Ports. 

I don’t really know what a “light” breakfast is. I assume it means no French toast, eggs Benedict, pancakes or bacon. I just had 2 pieces of sourdough toast and coffee to be safe. Then I went the whole day without anything.  ANYTHING! Water, crackers, nothing. To make it better I started having a migraine. Could I take any excedrin? Imitrex? Tylenol? Nooooo. Just add dehydration to my migraine. 

Got there on time for 3:30 pm “check in”. I had already registered the day before so there were less questions asked after sitting in the hospital gown in the gurney for an hour we asked for an update. Turns out my surgery wasn’t even scheduled till 5:30. They were literally trying to starve me. Of course they didn’t even come get me for the surgery till 6:15. I was almost dead and terribly irritable.  

My OR nurse really saved the day for everyone. He says to me, “Your anesthesiologist is doing a clinical trial where he asks the patients where they would most like to go on vacation and then picture that place as they fall asleep and they go there! So love,” (he had a British accent) “where will you be going?” At first I was kind of annoyed but then I saw that he was just trying to make the whole thing easier and really wanted to relieve anxiety about it instead of just go through some humorous routine. I softened instantly. “Well Italy I guess, I always get torn between Europe and tropical destinations.” As he wheeled me down the hall into the OR he asked me why I wanted to go to Italy. I explained how it’s really about food, pasta bread and gelato kinda make life worth living. Each person who walked into the OR he would let them know, “Italy”. 

Next thing I knew I woke up after the surgery with a painful spot on my chest where they made the incision and inserted the port. 

The following morning I woke up in horrible pain with my meds spilled all over the floor and a miserable migraine making me throw up. Enter, hero and legend Tom Pike. My mom was speaking at a women’s retreat in lake arrowhead. I couldn’t even get out of bed, all I could think to do was cry. My father came and saved the day! Iced coffee, banana bread and prescription migraine medication in tow. He read to me, kept me company until I felt better, and helped me with several small projects around the house. It turned a very miserable morning into a quite a pleasant day. I’m really really the luckiest girl in the world, except for the cancer thing. I have a dad who doesn’t just love me, he sees me and understands me. Not many girls can say that!