Deported

Tomorrow I'm having surgery to remove my portacath, the chemo delivery device that was implanted at my collarbone to spare my poor veins from dissolving. My port (I named her Portia) looks an awful lot like the one in this hot guy's neck:

THIS IS NOT ME. THIS IS A HOT GUY I FOUND ON THE INTERNET.

A portacath has a little round bulb on the chest, and a tube running up to the neck. If my neck looks SUPER RIPPED in some of my wedding photos, my port is to blame.

Getting the port installed was problematic. The conscious sedation failed and I had a paradoxical reaction that rendered me INCREDIBLY AWAKE. This was why I was able to hear the doctor yell at the nurse for flooding my system with an antibiotic I'm allergic to, despite asking me about my allergies mere moments before.

So, I'm a little anxious about this surgery. It will be #5 since I was diagnosed. Luckily, I'm getting it done at my shiny new hospital, so hopefully my transition from bionic human to non-bionic human will be smooth.