Yesterday was the first day on my road to getting better. Started off with a blood test which went well enough until the nurse went 'uh-oh' which forced me to take a look to find my blood spurting all over the nurse's hands and the pillow. Think Texas Chainsaw Massacre to get an idea. Then went to have my hair cut: although I was trying to channel Emma Watson, now look more like a butch lesbian - all I need now is a pair of dungarees. The knee-weakening port came next. This took me aback a bit as I was only expecting a small procedure, ie. something similar to a visit to the dentist. But no! Sinister plans were afoot! As it turns out I actually had to go into theatre to have the port installed. In typical fashion, I got quite anxious and had to request heavier sedation. So I had to take two Tamazepam which took effect nearly immediately since I normally avoid medication of any sort. After a few minutes my head started to feel woozy and my reflexes slowed down considerably. I had to hold on to A to stand up - apparently, I was acting like I was drunk. I mean honestly, if this is the effect of alcohol, why do people drink at all? The stuff doesn't even taste nice!
Anyway, I digress. The port is in, but rather than installing it in the chest area, it's been put in the underside of my right upper arm. I specifically requested this because my scar tissue doesn't heal very well - so having it in the upper arm will make it less noticeable and will prove less of a reminder later on of this point in my life.
Funnily enough, I felt pretty chipper after all that. I think it's because I know that I am on the road to recovery and although things will get worse before they get any better, I'm on my way.