My last post was so aggro, apologies! Sort of, I mean, it’s how I felt at the time.
Tomorrow I get my port out. For those fortunate healthies who don’t know what that is, it’s a little plastic tube that was surgically placed in my chest that allows blood draws, infusions of medicines, etc. that normally would go into my resolutely uncooperative forearm. But since my rascally little veins love to ghost out on even the most experienced nurse, the port was necessary. I won’t call it a godsend, or say I have any sort of attachment to it, but it did save a lot of time and discomfort. I did at times forget it was in. Well, until I wore a low cut shirt or a bathing suit, then anyone could plainly see a Frankenstein-ish bump protruding above my left boob, underneath a purple scar.
Each time I've come to this blog to write, I've struggled with how to start and with what to say. This time is no different. I've had major writer's block the last few months, because what can I possibly write about now? What will anyone want to hear about if not cancer? I know that sounds weird to say but it's true. Many people came here to check in on me and to get a glimpse of what life was like having cancer and now I don't have cancer anymore. Where's the fun?!