Round 3, Cycle 6, Day 2

Back at Georgetown for Day 2. I spent a nice evening last night with Jim, Elena and Tayrn, who fed me hamburgers, corn on the cob, potato salad, and beer. We also had champagne courtesy of Tayrn, celebrating a well-deserved, long-overdue pay raise. we stayed up longer than would should have, swapping stories and providing Tayrn the benefit of our age-derived sagacity. Jim didn't have to leave this morning until 6:30, so we got to sleep in a little. Still got my walk in, though. Got my coffee at Saxby's, but got a croissant rather than my usual muffin. I like to mix it up a little.

I do owe Elena an apology: in an earlier post, I implied that Elena sleeps until 10:30 every morning. Let me set the record straight. Elena assures me that she rarely sleeps past 9:30. I stand corrected.

My Bendamustine came early this morning, so it looks like I could be out of here by 10:30 (a full hour after Elena will have risen and shone) or so, which is nice.

My friend Dolly suggested in a comment after yesterday's post that having a port inserted would address my 'burnt vein' issues. For the uninitiated, a port is a device surgically inserted in the upper torso tied into the subclavian vein (Google it) providing easy access to the blood stream. Skin grows over it; the nurses stick the needle right through it. Of the three patients in this room right now, I'm the only one without a port. I don't have one for two reasons: my medical team has said I don't need one and I'd really like to avoid getting one until I really have to. Somehow--and I know it's just mental--I'm weirded out by the prospect of having the hardware installed inside me. I can just imagine waking up in the middle of the night stressing about it. One of the first things my friend Neal did upon finishing treatment for testicular cancer was to have his port removed--he didn't want it in him. I think I'd feel the same. So, again, it may be silly, but until a doc says I need one, I'll put up with burned veins.

Speaking of which, I think I'm feeling the little tell-tale signs that I'm going to lose this one, too. Just a minor tingling/burning sensation that portends another hard vein and accompanying bruising. Maybe I should have gotten a port.