through Facebook.  Their words of encouragement mean the world to me.  I couldn't imagine fighting this cancer without anyone there to offer their support.  They help keep my spirit up.  It's true what they say, no one fights cancer alone.  

Pet therapy:  resting with Molly at my side. 

Aredia Treatment 6/29/12

I've lost count as to how many Aredia treatments I've had but I think this is number 5 or 6.  Gone are the days of bone pain associated with these bone treatments. (To recap, since my cancer has spread to my bones I go in for these infusions every 4 weeks and they help strengthen my bones).   And I'm so grateful for that as the feeling of bone pain is like no other.  It really does feel like an elephant has sat on my body and crushed every bone.  

My sister is pretty much staying with me full time and helping me out.  I am very appreciative of this because she just does things without me asking and makes sure things around the home are taken care of in addition to preparing my meals and giving me my Lovenox shots.  We head on in to Kaiser in South San Francisco for my 9:45am appointment.  I check in and wait to be called.  I see on my receipt that I've been assigned Nurse Clarita.  My nurse calls me back and I tell my sister to join me as the infusion should only take an hour.  Clarita asked me if I had my port placed and I frown, breaking the news to her that the radiologist had found a blood clot while I was on the table and it was too dangerous to proceed.  I told her that there was another option that they were going to try on me which is a midline catheter.  I sit in my comfy recliner and Clarita takes a look at my arms.  She places a warm towel on my left hand.  I am silently praying to God to give Clarita the guidance to stick me with the needle on the first try.  I look away as she inserts the needle and it's a success!

Success! IV in on the first stick!

Setting IV in place.

I tell Clarita how awesome she is as it is a chore trying to find my veins.  Head nurse Cynthia comes over and double checks my medication and identify with Clarita as Clarita hooks me up to my Aredia.  Cynthia asked me what happened with my port.  I tell her about the blood clots and ask her if she is familiar with a midline catheter.  I had received clarification from my oncologist that a midline is neither a PICC line nor a port.  Cynthia explains to me that a midline is very similar to a PICC, in which the end of the catheter will be sticking out of my arm.  I will need to come in for weekly dressing changes and have it flushed also at that time.  I'm not too excited about this as she tell me more about the midline.  Chemo nurses are a great source of knowledge.  I tell them that this is my best option since my veins are getting harder and harder to find and because I cannot get a port at this time.  The midline catheter will be inserted in my upper arm and go in towards my chest but will not go near my superior vena cava, which is where the port catheter does and that is a problem for me and my blood clots.  I'll need to cover my arm with plastic wrap when I shower and I won't be able to submerge my arm in water.  This means no pools or hot tubs for me.  I'm a little bummed out about this since it's the summer and I wanted to start hitting up the pool (my apartment pool has been under renovation and will open up 4th of July).  If I have to choose and make a small sacrifice, I'll take it.  I really do hate getting stuck with needles when it takes multiple tries to finally get an IV started or to draw blood.  Having this midline means that all my chemo will go through here as well as accessing my blood for blood draw.

Nurses teaching me about the midline catheter.

This is what my midline will look like. 

Pushing my lovely machine to the bathroom.

The infusion is over after an hour and my sister and I head over to the Tanforan mall which is a mile down the street from the hospital.  I had to stop by Target and return something and then we headed to the food court to get something to eat.  We pick up some Korean food and I always order more food than I can eat.  I figure I can always eat the rest later but I am pleasantly surprised that I made a good dent in my plate.  My sister runs to the car to save our left overs and then we head on upstairs to the movie theater.  We are planning on watching Magic Mike.

My review on Magic Mike. 

It was nice to get out of the house and enjoy myself.  While watching the movie, I felt completely normal and I didn't feel like I had cancer.  I love it when I feel that way.  No nausea, no pain.  Just complete happiness and a lot of hope.  That weekend, my sister and her boyfriend went away overnight so it was just me and the cats at home.  I had my friend Taylor stop by Saturday to give my Lovenox shot.  I had slept most of the day off so at around 8pm, I started watching television shows On Demand.  I discovered Take Me Out and The Choice which air on Fox and those shows had me cracking up.  Something about watching them made me want to put on a nice dress and heels.  They are both dating shows and it made me think about how I miss dating.  I wish I felt healthy enough to date.  While I barely still do text a couple of guys from the dating website I was on, I haven't been proactive in setting up a time to meet.  Lately it's been a roller coaster managing my pain.  I think I've been in denial about how much pain I'm in.  I want to feel like super woman and try to get away with not taking any morphine but when I finally just take it like I'm supposed to, I notice that I do feel better.  I feel like being dependent on pain meds means that I'm admitting that I'm weak and that my cancer is winning.  I know that these are distorted thoughts.  I'm just so hard on myself when it comes to winning.  And my breathing hasn't been so great lately.  Dr. Haq had warned me that the fluid in my left lung could quite possibly return and that there was nothing that I could do to prevent this.  Similar to my ascites, I could feel that the fluid was returning.  I don't have shortness of breath but I do notice that after climbing the stairs to my 2nd floor apartment, I am winded.  When I lay on my back at night to sleep, I feel as though something is weighing down my chest.  I'll have to ask my oncologist if I can go in for an x-ray to see how much fluid has accumulated in my lung.  Aside from these issues, I just don't feel like I can give someone 100% in a relationship.  I can have fun and date, but anything long term (or short term for that matter) is not for me.  I am just very grateful that I don't feel lonely or the need to have a boyfriend.  I'm just not interested in it and I have of friends and family who will hang out with me.  And without hopefully not sounding like a cat lady, I have Molly and Dash who really do complete my life.  With them, I am truly never lonely.

Dash (in stripes) and Molly, my two loves.

Another Punch to the Gut

It's now Wednesday, June 27th, the day I have been waiting for.  I get my port today.  I am super excited for no more needle sticks!  I wake up at 8am and take my anti nausea and Xeloda.  My sister and her boyfriend are at my apartment ready to take me to my appointment.  I realize that I never received any pre op instructions from interventional radiology.  Strange.  Usually anytime I have a procedure done, they email me instructions on what I need to do.  I post a question on Facebook about whether or not I can eat and one of my friends who is a nurse confirms that I shouldn't.  I just really want a smoothie but I can wait. I dress in some comfy pajamas and my Superman sweatshirt.

We headed on in to Kaiser in South San Francisco where the procedure is going to take place.  My sister's boyfriend drops us off curbside and we tell him to meet us at the lab.  We pass by the cafe inside the hospital and I point this out to my sister and tell her that's where I want her to buy my raspberry smoothie when I'm done with surgery.  I get to the lab and there's no line.  When I had called radiology on Monday to ask them when to stop my Lovenox shots, they told me to get an INR test at 9am Wednesday.  I tell the tech sitting at the desk that I need an INR and that I'm having surgery today.  People with same day surgery get priority.  He checks me in and tells me to wait in the chairs.  I dread this lab.  They are always busy and this day was no different.  I barely found an empty chair for me and my sister had to stand by the wall.  In a couple of minutes they call my name.  Score!  I was so happy I didn't have to wait.  My sister comes in to the lab with me and she tells me how she heard the other patients waiting snicker that I got to cut.  My thoughts?  When you get sliced open, you'll get to cut in line, too!  I roll up my sleeves and tell the phlebotomist that it's her choice, wherever she can find a vein.  I tell her that it's extremely hard to find them as chemo has killed them.  She picks a vein on my left arm and on the first try, she gets blood.  I didn't feel the needle and was so happy with her skills!

Blood draw before surgery.

Next we head on over to Admitting where they will set me up in the system for my surgery.  I meet Virginia who will be processing my paperwork.  She is such a nice lady and we talk.  She takes my $20 copay and gives me a lovely wristband to wear.  She gives me a stack of paperwork and tells me to go to radiology and hand it to the receptionist.  We walk to radiology, another busy department, and I hand in my paperwork where the receptionist tells me to take a seat and she'll call them in the back to let them know I'm here.  I sit down for a few minutes and then I get called back.  I take my sister with me.  The nurse who called me back, Igor, tells me that they are filled up in the back and my sister can't come with me.  I'm bummed out so I give her a hug and I follow Igor.  He leads me into a room filled with curtains and I take the bed in the middle.  There is a guy to my right who looks like he is prepped and ready to go in for his surgery.  To my left, I hear a woman and some male visitors.  That's it. Igor said they were backed up?  I don't get it.  And I didn't think it was fair that my sister wasn't allowed to come with me.  Igor gives me a gown and tells me to take everything off from the waist up.  I ask him if I get some snazzy looking sock since I'm wearing flip flops.  Ok, he says.  I'm getting the feeling that Igor is not a warm and fuzzy guy.  It's too bad because I strongly feel that people who work in healthcare have to have a certain degree of compassion and warmth.  I change into my gown and socks and wait on my bed.  Igor comes back and we go through my list of medications.  I tell him about how I didn't get any pre op instructions and all he could say is that that was strange.  There is another nurse sitting across from me asking me if I had done my blood work.  I told her that all I did was the INR test that I was instructed to do when I had called Monday.  The nurse, Yolanda, says that I should have done a CBC also.  She looks further in her computer and comments out loud that someone had cancelled it.  All they had to work with were the numbers from last week before I had chemo.  In my head all I could think about was how things were not going as planned with radiology.  Someone was obviously not doing their job.

So excited to be finally getting my port!

The next step was to place an IV in my arm so that I would be able to get my meds for surgery.  Igor is off in the background doing something and Sergio comes over to start my IV.  I show him my arms and tell him that it's his choice, wherever he can find a good place. I tell him I'll buy him lunch if he can start the IV on the first stick.  He chooses my right arm and uses a rubber band to torture my arm and cut off my circulation.  That part always hurts!  Sergio sticks me and fails.  Igor comes over and takes my left arm, inspecting it, choosing my hand as his choice.  He taps my hand over and over and this hurts.  The man is not gentle.  Sergio is looking at my right hand, contemplating on sticking me again.  Igor feels confident enough on his vein choice and I allow him to stick me.  Fail.  He said he burst my vein.  I look and it's at least not bleeding.  He bandages me up.  Sergio calls over Mayra for assistance.  Sergio tries explaining to me why my veins are so hard to stick, something about them being noodle like.  Mayra feels all over my right arm.  She sticks me in my right arm, the same area where Sergio had first attempted.  I never look when they stick me.  And it's not the needle poke that hurts me, its the wiggling around that makes me cringe.  I hear snickering going on to my right and I look.  Mayra is not wearing any gloves and my arm is drenched in my deep red blood.  I know I don't have cooties but I don't know what kind of cooties Mayra has been touching!  My stomach starts to churn at the site.  They stare at the floor and I peer over, only to see a pool of my blood there.  Sergio and Mayra call out to Jackie, who comes over and see blood everywhere.  It's like a slaughterhouse around here, I say out loud.  Jackie runs back to her office.  The techs tell me that she hates blood and will faint at it's sight.  In the moment, I played along and even asked Jackie to hold my hand but now that I think about it, I kind of feel offended at the mockery they created over the mess they made!  Sergio finally gets up and brings over towels to clean up the mess.  Another tech, John, comes over to see what's going on.  Mayra is giving it one more try to see if she can start an IV.  John is trying to distract me by asking me about the tattoo that I have on my left arm.  He shows me his and we have a conversation about tattoos.  Mayra finally gets the IV going on the fourth stick on my upper right wrist.  I am just glad she finally got it.  

My bloody wristband. 

Dr. Nelson appears and introduces herself as the radiologist that will be performing my surgery.  She is a young, pretty doctor.  She tells me about the procedure and asks me if I have any questions, and I don't.  The next thing I know, I'm being wheeled into the procedure room where there are several LCD screens.  John and Sergio get me ready and I roll over to the table where I will have my surgery.  Mayra puts a hair net on me and oxygen tubes for my nose.  She asks me to lay with my head facing to the left.  She adjusts my gown and sterilizes the right side of my neck and chest.  The sponge is cold against my skin and I'm shivering.  Yolanda comes over and she tells me she is going to give me medication through my IV that will relax me but I will be awake.  I lay there, stop shivering, and feel very relax.  I hear Dr. Nelson take charge.  Everyone announces their name.  They ask me to recite my name, date of birth, medical record number, and what type of procedure I'm having. I also tell them that I want a smoothie.  I hear Sergio call out the tools they will be using.  Dr. Nelson says she will inject my neck with Lidocaine and make a small incision in my neck.  She'll use an ultrasound to guide her as she inserts the port.  I feel the shot but it doesn't bother me.  I hear her say she's making the incision.   I'm somewhat drugged up but still awake.  All of a sudden I hear Dr. Nelson say that she see's a blood clot and she can't continue.  The procedure must stop as continuing can be very dangerous.  Dr. Nelson comes to my side and tells me we have to stop.  I start to cry.  I want this port badly.  Yolanda tries to comfort me.  They bandage up my neck and Sergio applies pressure for a few minutes, since I'm on blood thinners and more likely to bleed.  I couldn't help but to just cry.  They move me over to my old bed and wheel me out to the sectioned off curtains.  John hands me a box of tissues.  Dr. Nelson comes to talk to me and I ask her if she can try again later on my left side and she tells me possibly, but for now we can't proceed and we need the blood clots to dissolve.  Since I'm on Lovenox already, we're on the right track.  Yolanda tells me that I have to wait about half an hour before they can discharge me because they have given me meds to relax me.  Igor calls my sister to let her know that I'm out.  Since it's Wednesday and my oncologist is not working, they let me know that they spoke with the oncology department to let them know what's going on.  I'm devastated and heart broken.  The thought of needle sticks makes me cringe.

Crying my eyes out and bandaged up.

My sister comes back to see me and I cry, explaining to her what happened.  We leave and pick up something to eat on the way home.  I run to my room and close the blinds.  I nibble on my tacos and take some Ativan.  I continue to cry and cry.  I just want to be left alone and sleep. All I want is my Molly.  I started to doubt why I was doing this.  I was starting to lose hope.  I thought about the rest of my life and receiving chemo through my veins.  I hated the thought.  I didn't know if I could do it.  I thought about whether Dr. Nelson had lied to me about being able to possibly go in later on to give me a port.  I had a good cry session.  I needed to let it out.  I thought about my life a year ago and how I was a normal girl.  My life was not supposed to be this way.  I hated cancer.  I didn't know why it picked me.  It really does not care who you are.  I cringed at the thought of the months ahead of treatment.  Not being able to work.  Enduring the side effects of chemo.  Feel nauseous.  Feeling pain.  I just didn't know if I wanted to do it anymore.  Why was I doing this?  Was I living for me or was I living because everyone expects me to fight?  It's almost like I feel all this pressure to be strong and here I was breaking.  It was just a bad day.  I was reading status updates from fellow cancer warriors and they too were having bad days.  I hated cancer.  I was now apart of this community that no one should ever be part of.  The cancer community.  I hated that I had to be a member but I was grateful at the same time.  Cancer has connected me to so many great people.  Other people who know what I'm going through.  We cheer each other on, cry on each others shoulders, and talk just like normal people.  Cancer has also given me so many supporters who have my back and will lift me up when I'm feeling down.  The tremendous outpour of support was so overwhelming yesterday.  I just needed to kick, scream, and yell.  To get it all out.  I know that I'll have my tough days, days where I'll feel like giving up, but I have to remember that this is not over and that I will never give up.  Not that easily.  I have to allow myself to feel these emotions and know that they are temporary.  

I woke up today, with tears in my eyes, and I allowed myself to cry some more.  I stayed in my room and my sister tried to get me to eat.  I wasn't having any of it.  She carried on with her day and brought me home some food.  First thing in the morning, I had emailed my oncologist, telling her how heartbroken I was over not being able to get my port but I was wondering if there was still a chance for me to get one.  Normally my oncologist is very good about calling or emailing me back but by 4pm, I hadn't heard from her so I called.  The nurse who answered told me that she was running behind a little and since she had been on vacation last week, she did has a full in basket.  I understood and told her that if she could get back to me by tomorrow that would be great.  To my surprise, my oncologist wrote back to me shortly after 5pm.  She told me she spoke with Dr. Nelson and that she was willing to try again this time using a "midline which goes into your veins around your armpit area." She said interventional radiology would call me with an appointment.  I was so ecstatic!  I have an appointment tomorrow morning for my Areadia treatment and although I'll have to get stuck with a needle, I was joyed to know that quite possibly I would have a port by my next chemo which is July 11. I finally came out of my room and joined my sister in the living room.  My spirit started to come back and my heart slowly started to smile.  We watched tv together and ate dinner.  I painted my nails a mint green color (nail painting is one of my favorite things to do).  I was finally back to my old self.  I told my sister that this time around I wanted her to be there with me.  I understand that she can't be there to witness the procedure but she could at least be there for the prepping.  This is something I'll have to insist upon, especially with the carelessness I had experienced with the techs trying to start my IV.  So Marta is back and she is ever so hopeful!  I know that I'll have more rough days ahead, but if I sit here and reflect, I have had more good days than bad.  I have to remember that I am blessed and thank the big man upstairs for listening to me.  Sometimes I do get mad at him and lose faith, but I know he hears me.  After Aredia tomorrow, I plan on doing some retail therapy and indulging a little.  I've had another punch to the gut but things are looking up.

The incision that was made in my neck.