Ports but not the fun ones and labs

My cancer is positive for both female hormones. It means that it is feeding on them and using them to grow. 

I have had 3 sites biopsied, multiple mammograms, 2 MRI procedures, a PET scan, port placement, EKG, blood work and loads of appointments to try and learn all that we can about the cancer.

The kids say because the type of cancer I have is called invasive ductal that it means it's like an alien invader and we need to get the aliens out of me.

There have been many visitors, texts and calls from people reaching out to offer help, support, supplies, meals, cookies, plants and love. It has truly helped me to brace for what comes next knowing I have so many at my back cheering and helping to push and keep me going as we head into the next turn of the ride.

I have tried to spend time snuggling the girls and resting the best I can. 

I love ports, but just not ones that they put in my body. I have had two different picc lines in the past, and they were not fun. My surgeon assures me that this port will be much less annoying than the picc lines and neck IVs were to deal with. Actually getting my port placed was not my favorite. I was glad for the medically induced nap while they did the work of placing and testing it. When I woke up and was sent home, I had a lot to say apparently and my family thought it was a lot of fun to try and have a conversation with me. I'm glad that I could make people laugh.

Since getting past the haze of the medicines, I hate the sensation of something sitting there beneath the skin near my collar bone. The feel of something foreign and stiff where the skin was once soft and supple is a sensation I could do without. Turning my head I feel the pull of it beneath my skin and have to remind myself that I didn't kink my neck or sleep funny and that this new sensation will be with me for a while as the swelling goes down and my brain becomes accustomed to the new sensory input.

I have so many bruises. Bruises from biopsies, bruises from blood draws and IVs. Bruises from the port being placed. There are so many bruises and scabs where I have been damaged.

The hardest bruise right now is the one sitting right square on top of my pride. I like to be independent and strong (in every way). I like to take care of what I need to and not have to ask for help. I like to move furniture when I want and not worry about whether it is too heavy for me to lift. I like to move boxes and totes and reorganize whenever the whim strikes me. I like to make meals and be the one helping others. I like to serve not be served. This cancer journey is definitely a fight - right now it feels like the fight with myself is a bigger one. I have often thought that physical things are hard for me, but not as hard as the mental/emotional ones are to deal with.