Jumping in, both feet

I am going to Toronto Western shortly to have my central line (heretofore known as “robovein”) inserted. I’m not allowed to eat, but I’m also a bit nervous and closer to nausea than hunger.

I’m trying not to think about this too much, or about tomorrow’s chemo too much. I know these are hurdles to jump over and once they’re over, the hard part — just starting — is done.

My right shoulder is going to be pretty bum for the next few days, so this is where the short hair becomes a blessing. No need to brush or even wash it.

I have groceries in the fridge and roommates who tidy things up because they know I want the house clean. I am dressed in clothes that theoretically should be easy enough to put on after the surgery (jeans, oxford shirt, no bra) and a friend who will help me put on the clothes that are trickier (socks, shoes). I will be sedated most of the day and will probably just sleep when I get home. Tomorrow will come quickly and I won’t have to think about it too much.

Yesterday at my office, one of my co-workers suffered a major heart attack. I wasn’t there, I have a home office that I work out of pretty exclusively. A heart breaking on Valentine’s Day. How horrifically appropriate. If you are the praying type, or just the good-wishes-sending type, please think of Ted today. He is a dad and he is needed.


About Alicia Louise

I'm a writer, editor, fact checker, storyteller, events organizer, chronically busy yet endlessly lazy, mildly neurotic (though I keep the neuroses well-hidden, one hopes) 32-year-old with recurrent ovarian cancer. I like people and good writing and straight talk. I have a hard time feeling sorry for people, including myself, but the people that I love, I love passionately; one may even say creepily. I try to keep that mostly to myself. I'd like to be charming, but I'm usually just a mess. I'm like a gull slamming into your windshield.
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