I feel like a gas tank.

Today was a very busy day and most of it spent at the hospital. While quite a bit of it was sitting around and waiting, there was about 3 hours worth of interesting stuff. First, I nearly passed out. And all they did was put a needle in the back of my hand. Have I mentioned that I don't like needles? Anyway, it was just saline, and from the way I reacted, you would have thought they were pumping me full of drugs. Well, later on they did pump me full of drugs. But I meant a different kind of drug. ...uh...yeah. OK. Still a little tired on this end.

After moving me upstairs (I love riding on gurneys) I met the surgeon who would be putting in my port. He's a very nice man with a heavy Russian accent. He started off by showing me the port - not the brightest of moves. As far as I was concerned that thing was huge. "It will be like small stack of quarters, under skin" Ha! Small stack of quarters, my ass. My only thought at this point was that they had better knock me the hell out. Have I mentioned that I'm not big on pain, either?

The attendent was actually very nice and overall it was fine. They didn't knock me out, but they gave me a local so I didn't feel anything. On top of that they gave me something to calm me down. That was wonderful stuff. I really need to figure out what that was. I could think of several instances when it would come in handy. Not just for me. Think about how mellow Mom would be on that stuff. (Sighs and has a pleasant Mom-is-high daydream)

As fun as all the medicine was, you will never believe the most calming aspect of this experience. It was the doctor's accent. ("OK. Lie still. I give you small shot. It make you feel nothing") Most of you who have made comments on my blog, realize that I am from a heavily slovak/german family. And when I tell you that this Doctor sounded like my Grandfather, I'm not kidding. And then half way through he started humming Russian folk songs.

I have always thought that if I were ever in a situation like this, that I wouldn't really care about who the doctor was, so long as he was competent and I was drugged. This proves me wrong. There is something so incredibly calming about having the right doctor working on you. I was so nervous about the whole proceedure. As far as I'm concerned, skin isn't supposed to come with pockets that hide ports. This could have been a horrible day, but it wasn't bad. The doctor's said dope her up enough and she won't feel a thing, and then God said, Lets give her a doctor that reminds her of her family and she won't worry about whether she will feel a thing.

So anyway I go in tomorrow morning for my first round of chemo. Mom and Amy Sayegh are both coming with me. Amy is pulling double duty - keeping me entertained, and keeping Mom calm. (I’ll bet that she wishes we knew what that calming stuff that they gave me was) It’s going to be a long day. Somewhere along the lines of 5-6 hours. I hope I’ll be up to blogging tomorrow night. I have a new ramble that I’m planning on posting. But just in case, be sure to check out the latest picture. This is how I expect tomorrow to go.

My sleeping pills are kicking in now, so I’m going to go to bed. I’ll hopefully update tomorrow. -Elizabeth