Back Under the Knife

So it turns out that after only two sessions of chemo, my veins have quite childishly (and selfishly) decided enough is enough and the one arm that can have drugs pumped into it has now seized into a semi crooked old man arm (maybe a little bit of an exaggeration – it’s not withered – I just look a bit like a retired army major). It’s a bit annoying – that arm is already slightly shorter than the other one (my “Beadle Arm” as my friends “affectionately” call it), so now it looks even shorter. Apparently it’s something that will sort itself out over time but for the time being it’s a bit painful, I can’t hold my arm straight and it feels like my vein has shrunk in length by about an inch.

So, I’ve got to have a portacath fitted – a tube that sits under the skin that they inject straight into to give my vein at the entry point a bit of a breather. I did ask whether I could just have everything injected into my foot (I know for certain that some people have been known to inject things between their toes…), but my nurse looked at me like I was a mental. It’s a pretty simple operation but it does annoyingly put my chemo back by a week. And that, in turn, means that I will no longer have my boob twin in tow. Boooooo. No more kit kats and someone to witter at while you’re sitting there for hours (I’m gutted about the kit kats….). She’s suggested we chain ourselves to the front desk and refuse to be separated, but I think the pair of us might just have to man up and go our separate ways. I'm not a fan of an emoticon, but if I was, there would be a colon and left bracket here.

But, as we all know, every cloud has a silver lining (except when that cloud is Hitler), and there is a massive silver lining! A bit, thick, hallmarked silver lining worthy of Antiques Roadshow. Not only was my original consultant an eminient breast surgeon, he’s also famed for his vascular surgery and will be checking out my vein and fitting my portacath! Mr Wilson is back in the room! (Ma Booth is gutted she won’t be here for my initial consultation with him). So on Wednesday I’ll be popping in to see him in the vain (ha!) hope that he has some magical trick and I’ll be able to straighten my arm again. Maybe he can add a couple of inches at the same time….?

The other silver lining (if you’re allowed two??) is of course, that I’ll be hopping back under the general anaesthetic. Morphine anyone? I’m super keen to know where I’ll wake up this time…