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Goodbye chemo, hello radiation!

In celebration of the end of chemo, I had my port-a-catheter (not-so-fondly referred to as Igor because he was a pain in my neck who sometimes made me hunch my shoulders) removed from my chest Friday morning. This event was spurred on by the fact that on Wednesday, part of my neck went numb, starting from about where Igor's tube hooked into the vein in my neck up to my chin. Weird. 

I had a hard time believing that removing the likes of Igor is an  in-office procedure. But it is. The doc numbs up the port area on your chest, slices open the spot where she installed it, then yanks out the port along with the catheter tube in your neck and sends you on your way within half an hour with a few stitches in your chest. Seriously. I was in the office at 8 and out by 8:30.  After all the pain and suffering endured from Igor's installation, his removal was a piece of cake, relatively speaking. Good riddance Igor, you did your job and I'm grateful for that, but I'm so glad we've parted ways. So so glad. Even if my neck is still numb.

I met my radiologist on Thursday (another great doc at the Swedish Cancer Institute)  and had my radiation planning session on Friday, after Igor's removal -- Friday was a busy day. After being measured and tattooed at the planning appointment (all I had to do was lie on the table while the techs figured things out -- it was a nice break in the day), I scheduled my 33 radiation appointments and am all set for the next adventure. My dry-run happens on Tuesday when they check to make sure that all will go as planned for the radiation treatments, then Wednesday, the fun begins. Radiation five days a week for the next six and a half weeks. Expected side effects: fatigue and skin burn. I hope that both will be minimal. I'll be wrapping up treatment by the end of June and will be ready for a little fun in the sun. Please please please weather gods, can we have a sunny summer this year!

Happy Day!

Today is the anniversary of my most life-changing event, the birth of my first child. In celebration of May 3 1986, this one’s for you, my girl. You mean the world to me, and these are just a few of the reasons why:

• You made me the one thing I wanted most in life, to be a mom.
• You were the cutest baby in the nursery – I know there is plenty of competition for this title, but you really are the winner.
• You were such a good baby, you made me feel like I had the whole motherhood thing down. Thank you for that! The feeling lasted until your brother was born.
• You loved American Girl dolls, which meant that I got to love them too.
• You coaxed and coached your brother to perform with you an impromptu rendition of Romeo and Juliet for Dad and me on our 13th wedding anniversary.
• You make a mean batch of chocolate chip cookies.
• Though your longshoreman’s vocabulary mortified me, your crew career always made me proud.
• You are always on time.
• You believe in the 7 Ps. 
• You are fiercely independent.
• You can be tender-hearted and tough as nails.
• You have hair that I envy.
• You love to sing – loud and proud.
• You have the Wilson pet thing going on – in spades!
• Your birthday always reminds me of springtime and sunshine and lilacs.
• You love to ski.
• You let me help you move into all of your college apartments.
• You shop with me.
• You love love love college football.
• You are loyal and thoughtful and smart and funny.
• You are the best travel companion – cross-state, cross-country, cross-Europe – I’d go anywhere with you.
• You cry at good-byes.
• When you studied athletic training, you always answered our sports injury and rehab questions.
• Now that you’re a nurse, you always answer our health-related questions.
• You come to chemo sessions and doctor visits and remind me how best to take care of myself.
• You offered to cut off your hair to make a wig for me.

Somewhere along the line, I must have done something right to have been blessed with you as my daughter. Happy Birthday, My Girl! Love you big time!