On Monday I had the surgery to have the port put in, which was remarkably awful. It wasn't under a general anesthetic, just local anesthetic and sedation, which meant that I was aware. Especially when they fucked up and didn't give me the sedation before they started cutting (although I did have the anesthetic), which was pretty upsetting. And then they didn't actually give me enough sedative until about halfway through the operation, so I could feel them actually putting the port *under my skin*, which was the grossest thing in the world.
Don't get cancer, you guys, the doctors do horrible things to you.
On Tuesday I went for a consultation with Dad's dentist, in the hope that I could wait another ten months before I got my wisdom teeth out. Being partially erupted, they could be potential points of infection while I'm immunodeficient during chemotherapy. He suggested instead that he take them out right away, which I agreed to in a terrified, mousy kind of way. So with very little preparation, he shot me up and gave me some nitrous oxide, then just yanked the damn things out. (It was more complicated and grosser than that.) Poor Dad stayed in the room and held my hand the whole time. I thought they were going to kick him out after the Novocaine kicked in, but they never did.
The aftermath of the wisdom teeth was miles worse than the aftermath of the port. It really hurts, it hurts all the time. I'm taking oxycodone and Extra-Strength Tylenol (homemade Percocet!), and it still pretty much hurts all the time. I wish I could eat a cheeseburger.
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