The Great Unwashed

I wouldn't anticipate things growing in various crevices where I wasn't able to do the kind of due diligence that I normally do, but I don't own a microscope and probably wouldn't look anyway.

I am unwashed because the bandage must stay dry.   I do wonder if a layer of skin will come off with it when I pull it off in another day or so.

I managed to clean myself to some extent, but there are limits when you can't get yourself bodily into the shower.  And don't want to dirty something that will need to be washed later.

Otherwise I've had a bit of a headache for the last couple of days and I took some of the serious pain med last night to deal with the post-surgical pain small though it was.

A little tired today, and joyfully anticipating next Wednesday when I get the full R-CHOP and spinal infusion.  Kill that cancer.

The whole point of the port is to reduce the damage to peripheral veins from the chemotherapy and multiple needle sticks from blood draws; but although I feel grateful that my life has been saved by this anti-cancer medical technology that does not change the fact that I am left with a series of unpleasant and bad choices.

Rather in the way a sadist might ask you: where you would like the pain?  How much pain here vs pain there; and risk here vs risk there?  You can almost see the cold surgical instruments at the ready.

In the ultimate pursuit of the preservation of my life I lay myself open to one thing or another that will cause me fear, trepidation and pain.  Ultimately the cancer would have given me that anyway, so I guess I have been proactive.  It is fear, trepidation and pain that I facilitated.  Whoopee!