Port of Call in Here Be Dust

Yesterday I had called same-day surgery before they had finalized their schedule, but they never called back. Fortunately, I eventually got the info from Bed Control and could call my cabbie to tell him when to pick us up.

It meant that I grabbed my phone off the hook before the answering machine did. Two calls came in while I waited, the first from a person and the second from a robot, both claiming to be Microsoft. An after-hours call to tell me they'd found a problem on my computer? Nuh-uh. Before the live person could get another word in edgewise, I informed him that I was waiting for a call from the hospital, said, "Thanks for trying," and hung up. Some minutes later the robocall came in and I just hung up on that one.

Then, to be sure, I signed on at the Microsoft website and chatted with one of their techs, who confirmed for me that Microsoft doesn't do that sort of thing. Then I resumed waiting by the phone until I got fed up, called, and learned that same-day surgery had gone home. Thank goodness for Bed Control.

Yesterday morning I had called the pharmacy that's sending my anti-nausea meds. They couldn't give me a tracking number because they hadn't sent anything out yet, but they did confirm that they're sending the meds directly to the cancer center. I then called the cancer center, which already knew the meds were coming. I also had a couple of questions for the chemo nurse, who told me that (a) I can take Tylenol and Claritin at any time on the day of chemo, and (b) taking L-glutamine is not recommended because it can interfere with chemo, at least my version of it.

I also changed M's dental appointment, which had conflicted with my first chemo infusion.

This morning my chemo port was put in. Got home, had a smoothie, took a four-hour nap, and am now working on getting enough calories into my system. Supporting my head with one hand as I lie down and get up helps alleviate a lot of discomfort. My neck is sore, but not enough for painkillers. I've eaten chewable food, but anything that uses my neck muscles is a bit of a challenge right now.

M did very well at the hospital. She brought her own food and a book with her, and also had a meal at the hospital cafeteria (whose foods she likes; she raved about their chicken entree).

Believe it or not, I didn't start making smoothies until a couple of days ago: 8 oz. plain Greek yogurt, half-cup of water, 1 banana, 3 tbsp. honey, all kinds of awesome. I am reminding myself to enjoy the taste of food while I still can.

I've got a water bottle (wide-mouthed with a cap) and protein powder by my bed, for those times if/when I don't feel like getting up once chemo starts. I've also salted basins at strategic points throughout the house, just in case.

I've prepared a squeeze bottle of lemon juice, since someone on the What Next forums said it helps with drinking. While getting chemo, I need to aim to down at least 10 glasses of water a day, and chemo can make water taste icky. Another member said that it's good to start that water consumption the day before chemo, so I'll start ramping up my kidneys tomorrow. :-)

Here are some recent arrivals:

These pillows attach to seat belts. The one on the left was given to me by the cancer center. I ordered the one on the right from Hello Courage, run by Denise McCroskey. She writes a great breast cancer blog that I found when I was reading up on ports.

I expect to lose my hair during chemo. I ordered the cap on the left from Hello Courage and the cap on the right from TLC, run by the American Cancer Society. Skin becomes very sensitive during chemo; the caps are manufactured to help protect the scalp. (TLC also has more colorful products. I like this model of cap, which comes in monotone.)

For the non-squeamish: I took a chemo port selfie here. I feel like Frankenstein's monster but without the neck bling.